Ashes of Passion

"We need a family member's signature before we can proceed with the cremation."

The doctor on duty slid Dad's death certificate across the desk. I picked up the pen and signed my name, Lucas Gibson.

The doctor frowned at my signature. "Where are your parents? Something this serious needs to be handled by a legal guardian."

I shook my head and handed the paperwork back. "There's no one else. I'm all he has… had."

…

A few hours later, I walked out of the crematorium holding a square black urn. There was a light drizzle, so I wrapped the urn tightly in my jacket and hailed a cab. It was already dark by the time I got to the hillside mansion.

When I pushed the front door open, I found the living room brightly lit.

My mother, Celia Gibson, was sitting at the dining table with Arthur and his son, Noah Poole. The three of them laughed and chatted like they were one big, happy family.

They all looked up when they heard the door open. For a moment there, I felt like a stranger intruding on someone else's home.

Celia seemed surprised to see me. "Lucas? Why are you soaking wet? Go take a shower, then tell your father to come downstairs and have some birthday cake with Noah."

Dad had literally just passed away, yet Celia had already brought Arthur and his son over from Southbank to celebrate a birthday.

I stood in the doorway and stared at them coldly. "Dad's not coming down."

Celia frowned, her voice growing impatient. "Is he still throwing a tantrum?"

She stopped peeling the shrimp in her hands, glanced briefly at the urn wrapped in my old jacket before looking away dismissively. "Tell him to stop playing the victim. It's getting old, and frankly, it's pathetic."

Noah cautiously approached me and placed several boxes of expensive nutritional supplements on the coffee table. "Lucas, my father had someone bring these back especially for Mr. Olson. They're supposed to help him recover."

He hesitated before continuing, "I know Mr. Olson is upset with us, but my father's depression has been getting worse again this month. He just wanted to spend a little more time with Ms. Gibson. We really didn't mean to cause any trouble for your family."

I tightened my grip on the urn and started toward the stairs. "Take them back. He doesn't need them anymore."

Celia suddenly yanked off her silk scarf and snapped, "Lucas! Your father has completely turned you against me! Whatever's going on between us adults is none of your business! Don't you dare take that attitude with me!"

She pointed toward the closed master bedroom door upstairs and continued angrily, "Arthur's never been in good health. What's so wrong with me spending one extra day with him? Does Liam really have to threaten to kill himself every time he wants me to come home?"

Arthur gently tugged at her sleeve. "Celia, please don't be angry. Liam just lost a baby. Of course, he's hurting. He has every right to be upset."

He coughed softly, his eyes turning teary. "Maybe Noah and I should just head back to Southbank. Having us here will only upset Liam even more."

Celia immediately grabbed his wrist and said firmly, "This is your home, too. If Liam wants to sulk, then he can stay locked in that bedroom until he comes to his senses."