The Player's Best Friend (Completed!)

Chapter 30

They both worried for me, and waited on me hand and foot. Anything I need, they made it happen. All the nights this week I would cry myself to sleep, but I made sure to be quiet about it. From the bags under their eyes, they were tired and they had lives too. It was bad enough I'd have a follow up appointment next week. I didn't really want to face the facts just yet. Steven and Rich knew that I was mentally suffering from how angry I got and how upset I'd get. It's like everything just set off the water works.

Steven sat at the table going through several reports and organizing contacts. He worked under his uncle at NASCAR at such a vague task that I think he's finally found what he's wanted to do. 

He went to school under business administration so he had a lot of choices, but in the end he chose to work for his uncle as his finance manager. I learned to not bug him when he's "in the zone." He was very passive and didn't pay much attention to his surroundings, which resulted in his hand being burned by the hot tea. 

I grabbed a fluffy pillow from the couch and went over to the seat beside him. I placed my rump in the seat and hugged the pillow to my chest. He was very tense as he was on some program typing in numbers ever second. I was never really good at math so even if I tried I couldn't explain what was going on. 

He noticed I had taken a seat a few minutes after he had been typing. Steven's smile was weak and exhausting. I know he works through all the hours of the night, possibly as a distraction. He held my hand that was clutched to the pillow. And we kind of just sat there in silence. Words weren't needed to describe the feeling of dread that coursed through us.

Ian was now a little angel above, and I can't say I was over it. I mean, how can someone just pick up and move on so quickly? Maybe a year, or even ten years, from now the pain will lessen but it was just too soon. There was one more hurdle we had to get through.

The funeral.

The worst part of a funeral isn't the wake or even when the body is placed into the ground. It's the part before all that. It's actually acknowledging that it happened and telling other people about it. The hardest thing Steven and I ever had to do in these past couple of months is call our close ones and tell them the truth. The truth that took place only one week prior.

My mom took it the hardest. I had told her about it right after the surgery, but calling her up to inform her of the funeral really dampened my day. She helped me plan the wake and a good burial site, probably because she knew I couldn't do it alone. The next step was telling my dad. My parents had a happy marriage at one point but now they had their own spouses and are as courteous to each other as friends can be. But I can't say I was as close to my dad as I was to mom. He knew of the pregnancy but I hadn't said anything about the loss. Telling him the truth out loud really made things seem more real. I had never heard nor seen him cry. Not even at my grandpa's funeral, but here he was on the phone in tears. I couldn't  do it. His wife, Irene, could be heard in the background trying to console him. As I covered my tear streaked face with my hands, Steven stepped in and gently took the phone, explaining the things I couldn't. These were the moments when I knew I needed him.

Steven had called his uncle and even told his parents, although it came to a shock to them because they weren't aware of me in the first place. I'd be lying if my feelings weren't hurt. You'd think the father of my child would have mentioned me to his parents. I looked past it as he was talking to his mother over the phone. I'm sure he already knew that I was upset though. But we didn't need any more sadness or distress. The struggle of emotions was apparent in his features. He was tense as he spoke to his mom, and his hands were clenched tightly on his lap. I didn't have that strength he did. If Steven ever did cry or have an emotional break down, he made sure I never witnessed it.

Maybe that's what's making me appreciate him more. 

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Ultimately, we decided not to have a tribute. We didn't want to say anything or give speeches. We just didn't really know what to say so here we were at the wake. We had our heads down as the pastor said his kind words of blessing.

After the wake, we all headed to the site at which our angel will be buried. I made sure my son was wrapped in the softest of wool blankets, and his little head had a mint green hat placed. He really was mommy's little angel. 

I met Steven's parents, George and Diane. I didn't have the first meeting jitters for obvious reasons. They both expressed their condolences and wished that they could've met me sooner. There was no bitterness of any kind. But there was pity. Lots and lots of pity. 

During the procession, my parents had arrived. They were late due to traffic but they made it the most important part. Our group was relatively small, just as Steven and I wanted. It was on a need-to-know basis. Of course, there were our parents, Isis, and even Mrs. Halbot. Isis had taken the day off to be my support and she stood by my side the entire time, for which I was thankful. 

I can't quite be sure how Mrs. Halbot found out. But I had a feeling when I saw the sporty black car that only Rich could pull off, I had a good idea. What was really shocking was when the passenger door opened, and out came some killer red stilettos.

You've got to be shitting me.

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"Don't fear death. Fear a life unlived. You don't have to live forever, you just have to live."

"Life asked Death, 'Why do people love me, but hate you?' Death responded, 'Because you are a beautiful lie and I am a painful truth.'"

Have a fantabulous day, you sexy beast!