* * *
Two days had passed. Somehow, we got into an easy flow. I read for an hour. Daddy even gave me feedback on occasion, as much as he could—changing a word here or there.
A knock on the door interrupted my reading.
“Hey, Vickie!” I greeted my brother when he popped his head into the door. An athletic bag was slung over his shoulder.
He gave me a two-finger salute. “Rae-Rae.” His eyes drifted to Daddy. “What are you guys up to?”
I lifted my reader in my hand. “Reading my soon-to-be New York Times best seller.”
“What?” Vic walked into the room and sat. “I’ve been begging you to let me read your book.”
“I wasn’t ready.”
He lifted an eyebrow and waved toward Daddy. “Obviously you are.”
“Fine. I’ll send it to you tonight.”
Vic sighed, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes. “I’m beat. I’ll just listen for now, like Pop.”
“Fine.” I turned my attention back to my dad. Tears shone in his eyes.
“Chapter Eighteen: The Girls with No Booties are always the main ones trying to twerk.”
Vic’s eyes flew open. “Really?”
“Really. Sit back and learn something, young one.”
I read the chapter to lots of laughter—from Victor—and wheezing—from Daddy. A few nurses came in to ask about the commotion.
“All right, Raina.” Vic shook his head. “I have to admit that it’s good. Who knew you’d break down self-esteem issues so thoroughly?”
“I aim to please. People hate being preached to. You have to make it funny and relatable. I got to do that a bit on my radio show, but I love writing. I get to explore and delve as deep as I want and not worry about commercials or offending the FCC.”
Vic stood and stretched. “I’m hitting up the vending machine. You want anything?”
“Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups if they have them.”
Victor grinned. “You love those, too?”
I nodded. “Loved them since . . .”
Memories flooded me. Daddy returning home with a pack of Reese’s. If he hit it big that week, he’d bring home a king-sized pack.
Daddy swallowed from the bed, jerked his head down.
“Yeah,” I whispered and looked away. “I love them.”
Vic dropped his smile and then reached for my shoulder for a comforting squeeze. “I’m gonna make a quick call, too. I’ll be back—”
“Take your time. You’ve left me by myself for two days.” I shrugged and lifted my tablet. “Just know that you’re missing out.”
He grinned, waved at Daddy, then left the room.
“Okay, just me and you again. And lookee here, only two chapters left.”
Daddy nodded, as if to say “go on.”
“Chapter Nineteen: The Girl . . .” I stumbled a bit on the title. “The Girl Who Doesn’t Know How to Love.”
I took a deep breath and read. This chapter was for women like me, issues a mile long and dragging baggage any which way they can. I’d occasionally look up from my passage. Daddy was tired, his breathing more labored. I was surprised he’d lasted this long. I finally ended the chapter.
You know how to love.
“Do I?” I shook my head. “You were the first man to break my heart. I don’t think it’s been the same since the day you left us.”
Sorry. Want to be good. But bad. You love Junior.
“He’s hard not to love.” I grinned. “And yes, I love him. Love my mom. Love y—” I stopped myself from the confession. I didn’t want to torture him, but I couldn’t give him power over me again. Words were powerful. If I gave in, told him I loved him, he could break my heart again. This time it wouldn’t be his fault. He’d break my heart when he died. I couldn’t afford another crack.
“Chapter Twenty: The Girl Who Became a Woman.” I read the last chapter and sighed, still looking at my book. “Well? What do you think? Am I destined for stardom?” I hadn’t asked for his opinion, didn’t want to until I was done reading the book.
“Proud,” his scratchy voice whispered. He struggled to breathe.
I looked up, peered over the top of my brightly lit screen, and smiled.
Daddy pulled in another breath. He winced. His brown eyes reflected his pain. He looked at me, really looked at me, as if he were burning me into his memory, etching me into his soul.
My heart stuttered. I knew, suddenly I knew.
He was ready. He wanted to leave this world, but he held on. I knew then why he lingered.
“Daddy, I love you. I forgive you.”
He blinked rapidly, breathing heavily again, and gave me a near-imperceptible nod.
I stood, leaned over his frail body, and kissed his forehead. I smoothed the roughened grooves with the back of my hand. “I’ll take care of Vickie. He won’t ever be alone. Promise.”
“Love you,” he whispered. He continued to stare at me until the light dimmed in his eyes. With one last breath, he died.
The monitor flatlined into a steady whine. A nurse rushed around me, stood over him, and then closed his eyes. He’d died in peace, with his children, surrounded by love. More than he could ask for, I know he’d say, but he got it. And I was proud I was able to give him closure.
Victor rushed into the room, took in Daddy’s lifeless body, and gulped deep. I opened my arms and he rushed into them. Hot tears splashed on my cheeks, cascaded down my shoulders.
“I don’t have parents anymore.” Victor’s voice shook.
“No, but you’ve got me. And your big sister has a lot of making up to do.” I squeezed his torso.
“We’ve got each other, Raina.”
I nodded. “We do. And one day we’ll grow our family. You’ll have kids and so will I. They’ll be cousins and best friends. Maybe we’ll live beside each other.”
“Now you’re taking it too far.”
I laughed and sniffed. “Okay, but five miles tops. You can’t be too far away.”
“I can deal with that. But you’ll have to ask my wife first.”
“She’ll love me.” I stepped away from his arms. I turned and took in the nurses’ worried faces.
“It’s okay. We’re okay.” I side squeezed my brother. “Vic, you call all of his friends and family, and I’ll make arrangements with Nurse Penny.”
Victor pulled out his phone, avoiding Daddy’s body in the bed. “You sure?”
“I’ve got this. You handle the calls and let me know if you want help with that, too.”
* * *
The funeral director parked the hearse. He cleared his throat. “Ready?” His voice felt like a warm cup of chamomile tea, soothing and just the right temperature.
I steadied Vic’s bouncing knee with my hand. “Yeah. We’re ready.”
The church service had gone by in a blur. There wasn’t much of a crowd. Most of his gambling buddies had died, which left a sprinkling of family I hadn’t seen in years, a few of Vic’s friends, Sienna, Kara, and Mama.
Now we were at the grave site. Surprisingly, Daddy had wanted to be buried in Atlanta, by his parents and the sister who died before I was born. Vic had seemed bothered that he wouldn’t be laid to rest by his mother, but he hadn’t put up much of a fight. I think Vic needed to move on as much as I had.