The Other Side - J. D. Robb [104]
“Right.” Mark steered Christina to an overstuffed chair and settled himself on the ottoman before lifting her feet to his lap. Without a word he removed her shoes and began massaging her feet.
Setting her cup of tea on a table beside her chair, Chris let her head fall back, forcing herself to relax. With her eyes closed, she said, “It was a beautiful service, wasn’t it? Reverend Henderson gave such a lovely eulogy. Did you know that he presided at my parents’ wedding?”
“He told me.”
“And the articles in the Dispatch, in the Times, and even in our local Gazette. All of them said such kind, loving things about my parents.”
“And why not? They gave generously of their time and money to so many charities.”
Christina made a mental note to send additional checks to the food bank and the women’s shelter that had become her mother’s favorite causes. She would embrace them as hers now.
Mrs. Mellon bustled into the room and set a tray of tea sandwiches on the coffee table. “I noticed that you were too busy with the guests to think about food, Miss Christina, but now that you’re alone, you really should try to eat something.”
Chris caught the older woman’s hand as she straightened. “And who’s going to see that you eat or rest, Mrs. Mellon?”
The housekeeper wiped at a sudden tear. “You’re so like her, you know. Your mother was always looking out for everybody but herself.”
Without warning, this stoic woman, who had directed a staff of servers through the long day of the viewing in the formal parlor and the luncheon that had followed the funeral, now burst into tears. Horrified, she tried to turn away, but Christina was on her feet at once and drawing the older woman into her arms.
“I can’t believe they’re gone.” Mrs. Mellon’s words were muffled against Christina’s shoulder.
“I know.” Chris smoothed the woman’s hair, absorbing a quick shaft of pain. “It doesn’t seem possible.”
“I didn’t want to cry. Especially in front of you. You’ve been so strong.”
“Me? I’ve shed buckets of tears. It’s all right to cry, Mrs. Mellon. You miss them. We all do.”
“How will we go on without them?”
“I don’t know.” Chris reached into her pocket and withdrew a lace-edged handkerchief. “You’ve been such a comfort to me, Mrs. Mellon. And to Tyler. We couldn’t have gotten through this without you.”
“I did what I could.” The woman blew her nose and stepped away. “I need to stay busy.”
“I know. I feel the same way. I don’t want to stop and let myself think about what I’ve lost.” Christina glanced over at her little brother, still standing silently by the window. “What we’ve all lost.”
The housekeeper sniffed, dabbed at her eyes, and turned away. “The catering people have probably finished up in the kitchen by now. They’ll be wanting a check.”
Christina nodded. “I left it on the desk in the library.”
“Don’t bother yourself. I’ll see to it.”
When the older woman was gone, Mark dropped an arm around Christina’s shoulders. “I agree with Mrs. Mellon. The best way to deal with grief is to stay busy. If you don’t mind a suggestion, darling, I think you should get back to your routine as soon as possible.”
“I suppose.” Distracted, Chris picked up her tea. Sipped.
“That’s my girl.” Mark crossed to the fireplace and rested an arm on the mantel. “The sooner you return to your apartment in the city and tend to your father’s business, the better you’ll feel. And when you feel like crying, I’ll be there with a strong shoulder. I promise.”
“Thanks, Mark.” Chris gave a long, deep sigh. “You’re right, of course. Routine would be good for me. For all of us.”
“Good.” He started across the room. “Since you agree, I’ll get the car.”
When he was gone, Christina set aside her tea and studied her little brother. He hadn’t moved from the window. What was he looking at? she wondered.
“What do you see, Tyler?” She crossed to him and dropped to her knees, so that they were eye to eye.
His tutor, Bonnie, stepped into the room and