Sam’s wife was doing chemotherapy.
“The party will be different this year,” Rowan said softly, thinking of Ken. Both he and Sam had always attended Malcolm’s birthday parties.
“I’m so sorry about Ken,” said Sam. “He was one of the good ones.”
“He was. Just like you are.”
She ended the call a few moments later, her mind full of past parties to which Ken and Sam had brought their wives. The parties were always upbeat and social. Music. Laughter. Food. Everyone would have a good time.
It was always the day after the party that Rowan would be hit with heaviness and a deep sorrow about what could have been.
She parked at the curb in front of her parents’ home.
Don’t mention the bones.
Rowan had argued with herself for the entire drive about whether to mention the bones discovered near the river. The family’s hopes had been dashed too many times over the years. Chances were that this report would do the same.
But it’d been so long since there had been any news or hope of any kind. The discovery today was the first in many years.
If I say nothing, then tonight will be as wonderful as always.
Say nothing.
It was doubtful there would be questions about the body she had found. She hadn’t told anyone besides Sam Durette.
Rowan grabbed the gift and bottle of prosecco from the passenger seat and headed toward the front door. Prosecco had been added to the celebration when the twins turned twenty-one. It worked quite well with Malcolm’s favorite orange soda, creating a twisted version of a mimosa that was extra fizzy.
She was late. Rowan walked right in the front door, and her stress from the day melted away. She loved her parents’ home. Giggling came from the kitchen, and music sounded from multiple speakers. She heard her father’s deep laugh, and it warmed her heart. He was the type who always had a smile and a word of encouragement for everyone.
Would Malcolm have been the same way?
In her heart she knew he would. He’d always cheered her on and had been infatuated with the twins, delighted by their pudgy cuteness.
Some acquaintances judged the family for celebrating Malcolm’s birthday, claiming it was unhealthy to hold on to the past. That was why they were acquaintances, not friends. Her parents had stopped defending the gathering years ago, letting the busybodies wallow in their own nosy concern.
Fuck them all.
“Aunt Rowan!” West charged her from the family room and wrapped his arms around her waist. “What’s in the present?” He lowered his voice. “I won’t tell anyone,” he said in a conspiratorial tone.
She laughed. “Nice try.” The white elephant gift swap was always a highlight of the evening. “Where’s your mom?”
West led her around the corner to the kitchen, which was part of a huge great room with high ceilings and an eye-catching fireplace. The other four adults were at the island, champagne glasses of fizzy bright-orange mimosas already in their hands. Two empty prosecco bottles stood in the sink.
“Good thing I brought another bottle,” said Rowan as she hugged her father. “I’m glad you made it, Dad.”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” He took a step back and studied her. “Girls, her hair looks amazing,” he said to the twins.
“Told you so, Dad,” said Iris as she finished her drink. “I’ve already put the before and after photos up on Instagram.”
“Do they show my face?” asked Rowan. The twins had once featured her as one of their amazing hair makeovers, and Rowan’s friends had teased her unmercifully.
“No. Just the back of your head,” said Iris, rolling her eyes. “You made it clear last time not to do that again.”
“Good.” Rowan set down the present and took the drink her mother offered. “Let’s do this.”
Two hours later Rowan was exhausted.
But in a good way. She’d kept the news of the bones and murdered woman to herself. It’d been the right decision. Wearing the sparkly pink cowboy hat she’d stolen from her father in the gift exchange, she kissed her parents goodbye and hugged her sisters. West was sound asleep on the sofa, his stomach full of an impressive number of Tater Tots.
Outside she headed to her SUV, her step light and her heart content. It’d been a perfect evening even though their number was smaller than usual. She opened the passenger door and set the hat carefully on the seat, grinning as she recalled her father’s glee when he opened the white elephant gift from Ivy. He’d immediately put it on his head, and it had rocked, too small to sit correctly.