Page 84 of The Quirky Vet

"Yeah. What time is she getting in?"

"Don't know. Sometime in the morning. She's flying in on a charter plane to Billabong Downs then driving in from there."

"Is she coming alone?"

"Don't know that either. We've only spoken briefly a few times, and it's mainly been about legal and admin stuff like obtaining the death certificate, notifying the bank and insurance company, and starting the process of settling the estate."

Fitz's eyes narrow. "You mean the house?"

"Amongst other things, yeah."

Gramps wasn't rolling in it, but he had some savings, a few investments, and some valuable personal items like his precious war medals and artwork that had been in his family for generations.

"Did you get a vibe from her?"

"Not really. She sounded…sad? Maybe. I couldn't really tell. It was weird, and I'm not exactly in the best headspace to be psychoanalysing her."

"Of course. What can I do for you when it comes to her?"

"Are you asking if I want you to take my mother out, like in a mobster way?"

He smiles, and the tension that had been creeping into hisvoice loosens a little. "No. I mean, like, do you want me to hover and take you away when I see her upsetting you, or do you want me to leave you alone and give you guys some space? Am I being nice to her? Or just bare-minimum polite? It's all your call."

"You'd do that for me?"

His eyes shimmer, and he reaches out, grazing his fingers up and down my arm. "I'd do anything for you."

"Except for taking her out."

His smile grows. "The one exception."

"Just…just be you. That's all I need."

He nods even though my response is super vague because I honestly don't know what I need until I'm standing face to face with her. So much of it depends on the moment, on what she's being like, on how I'm feeling. It's hard to pre-plan these things.

"Consider it done."

16

Fitz

I fucking hate funerals.

Watching my twin brother's tiny casket lower into the ground saw to that. Thankfully, I've been blessed and haven't had to attend many over the years.

But today, I had no choice.

There's no way I could skip out on being here. And honestly, I wouldn't want to. Muir needs me, so there's nowhere else I'd want to be.

I watch Sally Hoffman like a hawk, my whole body tense and on edge. She may be Muir's mother, and we are at a funeral, but I'm not going to let her say or do even theslightestthing to upset Muir.

Not on my fucking watch.

We're standing on opposite sides of the casket.

Muir is by my side, dark glasses covering his eyes, his muffled sobs filling the air from time to time. She's dressed in a navy dress and sensible heels, standing stiffly and shifting from foot to foot, like she'd rather be anywhere but here.

Guess that's one thing we both can agree on.