Four Weekends & a Photograph (WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 22

The day of the funeral started pretty much as I expected. Everyone was in a somber mood as we gathered in the kitchen, Mops doing her best to cater for everyone, I lending a hand. Nicole remained in our bedroom, my heart remaining with her as I helped feed those who had gathered at Wallop that morning.

A text from Chrissy, asking how I was, found me standing outside in the chill of a winter's morning, texting back to say things were not good. Like a true friend she called, listening to me ramble on about how terrible my life was because my sister decided to make it all about her. I knew Chrissy would understand, given she had three older sisters who liked to use her as target practise for their own bitchy comments. "Probably jealous," she offered.

"Nicole's not going to the church."

"Because of your sister?"

"Because she ended up crying in my bathroom."

"Nicole?"

"I think it's to do with her mum. It has to be that."

"Have you asked your sister?"

"Hello. She's currently in my bad books."

"It's not everyone's cup of tea. You know, all the pomp and circumstance around these things. Give Nicole a hug from me."

"I will. What do I do about Wynonna?"

"If it was me, I'd accidentally push her in the grave. Oops."

Chrissy heard me laughing. "I couldn't. But, thanks for the image. God, she's a bitch sometimes."

"Sisters for you. Can't live with them, won't let you live without them."

Wynonna had made an appearance by the time I returned to the kitchen. She looked hungover, and sad. "Where's Nicole?"

I simply glared at her, ignoring her question, grabbing a few pieces of toast and a mug of coffee to take upstairs. Nicole was still in bed, awake, smiling as I entered. The sound of Wynonna behind me had me turn to face her, still glaring, still annoyed. My expression made it perfectly clear she wasn't welcome, her own now a mix of pain and guilt. "Can I speak with Nicole?"

"What's the point? You'll only upset her again."

"It's okay," Nicole replied, pulling the duvet up. "Come in."

Wynonna hovered outside. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did."

Nicole nodded. "I should have said something."

My huff interrupted their peacemaking mission. "No you shouldn't. Our relationship doesn't need her say-so."

"Waves," Wynonna interrupted, "can you give us a moment?"

"No fucking way. I'm part of this now. Don't you dare treat me like a little kid."

"There's something I need to say to Nicole. This isn't about you, I promise."

"Whatever you have to say, you can say it to me."

Nicole looked between the two of us. "Waves, give us a moment."

My fingers tightened on the handle of the mug, my anger shifting from Wynonna to Nicole, who apparently was siding with that bitch of a sister against me. "Fine. Treat me like a child."

The motion of thumping a full mug on my dressing table made some of its contents spill over the side. The plate of toast deposited with equal force I stormed off, cursing under my breath, humiliated by my supposed girlfriend and my supposed sister, who saw nothing wrong in excluding me from their 'grown-up' talk.