Stacy stood at the edge of the grave and stared down. The silver coffin was covered in red and white roses. Standing there, having already seen Ric's overly made-up face inside the church, she still couldn't believe that he was gone. She had collided with his dead body, but when her phone rang, she always expected Ric to be on the other end, telling her to stop by the club or meet him somewhere for lunch. She had touched his cold cheek as he lay in his coffin, but she still waited for him to come around the bushes and laugh because he had gotten the biggest one over on everybody.
There were at least a hundred people at the gravesite, standing on either side of the hole, but there was no family there. The only relative that had shown up at the funeral was her brother David, and that confrontation ended with Hunter prying her from him as she tried to gouge out his eyes. She could still hear his words in her head. "I just came to make sure the son of a bitch was really dead." The menace in those words would haunt her just as much as her screaming would.
Stacy stepped forward and watched as the coffin was lowered slowly into the ground. She rose her head to look around the group of people and gave a sad smile. "Dad would be really glad you all are here," she said, addressing the crowd. "He, um... I mean, I know he wasn't the greatest citizen Miami's ever seen but to me... To me, he's... he was... the best thing that could have ever happened.
"I still remember when my mom left me to live with him. I'd never even met my father. He said he'd seen me but... I thought it was going to be weird, ya know? And it was at first. I kept wanting my mom. I was thirteen and a girl that age needs her mom. But, she didn't want me. She left me with Dad and as much as I hated her for it in the beginning, I love her for it now.
"I don't look at it as being abandoned by my mom. I look at it as getting the best gift a girl could ever get. She gave me my daddy, and now..." Stacy swallowed and closed her eyes. She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Tears trickled down her cheeks and she wiped them away. She opened her eyes again and said, "I don't know where my mother is, but I know where my father is. He's in the same place he's been since I was thirteen years old. Right here, in my heart."
Stacy bent down at the knee and collected a handful of dirt. "Ashes to ashes," she whispered, "dust to dust." She stretched out her arm and opened her hand. The warm Miami wind fanned the dirt as it fell to hit the top of the coffin.
Stacy stood quietly, staring down into the ground. She heard the crowd moving around her, but didn't dare walk away. She had to stand there as long as possible, just in case his spirit still hung around somewhere. She had to let him have a last taste of unconditional love before he took his final journey.
She knew that somewhere to her left, Hunter stood. He had barely left her side since coming to get her from Ric's house. She had never thought of Hunter as particularly caring, but all of his actions seemed genuine. He didn't go maudlin and overboard. There was no breakfast in bed or brushes of her hair. He did, however, help her change her bandages. He listened to her cry at night. He told her to stop feeling sorry for herself because Ric wouldn't want that.
Stacy knew that Hunter was right. Ric Flair had raised her to be a strong woman. She was the vice president of Evolution Enterprises. As soon as the will was propogated, she would be the owner of every piece of recreational land Ric owned and a portion of his shares in Evolution Enterprises, the rest being divided up between his partners. She was young and strong and she could handle this. Just as soon as she realized that he wasn't going to get up out of the coffin and yell "Gotcha!"
A hand touched her arm and she turned. Trish looked up at her with sympathy, and Stacy returned the emotion. She knew that Trish had felt something, at least reverence, for Ric, but she also thought she was taking it a little harder than she should have. There were whispers around, and Stacy overheard soft conversations that were held between Hunter, Dave and Randy at the beach house, but no one was telling her anything concrete. She wasn't even sure she wanted to know. Sometimes, she wanted to believe that ignorance truly was bliss.
"I'm sorry," Trish said softly, rubbing Stacy's arm lightly. "You have no idea how sorry I am."
Stacy looked at her quizzically. "What do you have to be sorry for?"
"I..." She started to speak, then stopped and shook her head. "I know how much Ric meant to you and I wish there were something I could do to help you."
"Trish..."
"I've been there and..." She closed her eyes and let out a shallow breath. "If you need anything at all, even if it's just to talk or go shopping or whatever, call me. I'd offer you my cage for a night, but..."
"Club's closed for now."
"Yeah," she said softly. "But, I do have a cage at home if you want to play in it."
For the first time since she found Ric's body, Stacy smiled with genuine humor. "Do you really?"
"Yup. Bought it when I started at the club. I just like having it around. If you ever just need to relieve some stress, ya know? Don't hesitate...to..." Trish's words trailed off and Stacy looked down at her.
Trish was staring off into the crowd on the other side of the hole. Her forehead knit in confusion, then her eyes widened in surprise. She took a step forward and only Stacy's sudden grip kept her from falling into the grave. Trish snapped her head around to Stacy, then looked back across the way. Whatever she was looking at was gone.
"Trish?" Stacy looked past her when she didn't answer and waved over Randy. She felt Hunter walk up behind her. Dave and Chyna came up behind Hunter. "Trish, are you alright?"
"What happened?" Randy asked, pulling Trish towards him.
"I don't know. We were talking and... she just... went like that."
"Trish?" Randy gripped her arms and made her look at him. She blinked up at him, as though she was just seeing him. "Trish? What's wrong?"
"I..." She shook her head and turned to look back across the grave. Softly, barely audible, she said, "I just saw... at least I thought I saw..."
"Who did you see, Trish?"
Her voice softened even more as she said, "Christian."
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