Chapter One
Nickerson, Vermont
This is not where Lorna Addams wanted to be. Tears filled her eyes and she was afraid to look down, so instead she stared at a flower arrangement. Her hand rested on top of satin and the smooth texture slid against the wood underneath.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Lorna nodded, not seeing who spoke. She wished people would stop saying that. They meant well, but she didn’t want to hear it.
At the sound of murmuring voices, she turned toward the gathering crowd. The funeral home continued to fill as people came to pay their respects to her dead husband. She only recognized about half of them but assumed the expensively dressed men and women knew Glenn from work. Her husband had a few nice suits but he wasn’t—hadn’t been—pretentious. Not like this crowd. He had liked to keep his home life away from his job. He called his family his oasis.
Why were these people even invited? If Lorna had been in charge of the arrangements and not a trustee, she would have kept the event for family and close friends only.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Jackie, her cousin, forced a hug on her. Lorna stood still, letting it happen as she counted the seconds until she was released.
Over Jackie’s shoulder, Lorna glanced toward the front row of seats where Nicholas, Jacob, and Jennifer huddled together. Though they were all technically adults, they’d always be her babies. Jennifer’s dark head rested against her twin’s shoulder, trembling as Jacob tried to comfort her. It broke Lorna’s heart to see her strong daughter brought to such sorrow. Jacob’s lips were pressed tight and he had been staring at the same spot on the floor for nearly an hour. The two had always been close. They even planned on starting at the same college in the fall.
Nicholas, the oldest, looked the most like his father, reminding Lorna of when she’d first met Glenn. He was almost finished with his undergraduate degree in accounting. He should have been at his summer internship, not here. None of them should have been here.
Jackie finally let go as she made a bit of a scene, gasping and sobbing. Lorna wanted to remind her cousin that they weren’t close. Jackie barely knew Glenn. The last time they’d seen each other had been nearly five years ago at a family reunion.
Some people appeared to glide through life—an average family, quiet dramas, envious paths. Their struggles, though real to them, seemed small compared to those of the rest of the world. Their bads were never as bad, their goods consistent. They looked to have all the answers to happiness. That was Lorna’s life before this day—perfectly uneventful, no made-for-TV-drama. In fact, for long stretches, she would have admitted her life was even dull.
She’d give anything for boring right now.
Lorna finally forced her gaze to the casket. The funeral director had tried to tell her it would look like Glenn was sleeping. It didn’t.
Lorna frowned. Glenn’s hair had been combed all wrong. He hated when his bangs were pulled forward. It matched a large portrait of her husband displayed near Glenn’s head. Lorna had never seen the picture before. In fact, she’d never seen the suit they’d put on him. It wasn’t the clothes she’d dropped off for him.
Glenn had appointed a trustee he’d met through work to take care of all his funeral arrangements. Honestly, Lorna had been grateful not to have to make any of the decisions. But then, she’d assumed the trustee would make sure everything was perfect.
She leaned forward to fix Glenn’s hair, brushing it back. There was nothing she could do about the portrait. It looked like it belonged on an ID badge from the consulting firm Glenn worked at.
“How did you know my husband?”
Lorna turned at the strange question. Her mind was in a fog and it was possible she’d misheard. The woman who spoke looked like she’d stepped off a movie set in her tight black dress and large-brim black hat. A veil covered her face, making it hard to see all of the details.
Lorna glanced behind her to the chairs. She now recognized less than half the crowd. This lady clearly belonged with them. Who were these people? Lorna’s dress was shabbier by comparison and had come off a department store sales rack years ago. She didn’t have many reasons to wear black.
Lorna stared numbly as the woman leaned over to smooth Glenn’s bangs down to match the photo. The large diamond of the lady’s ring begged people to look at her hand like a shiny distraction. Lorna glanced at the plain band on her finger.
“Please, stop,” Lorna tried to lift her hand, but it didn’t feel as if it belonged to her body. Nothing felt real. “He hates his hair like that.”
The woman pulled the veil over her head, away from her face. Her makeup was perfect, including the thick black lines around her eyes. If Lorna had put on makeup, she would have cried it off long before now.
“How exactly did you know my husband?” the woman repeated, her tone annoyed as she directed a withering glare in Lorna’s direction.
What was going on here? Was this a sick joke?
Glenn had been her husband for twenty years. These were their children sitting in the front row. This tightness in her chest was a wife’s grief. This day was stressful enough and it was all she could do to stay upright. Who said such a thing to a grieving widow? Now? In front of the deceased’s three children?
“That’s not funny,” Lorna whispered, not wanting to create a scene to upset her kids.
“Omigod, you’re her, aren’t you? That’s why his funeral is in this dump of a town, and why the man handling the estate couldn’t look me in the eye? Glenn just had to get one last dig at me. You have some nerve showing up here.” This time the woman’s voice was louder. “Leave now or I will have you thrown out.”
“I don’t know what your deal is, but—” Lorna instantly stopped talking when Jacob appeared next to her.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” Jacob took a protective stance in front of her. Lorna wasn’t sure how to answer. To the other woman, he said, “I think you need to leave.”
“What’s going on here? Cheryl, are you all right?” One of the tailored gentlemen appeared next to the lady.
“No, Frank,” Cheryl hissed. “I need you to get Glenn’s mistress out of here before I scream. I can’t take much more. I swear to God I can’t.”
Mistress? Lorna gasped at the insult. Jacob looked at her in confusion. Lorna wasn’t sure what to say to her son. How could she explain whatever this was? She didn’t understand it herself.
Cheryl reached into her small clutch and pulled out a cigarette from a metal case. Frank automatically retrieved a lighter from his suit jacket and lit it for her.
“Ma’am, you can’t smoke in here.” Mr. Wilkens, the owner of the funeral home, stepped forward to stop her.
Cheryl blew smoke in his direction. “Shut up or I’ll have you fired. Can’t you see I’m grieving?”
Mr. Wilkens glanced at Lorna in question but backed away from the hostile woman.
“This is my mom, and that is her husband and my father,” Jacob stated, his tone condescending enough to match the woman’s. “I don’t know what kind of scam you’re trying to pull, lady, but it’s you who needs to leave. I won’t have you disrespecting my father’s memory, and I sure as hell will not stand for you upsetting my mother.”