A Woman Scorned

Part 13

It was 8 in the evening and you were still in the office. You hadn't accomplished much work today, your mind mostly focused on Billy. You were surprised by how quickly he'd been able to make the funeral arrangements for his mother. Yesterday you had driven over to the nursing home and by the time you reached there, Carla Russo's body had already been picked up. You'd signed a few papers for Billy and picked up the remainder of Carla's things before you returned home. Everything of hers was packed into a small suitcase and sitting in your living room. You wanted to call him, ask him how he was and offer your support, but he seemed determined to do everything on his own when you'd talked to him last and you didn't want to intrude.

You gave yourself a mental shake, reminding yourself to concentrate. This workday had been a wash. When you weren't distracted by thoughts of Billy, you were putting out fires in your team. At least the personnel conflicts have been temporarily resolved, but now you needed to work on a slide deck that you'd been tasked with presenting to the executive leadership committee later in the week.

An hour later you were halfway done with your presentation when your phone rang. You glanced down at your screen to find Billy's name on the screen. "Hi."

"Hey." He sounded exhausted. "You still at work?"

"Yeah. How did you know?"

There was a pause. "You give off the workaholic vibe."

You smiled to yourself; at least he was okay enough to crack jokes. "How are you?"

"You mean am I grieving over a goddamn dead woman who preferred meth to her own fucking son?" He sighed. "No big loss. I'm fine."

Anger and hurt saturated his voice despite his attempts to sound unaffected. Your heart hurt for him, you wished there was something you could do. "Do you need anything?"

"The funeral service is tomorrow." A beat of silence followed. "Do you want to come?"

"Sure. What time?"

"2pm."

"I'll take the day off. Do you need my help with anything? Maybe I can call some of her friends?"

"When I found her she was living on the streets, barely alive but still hooked on meth. I doubt she's got any friends."

"What about the people in the nursing home? Maybe they want to come?"

"No, I don't want anyone else there. Just you."

Not liking the warmth that spread through you upon hearing his words, you reminded yourself he was probably feeling unusually vulnerable. This wasn't typical of him.

"Do you want to come over?" he asked.

You exhaled a heavy sigh. "I would but I have so much work to do. I'll be here for another hour at least."

"Come over after you're done."

"It'll be really late."

"That's fine. I can wait."

"I can stop by my place to pick up your mom's-."

"No, it's okay."

You realized he wasn't quite ready to go through Carla's belongings yet.

"Bring your stuff with you."

"Stuff?"

"Overnight bag, clothes for tomorrow, whatever."

"Oh. You want me to stay over?"

"Yeah, might as well. We can drive over together for the service tomorrow."