“I brought some food,” I continue. “Would it be all right if we had lunch together? Or would you rather take a walk around the pond? It’s a beautiful day.” I glance up at Delilah who’s patiently watching our interaction.
“I like food,” he says with a chuckle. “What did you bring today?”
I motion Dee to come closer as I hold out my hand. “Gerard, I hope you don’t mind, I brought my girlfriend with me. This is Delilah.”
Dad eyes her outstretched hand, and he slowly reaches up to shake it.
“Hello, Mr. Reinhardt. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you,” Delilah says sweetly then sits in the chair next to me.
“You have the prettiest eyes, just like my Stella. Only hers are green.” Dad’s melancholy voice fills the room. “She’ll be home soon.”
The lump in my throat grows as he rants on about Mom. The many days when she sat on the balcony painting, her delicious goulash, and the way she brushed her hair twenty-five times on each side. Listening to him, it reminds me of the love they once shared. Dad’s smile grows as he continues to speak of Mom as if she’s still with us. And in a way, I feel her here, watching over me in this very moment.
“Well, would Stella mind if we start lunch without her?” I ask as I take the sandwiches, chips, and bottled waters out of the bag and set them on the table.
“Do you have banana bread in there too?” Dad asks, his eyes peeking in the brown bag. When I pull out three slices, his smile widens. “Thata boy, Brody. I knew you wouldn’t forget.”
My name coming from his mouth staggers me momentarily.
“Gerard,” I question gingerly, not sure if I should use his name or not. And if my dad is here, I will relish this moment and hope he will stay for a while so Dee can get to know him.
“Delilah, did you know that Brody is going into the navy?” My dad says it more like a statement, then turns to me. “When do you leave for Virginia, son?” He picks up the half-cut sandwich and takes a bite.
“Soon,” is all I can say, quickly picking up on which time frame he’s in right now.
“Well, I’m proud of you, son.” A tear stings the back of my throat hearing those five words from my dad, the closure I have been longing for. He holds out his arm, showing Dee the blacksmith hammer tattooed with the numbers 27:17. “Brody has the sword and I am his hammer. I have done my job and sharpened this man the best I know how.”
I pull up my sleeve and display my sword. “Iron sharpens iron.”
His fingers brush over the sword tattooed on my skin, then his eyes meet mine. “Wear it proudly, son. Never forget.”
I fight the tears welling in my eyes as Dad locks his gaze with mine. No longer is there animosity against the man before me. He is no longer an empty shell of a man. This is Gerard Reinhardt, my dad, my hero.
“Yes, sir. I will wear this proudly and I will never forget,” I tell him.
After we finish lunch, Delilah gathers the napkins and wrappers and tosses them in the garbage near the door.
“Delilah,” Dad calls out to her before she returns to her chair. “Can you grab that journal on my nightstand and hand it to me?” Delilah does as he requests. He opens to a page where the silk ribbon lays in the seam and hands it back to Delilah. “Do you mind reading these pages to me? My vision is not what it used to be, and I love the sound of your voice.”
“Yes, sir,” she says as she takes the leather journal from his hand and glances at me for the briefest of seconds. I smile and wrap my arm around her so I can lean in and follow along as she reads his words aloud.
She clears her throat before she begins.
“This is the day my son will carry my name. Just like I have done for my father. And he for his father and the many Reinhardt fathers before me. But what do I call him? I promised Stella I would give him a powerful name. I stare at the little miracle in the arms of my beautiful wife as they sleep so soundly in the hospital bed. I want to freeze time but know I can’t. I leave for a three-month deployment next week. Being away from the two most important people in my life is physically breaking me. I pray they will be safe while I’m away. And I hope he’ll know who I am when I return. I pray that he will grow up to be the man he is destined to be. A man that will reach for the stars and never settle for less. His little fingers will eventually take the hand of a woman and make her his. And I pray he will cherish her heart as I do my Stella’s. I can’t wait to hear his laughter when I crack a joke or his cries when he falls off his bike. Good things are coming and the perfect name he will have is after my great grandfather, Brody. He was a strong-willed Irishman, never gave up and valued family . . .”
While Delilah reads several more pages, my heart swells hearing about me and how I got my name. And it dawns on me he needed these journals to remember when his brain cannot.
Dad yawns and I take that as our cue to let him rest and I hope the next time we visit, it will be just like this one. And if it’s not, at least I got this moment to cherish.
As I help him to the bed, prop his frail body on the mattress, and pull the covers over him, I catalog this moment to my memory. Listening to his words, feeling the connection, and watching the smile on his face has me believing he remembers every bit of our life together.
I lean forward, press a kiss on his forehead, and leave my lips there for a beat. In a weird way, I feel like my father is gently telling me there’s not much time left.
When I stand up and look down at my dad, he grips my hand in both of his and tells me, “Your father must be very proud of you.”
Holding back the tears only because I know my dad is gone, all I can say is, “Yes, sir, he’s told me he is.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Delilah
“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Brody’s gravelly voice whispers in my ear, sending tingles down my spine and between my legs.
“What time is it?” I grumble, pulling the covers over my head.
“It’s oh-four-hundred.”
“In the morning?”
He chuckles. “Yes, sweetheart. In the morning.” He pulls the covers off my face and kisses my neck. “I have a surprise for you.”
“On top of the three or so orgasms you gave me last night?” I open one eye and grin. “Can you give me at least an hour to sleep?”
He’s on his side, elbow bent, leaning on his hand, and surveying my naked torso. His free hand caresses my tummy. “As much as I’d love to give you more, that’s not what I was talking about.”
“Then, why are we up so early?” I ask, then notice he’s fully dressed as I prop up on my elbows. “Are we going somewhere?”
“Yes, we’re going somewhere. Like I said, I have a surprise for you. So, I need your beautiful body out of bed and ready in thirty minutes.” Serena is sitting beside the bed watching us as if she understands. “Serena, wanna help me out here? Can you tell Dee that we have reservations?”
Serena barks once and walks back to her oversized bed in the corner of the room.
“Serena agrees with me. Reservations at the ass crack of dawn is crazy and ludicrous,” I huff. I look at him through my lashes as he levels his stare.