I shrug as I blow out a breath. "No matter what we do, whether it's Barrett wrecking Dad's car or Lincoln getting written up in the tabloids or Sienna moving to Los Angeles-you always have our backs. I haven't always appreciated that about you."
She grins softly. "It's not always easy raising this brood. You're a bunch of headstrong, opinionated, capable people, and that sometimes gives me heart failure. But I have to sit back and remember a couple of things." She folds her hands on her lap, a gold bracelet twinkling in the light. "For one, that means we've raised healthy, intelligent children that aren't afraid to be themselves. And two, your father and I-more your father-aren't perfect either."
Chuckling, I nod. "None of us is perfect."
"No, we aren't. But a hallmark of a strong family, Ford, is one that allows its members to grow and learn. And not just when they're babies. Sometimes the hardest life lessons are learned when we're adults."
"I'll try to remember that."
"Yes, you should. Especially now that you're going to be a daddy," she smiles. "I can't believe it. I want to go buy all the babies things."
"Easy there," I laugh. "You know, I was afraid you were going to think it was some kind of setup or something. I haven't brought her around and after some of my brothers' shenanigans . . ."
"You are different from your brothers," she says. "You're level-headed. If you tell me this is what you want and what is right, I'm behind you one hundred percent. Besides," she laughs, "I'm going to be a grandma again!"
I watch her face light up, her cheeks matching the color of her dress.
"I have something else to tell you," I sigh. "Ellie's father died last night."
"What?" For the second time in as many minutes, she looks shocked. "How? That poor girl. Where is she?"
"It's a long story, but he had cancer. Had an accident last night and didn't make it. She's at his house now with a couple of her friends."
"I need to make a casserole." She gets to her feet and is at the freezer before I can say anything. "What does she like to eat?"
"Mom," I chuckle, "give me a second."
One hand holding open the door, she looks at me.
"She doesn't need a casserole, although that's very nice of you. It's just her. He didn't really have any friends and she doesn't have siblings or family. I can handle feeding her."
The door closes with a thump. "I have to do something," she insists. "What does she need?"
I stand and look at her, my phone in my hand poised over Graham's name. "There is one thing . . ."
Ellie
The sky is three shades of grey. Not a ray of sunshine to be found. Even the breeze has a chill to it that seems fitting for the day.
Sitting in a chair draped with black fabric, I watch as the hearse pulls slowly into the cemetery. I thought this was a compromise between me wanting to honor his life and Dad not wanting anything-a graveside service.
Sitting under the awning are Violet and Heath and a few of my father's friends. They give me tight, sad smiles, their faces showing the fondness they had for Dad. It eases the slightest bit of my pain knowing I'm not the only one that will miss him.
The entire Landry clan surrounds me. They're an overwhelming bunch in the best possible way. Ford mentioned a couple of days ago he told his mother, and ever since, they've all shown up at my house with food, drinks, and chitchat. I couldn't fit another slice of cheese in my refrigerator at this point. Even the Governor is here, sitting in the back with his girlfriend, Alison, and her son, Huxley. Dad would be amused.
The hearse crawls to a stop. As if on cue, the Landry men stand, each looking regal in their suits, and file to the long, black car. I watch in amazement that they took this time out of their day to help me pay tribute to a man they'll never know.
One by one, they form two lines. Ford, Graham, and Barrett on one side and Mr. Landry, Huxley, and Lincoln on the other. Faces somber, heads slightly bowed, they accept the duty they've been tasked with such grace it slays me.
I forgo the tissue and just let the tears roll down my face. There's no sense in trying to keep up with them. It's impossible.
I watch these people give me one of the greatest gifts they could ever give. None of them had to be here today. They all have lives running businesses and states and charities. Yet they're here because Ford asked them to be. They're here . . . for me.
The casket is brought to the tent and placed on the platform in front of me. Each of them stops and gives me a hug before taking their seats. By the time little Huxley comes through the line, I can't see for the tears.