The funeral director opened my door. Carefully, I placed my heels on the concrete as he assisted me out of the car. My brother stepped beside me. I reached for his hand and took a deep breath. “Don’t let go.”
He squeezed my hand and nodded. We marched forward, the small crowd already in place. I smiled and nodded at Sienna and Kara, and my mouth popped open in surprise when I spotted Nikki. She gave me a soft smile, yet her eyes told me girl, what the hell?
I gave her a quick nod and then my attention went to Ma, who stood by my friends. She, too, gave me a sad smile and then blew me a kiss.
A tap on my shoulder startled me. Fixing my lips into a smile, I turned to graciously accept the condolences that were sure to follow.
“Hey.”
My breath caught. “C-cam?” My body shook from the impact. It had been months since I’d seen him.
“What are you doing here?”
His dark eyes swirled with emotion. “You text me nonstop, but you don’t when your father dies?” He seemed confused, uneasy.
“You didn’t seem to be interested in seeing me, so I . . . I didn’t want to bother you. Anyway . . . thanks for coming here for Vic Junior.”
“You’re never a bother, Raina. And I’m here for you, if you’ll have me.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks. Damn, this entire time I hadn’t cried about Daddy’s passing, but this man, my soul mate, swallowing his pride to take care of me had me sniffling like a proud mama on her daughter’s wedding day.
“No pressure,” Cam whispered “I just want to be here for you.”
I hadn’t realized how long I’d been staring at Cameron. “I’ll have you,” I whispered. Forever.
Cam smiled and blew a relieved breath, then he grabbed my hand.
Vic snorted. “You knew damn well she was gonna have you.”
“Shut up, Vickie.” I bumped his shoulder with mine.
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go sit down.” With Cam and Vic on either side, we settled in the three seats in front of Daddy’s final resting place.
Everyone took a seat. The program was short and sweet, as Daddy would’ve wanted. The funeral director gave us roses and we tossed them on the casket.
“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” I repeated after the preacher.
“Goodbye, Daddy. Love you.”
Cameron flinched beside me. We turned away and walked toward the car. Vic speed-walked in front of us. I knew he was trying to give us space. I stopped in my tracks. “I love you, you know.”
“I know you do, Raina. I love you, too.”
“I know this isn’t the most romantic spot to confess, but I want it all with you. I want to be your wife, I want kids, I want to be yours. For always.”
Cameron shook his head and looked around. “Only you would propose grave side.”
“Oh, I’m not proposing. You have to ask me again.”
“Nope.” We walked to the car. He opened the door and we both slid in.
Cam resumed the conversation. “You have to propose. I want candles, some R-and-B slow jams, and it wouldn’t hurt if you wore lingerie.” He leaned in and whispered, “Or nothing at all.”
“Trying to grieve over here.” Vic stuck fingers in his ears. “La la la la. You two are disgusting.”
I tilted my head back and laughed. Today I’d told my Daddy goodbye for the last time. This time he didn’t leave on his own accord. I’d forgiven him, forgiven myself, and in the process gained a little brother and devoted boyfriend—soon-to-be husband, once he proposed. My heart was full.
CHAPTER 18
Cleaning House—Kara
I attacked the counters with all the vigor I could muster, as if the few crumbs and invisible microorganisms personally insulted me. I started my war against germs at six a.m. Raina had stumbled down the steps, taken in my cleaning frenzy, crossed herself as if warding off bad spirits, and hurried back upstairs.
I stopped midwipe when my cell buzzed against the table. I looked at the screen and picked up the phone. “Hey, Dad.”
“Hey, sweet pea.” His voice was light, soft, and slurred.
He’s drunk. “Dad.” My voice broke. A stoic man, my father usually kept it all inside, but on anniversaries and birthdays, a crack appeared in his steel armor.
“Ya know what today is?”
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Mom’s birthday.” I tossed the dish cloth in the sink and settled on the barstool by the counter.
“I got a rum cake, her favorite. Even put the candles on the damn thing, all fifty-seven of ’em. But I couldn’t . . . I can’t blow them out.” His voice shook. “If I do, she’ll go away.”
“Daddy. She’s already gone.”
“I feel her, Kara. I know she’s with me.”
“No, Dad. She’s gone.” I said it more firmly, not only for him but for myself. Daddy grieved, like I’d been doing for the past few weeks before I had my awakening. He was living half a life since the heartbeat of our family died.
The phone beeped. I glanced down at my screen. Darren.
“Decline.” I hit the button. I knew that he wanted to comfort me, but I needed to focus on Daddy.
“What’s that, sweet pea?”
“Why don’t I come over?” I asked, changing the subject. “I can cook us something nice. Chicken, yellow rice, and plantains? Mama loved—”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I don’t want you to come over. No, I don’t want you cooking nothing your mama ain’t around to eat.”
Ain’t around? I shook my head at Dad’s denial, that is, until I remembered that Darren had suggested the very thing last year and I pushed him off. I couldn’t bear doing something Mama enjoyed without her here.
“Okay. Are you going to visit her gra—I mean, visit her?”
“I already did this morning. Talked to Father Frank, too.” He dropped his despondent tone and switched to authoritative, though he was still slurring his words. “Said he saw you a few months ago.”
I stopped swiveling on the barstool. “We spoke.” My voice was clipped. “Is Father Frank sticking around today?”
The church was located just down the road from the cemetery. Father Frank often floated around caring for the grounds, although the church paid someone to do it.
But he shouldn’t be. It was a Tuesday, which meant volunteer day at the halfway house downtown. At least that was his schedule a few years ago, when I used to go down and volunteer with him. Although I was getting better, I still wasn’t ready to add God to the mix.
“No, he said he had some errands to run. He told me to tell you and Tracey hello. Are you going to say hello to your mother?”
“Of course I am.”
“Right,” he whispered. “Gotta go.”
“Daddy?” I cleared the croak from my voice.
“Yes, Kara.”
“Blow out the candles. Mama wouldn’t want you to linger. She’d want you to heal, or at least try.”
“I’m trying, baby. Every day I’m trying.”
“I know, Daddy. Me, too. I’ll give you today. But maybe I can come over this weekend? I’ll see if Tracey can swing by, too. We don’t have to eat Mama’s favorite foods, but maybe we can just talk.”