Sisters In Love (Snow Sisters, Book One: Love in Bloom Series)

Chapter Seventeen, Sisters in Love

Chapter Seventeen

Blake sat in his car in front of the funeral home, watching a drizzle of freezing rain cut through the dense fog. People filed into the low, brick building, heads down, umbrellas perched like shields. Nothing could shield Blake from the sting of the hours to come. Loneliness settled in around him. He’d be the only person walking in alone, which up until that very moment had never bothered him. He took pride in the way he could own an entrance. His looks and his confidence had served him well, but now there was nothing he’d like more than to be invisible.

When his cell phone rang, he stared at the number. Danica Snow. He picked it up, his voice tethered by sadness. “Hello?”

“Blake?”

“Yes, hi, Danica…um…Dr. Snow?” What an idiot. What was the protocol?

“Danica is fine. I’m looking over my schedule for next week and realized that you hadn’t confirmed our Monday appointment. Rather than fill that slot, I thought I’d see if you were planning on coming in.” The professionalism in her voice left no room for assumptions about her phone call.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay. Would you like me to hold every Monday? Same time?”

Blake realized his disregard for her schedule and pulled himself out of his discomfort enough to apologize.

“It’s not a problem this time, but if you could either set a day and time or let me know by Wednesday each week for the following week, that would be helpful.”

Blake sighed. He’d fucked up again. When was he going to get his act together? “I’m sorry, Danica. Yes, please, every Monday would be great. Do you have time now, to talk, I mean?”

An uncomfortable silence passed between them, and Blake took the hint. “I don’t mean personally. I’m outside of Dave’s funeral. It’s starting in ten minutes, and I’m not sure how…what to do. I’m uncomfortable.”

“I can spare ten minutes. I’ll just add the time to your next bill.”

There it was. All business. “Thank you.” Suddenly, Blake didn’t feel so alone.

“Do you have a friend with you?” Danica asked. “Someone to walk in with?”

“Nope. Just me.”

“Okay, well, remember, you are doing this because Dave was a friend, so this is not really about you. You are doing this for closure, but really, funerals are for showing support to the family.”

“I never thought of it like that.”

“I know. Most people are too absorbed with their own feelings or discomfort to look beyond, to the loved ones who were left behind.”

Blake pictured Danica sitting behind her desk, pen in hand, her eyes full of compassion.

“Sally and Rusty will be happy you are there. You were his business partner, his friend. Even if you are grappling with that friendship, they need you there. You should be there, to honor and remember Dave.”

Blake looked out the window at a young couple walking in. The man had his arm around the woman’s shoulders, pressing her tight against him underneath the umbrella. He wondered if they felt as uncomfortable as he did. “Right. What does that mean exactly? What do I do? I’m not good at these things. I’m better in a bar.” He mustered a little laugh.

Danica remained professional and direct. “Blake, you can do this. You are more than just a bar guy. Look in the mirror and tell me what you see. Right now. Go ahead.”