Eva's Deadline

Eileen answered the door. “Come in, Mark.”

He stepped inside and paused to sniff the air. “Ah, chicken and dumplings for dinner.”

Eileen chuckled and smoothed a lock of red hair from her forehead. “Your nose is right on, as usual. There’s plenty left over, if you’re hungry.”

“Thanks, but I’ve already eaten. Eva Sinclair and I had a bite at Charlie’s.”

Eileen pursed her lips. “So she’s back, is she? Couldn’t be bothered to come while her father was alive.”

“Yep, she’s back. But not for long.”

Eileen harrumphed. “I don’t know all that went on between those two, but it seemed to me she could’ve been more of a daughter to him. Janice passing quick like she did, and then Brett’s terrible accident. Only the two of them left. And what’s wrong with working at a fine newspaper like the Herald? You work there. You like it.”

“I do, very much. And, no, I don’t know what went on between them, but at least she’s here now.”

Sasha appeared in the hallway, arms outstretched. “Daddy, Daddy!”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He leaned down and swept her into his arms. Smoothing back Sasha’s fine blond hair, he planted a kiss on her soft cheek, inhaling her sweet, little-girl scent. “Were you a good girl today?”

“I’m always good. Aren’t I, Grammy Eileen?” Keeping one arm hooked around Mark’s neck, Sasha looked to her caretaker for confirmation.

Eileen patted Sasha’s shoulder. “That you are, my dear.” She turned to Mark. Behind her rimless glasses, her brown eyes shimmered with tears. “I still can’t believe Seb’s gone.”

Mark nodded and shifted Sasha in his arms. “Shocking, all right.”

Sasha’s brow wrinkled. “What happened to Mr. Seb?”

“I’ll tell you on the way home, honey.”

While Sasha collected her backpack, Eileen bustled into the kitchen. She returned with a plastic container, which she handed to Mark. “We made chocolate-chip cookies today.”

“I put in the chips,” Sasha said, “and stirred, too.”

Mark exchanged a grin with Eileen. “Good for you, Sasha. These will hit the spot with a glass of milk when we get home. By the way, any news from Dan and Rilla and the kids?”

Dan and Rilla were Eileen’s son and daughter-in-law. They were on a road trip to visit Rilla’s parents in Montana.

Eileen grinned. “They’re having a great time. I sure miss my three grandkids, though. Good thing I have Sasha.” She gave Sasha a hug. “Bye now, darlin’. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Grammy Eileen.” Sasha planted a smooch on the woman’s cheek.

Eileen walked out with them onto the porch. Then Mark tucked Sasha into her booster seat and they were on their way. The clouds parted to reveal a half-moon on the rise. Tall evergreens were silhouetted against the silvery sky. The salty smell of the ocean drifted in through his open window.

“What about Mr. Seb?” Sasha asked from her seat behind him.

“He died this morning.”

“Why?”

“Well, because his body stopped working and the doctors couldn’t fix him.”

“Like Mommy?”

Her forlorn voice tugged at Mark’s heart. “Yes, like Mommy.”

Sasha had been only three years old when Diane had died. He’d explained death as best he could, but doubted his daughter really understood. Then last year she began asking why she didn’t have a mommy like her friends. He’d given her a simplified version of the truth. The bus Mommy was riding in had an accident. Mommy was hurt so bad her body wouldn’t work anymore.

“I miss Mommy,” Sasha said now.

“I know, honey. I do, too.”

And he did. Even though she had betrayed him, he missed her presence, missed being part of a complete family. Since Diane’s death, he’d more or less stayed away from women. He had a date now and then, mostly when someone set him up and when accepting was easier than refusing, but nothing came of these encounters. He didn’t want to risk being hurt again. Or having Sasha hurt.

He’d never told their daughter why her mommy was on the bus or where she was going. No need to burden the child with the awful truth. Maybe when she was older.

Then again, maybe never.

Later, after they had their cookies and milk, Mark tucked Sasha into bed. He kissed her forehead and pulled the covers up around her chin.

She smiled at him. “’Night, Daddy.”

“’Night, honey.” He gazed at his precious child, his heart full of love.

In the living room, he settled into his recliner, the one Diane had insisted on buying because the blue upholstery matched the sofa she’d picked out. He’d rather have had a leather chair, but, no, blue cloth it had to be. After she died, he’d kept it, as he’d kept nearly everything else in the house that she’d had a hand in. For Sasha’s sake. He didn’t want her to forget her mommy, and having things around that reminded her of Diane would help to keep her memory alive.

Switching on the TV, he tuned in the local news to see what they said about Seb. The TV crew had been at the newspaper office that afternoon, interviewing him and the other staff. Sure enough, there he was, being quoted about what a shock Seb’s death was, and what a great newspaperman he’d been, and how much he’d be missed. Mark slowly shook his head. He still had trouble believing the man was gone.

He knew that despite their estrangement, Seb had loved Eva. He always spoke of her with pride and said what a good writer she was. But, as far as Mark could tell after meeting Eva this evening, she still seemed to harbor resentment toward her father. Indignation tightened Mark’s chest. Seb deserved better.

Yet, what right did he have to judge Eva? Wasn’t he still angry with Diane for what she’d done to him and Sasha?

He turned off the TV and headed for the bedroom. As he lay in bed, the thought of dealing with Eva, even for the brief time she’d be in Willow Beach, kept him tossing and turning.

* * *

EVA’S CHEST TIGHTENED as she watched the pallbearers lower her father’s casket into the ground at Forest Lawn Cemetery. Up until today, his death didn’t seem real, not even when she was making plans for this very event. It was as though she were talking about someone else, not her father, who had always been so energetic and full of life. That the life had gone out of him didn’t seem possible. Yet, this last goodbye was about to happen.

She let her attention stray to the nearby markers for her mother, Janice, and her brother, Brett. Her whole family gone now. Tears burned her eyes. She blinked them back. Now was not the time. Save that for when she was alone.

The pallbearers, including Mark, moved back from the edge of the grave. He walked over to join the rest of the Herald staff standing nearby. Eva surveyed the crowd gathered to pay Seb their last respects. At least four hundred people had been packed into the hall for the service preceding the burial, and more were expected to attend the reception following. Mark had been right: Seb had a lot of friends in Willow Beach. Eva recognized many of the crowd, including some of her old classmates at Willow Beach High, but there were a lot of mourners she didn’t know, newcomers to the town.

Pastor Jordan stepped forward. “Let us pray,” he began, and along with the others, Eva bowed her head.

Half an hour later, she stood in the middle of Forest Lawn’s reception room, holding a plate with an egg-salad sandwich and a scoop of pasta salad, refreshments provided by the funeral home’s catering service. Now that the burial was over, her tension had eased, but only a little. She still had to greet the guests and talk about her father and receive their condolences. They meant well, of course, but her alienation from Seb made talking about him difficult—and painful.

She looked over at the picture of him on an easel near the door. The Herald’s photographer, Cody Jarvis, had made the enlargement. The photo must have been taken recently because Seb’s hair had more gray than she remembered, and new lines bracketed his mouth and his eyes.

“He looks so lifelike,” said a voice behind her.