Edge of the Ravine

46

Chapter Forty-Six

I nodded as Layla explained how we wanted me to walk up the street and exactly how I was to come back towards her. Simple as it was, even a novice would have trouble following her instructions.

We'd done five walks before our shoot was called to a halt. I'd just turned at the spot appointed for me when I saw Vlad tap on Layla's shoulder, a cellphone held against his shoulder. His face was expressionless, but whatever he said caused her to stand up immediately. Both of them looked at me.

The blood drained from my face and I dropped my pose in an instant. Slowly, cautiously, I walked towards them. I felt as if my stomach was dragging my feet. As Vlad came to meet me half way, I could feel my lungs constricting.

All I could do was question. What had happened? Was Rebecca okay? Her son? Husband? What about Tess or Viv or Jace? Who was hurt? How badly? And why was Layla more upset than Vlad? And why was Vlad moving so fast? Even worse: why was he moving so slow?

By the time he reached me, my throat was dry. With sympathy bright in his eyes, he handed me my own cellphone and said, "you've got to take is, Oliver."

With hands trembling in anticipation, I took the phone and brought it slowly to my ear. "Hello?"

"Is this Oliver Hart?" A clinical-sounding voice asked at the other end.

"Speaking."

"Mr. Hart, are you the great nephew of an Amelia Winthrope?"

My eyes flew wide and I spun in place once, taking long quick strikes away from everyone else. "I am. Why? What's happened?"

"I'm sorry to inform you but Mrs. Winthrope passed away three days ago. Her... uh... she was discovered just this morning."

The air whooped out of my lungs as if a battering ram had smashed through my soft flesh and fractured my spine. I couldn't move. I could barely stand.

It was unbelievable. Absolutely impossible. The gnarled, stubborn, gritty old woman couldn't possibly be dead.

"How?" It was the only word I could manage.

"She appears to have died in her sleep. It was peaceful. Painless."

A bury of hysterical laughter flew out from my lips and I raised my eyes to the heavens. My head was shaking so fast in denial. There was no way I could be expected to believe that that irascible old bat up and died peacefully in her sleep. If she had to, Amelia would pick up an ancient battle-ax and fight a duel with the angel of death himself if it meant she would at least have a glorious ending. Amelia would not go out like that. She couldn't. But she did.

"I'm sorry for your loss," said the voice on the other end. Apparently it wasn't even uncommon for him to get this reaction.

When I didn't respond, he continued, "from the information we have here, it seems Mrs. Winthrope had her arrangements made for some time and all seems to be in order. However, we need permission from the next-of-kin in order to release the body to the mortuary."

I had to take a deep breath and released it slowly. "Where are you located?" I asked in a shaky voice. After he'd given me the location, even my next words surprised me. "I'll be there by tomorrow. You have my permission to release the body but I would like to have the information of the funeral home." Even as I spoke, I was striding with purpose towards the dressing area, kicking off the shoes as I went.

As I tore off the coat, I hung up the phone and threw it on the table. Then I stopped. Bracing my hands on the table, it felt as if my entire body was supported by my forearms. My eyes resolutely found their reflection in the mirror and I could see my own thoughts whirling away unhappily in their depths.

"I'm going home," I whispered to the glass.

Somehow it felt like a death sentence.

"Oliver?" Vlad called to me gently.

Swallowing, I pushed myself off the table and turned to face him, my hands shooting to the upper buttons of my buttoned up shirt. "I've got to get on a plane. Amelia passed away three days ago. There are arrangements to be made. Plans to oversee. I'll be gone for at least a week. Hopefully not any longer." Every word spoken was done in a very calm, eerily-empty tone. Which made Vlad's responding expression unsurprising.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

A small, grateful smile pulled at my lips. At the same time, I shook my head. "No, love. Stay. Work. Even go to one of your sister's parties. I'll be back again before you know it."

"Are you sure, Oliver? The woman who raised you just died. Are you sure you won't need just a bit of support?"

Crossing the space between us, I hugged him gently. "Honey, I know you'll support me in absolutely everything I could wish or need. But the relationship between Amelia and myself was not exactly the type to occasion nostalgia. And what little gratitude I have for her doesn't mean I'm overcome with emotion at her loss. Shocked: yes. Grief-stricken: hardly."

"You sure?" He demanded, pulling back to search my eyes.

Smiling, I nodded. "Only a week. Then we'll be back to watching movies we've seen a dozen times and arguing over whose turn it is to do the dishes and stuff."

Vlad was not impressed with my bravado. "Oliver, stop it. This isn't like me being lovesick every time one of us has to travel for work. Something serious just happened and I want to make sure you are okay."

"And I love you for that," I assured him quickly. "But you have to remember, Vlad, that I have neither seen nor spoken to Amelia in nine years. I never even said goodbye. It was a very, very clean break. And right up until this moment, I've only thought about her maybe twice in a year. Her death surprises me, I admit. But it doesn't hurt me. Not like it would if it was Jace, Viv or Tess, or Rebecca and little Max. Those are the people I feared for when I got the call. Now, I promise you, I am fine. And I will be back in a week. But I've got to leave now."

After kissing him quickly on the lips, I went back into changing into my regular clothes. Vlad leaned against the table, his arms folded across his chest. Though I knew he was studying me intently, I didn't pause in my preparations to ask what his latest judgement was. Of course, knowing him as I did, I also knew that to question would be unnecessary.

"I wish I had some of your fortitude."

There existed no smile on my face when I looked up from my combat boots. "Make no mistake, Vlad: I did love Amelia. About as much as she loved me. What we had was a form of respect for one another I'm not sure anyone else is capable of. But I've also learned that not all emotions outlast time. But I have enough regard for her still to be stunned by her death. Yet, I also have enough sense to know that grief will get me nowhere. It's never helped before. And now is certainly not the time for it."

Vlad's eyes dropped to the floor, his head hanging a bit. After a minute, I went back to tying my boots. It was in that attitude that he muttered, "I said 'fortitude' not 'callousness'."

It was the closest thing to an apology as I was likely to get.

With a sigh, I got to my feet and stood before him. Resting my hands on his waist, I waited until he looked up at me before leaning my forehead against his own. A defeated sigh of his own whooshed out of his mouth before he brought his arms up around my shoulders.

"I love you, Vlad."

"I know. I love you more."

"Not possible," I answered with my usual grin.

"And you have to go. But you'll only be gone a week. Before I'll even have time to miss you—or so you think," he continued in a slow mocking tone, ignoring my own reply.

"Yes. I have to go. And I will miss you every second that I'm gone. Because you are, without a doubt, the best thing that ever happened to me," I whispered in his ear.

My lips found his on instinct. They knew where home truly was. Just as I was sure that I wouldn't know the feeling of it again until I was back in Vlad's arms.