Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Arizona
“ D ad, you haven’t even been home from the hospital for a full day. You need to slow down,” I pleaded.
“The Christmas tree won’t decorate itself.”
“And I don’t want you to land back in the hospital.”
He had spent over a week there, and while his recovery improved daily—partly due to the sessions in the compression chamber to help his lungs—taking it slow wasn’t in the man’s nature, even when the team of doctors advised him that his body needed rest.
But I knew why decorating was so important.
It was the elephant in the room.
“Your threats won’t work on me,” he replied as each rung on the ladder brought him closer to the top of the tree. “A sore leg won’t stop me from decorating.”
“Mom would understand—” My voice cracked under an air of sadness that began to blur my vision as I watched Dad place another ornament with added care.
“Your Mom took so much pride in decorating the tree. She’d say every ornament had its place and a story to accompany it.”
He wasn’t wrong. We had hand-crafted all the decorations from as far back as I could remember. From the salt dough ornaments painted with care to beaded wire angels, sticker foam cut-outs to colored construction paper slathered with way too much glue and feathers, each piece held sentimental value.
I vividly recalled the year I suggested we upgrade our tree décor to a less kiddish version—I was in second grade at the time. The expression on Mom’s face was that of pure horror and disbelief. “Arizona, we will do no such thing. Every single ornament was made with love and it makes me happy.”
Little did we know that would be our last Christmas as a family of three.
“I know how Mom liked the decorations; let me do this for you.”
“For us.”
As he stepped down, my eyes glossed over. I looked up at the photo ornament of him and Mom on their wedding day, with the words first married Christmas inscribed beneath it. He wrapped his arm around me and gently kissed my forehead before we stood silently, reflecting on the memories that intertwined our past and present.
“Why don’t you sit and rest for a bit? I’ll make you a tea and warm up one of the scones I made you.”
“Don’t you need to get ready for your photo shoot?”
“Is that your way of getting rid of me?”
“Absolutely not. I’ve appreciated the time we’ve spent together over the past week and all your help. However, it’s time for you to resume your own life, go back to work, and see your friends. I also know you postponed the calendar shoot to take care of me.”
“Because you almost died, Dad.”
“But I didn’t. I’m good now, I promise.”
Since the night of the fire, my head had been a mess. No matter what calming techniques I tried to stop the downward spiral of my thoughts, I struggled to come to terms with just how close I had come to losing the last surviving parent I had. The realization of how easily he could have been taken from me forever was crippling.
“Ari, come here, sit.” He patted the couch cushion beside him.
I went to him without hesitation, craving the comfort only his embrace could provide. I was completely unashamed that I still needed my dad to help calm my fears.
He draped a blanket over my lap. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”
“You’re still recovering.”
“My ears work just fine,” he retorted.
“Dad.” I patted his chest.
“What? Do you think I don’t know what you’re thinking or feeling? Or realize just how close I was to seeing your mom again? I could hear her voice and smell her scent when I was unconscious; it felt real. While I would have given almost anything to hold her in my arms again, I couldn’t do that to you. You’re my precious girl, and we still have so much life ahead of us to live together. I want to witness you fall in love, walk you down the aisle, hold my future grandbabies in my arms, and care for them. I dream about them running around the fields just like you used to and getting their hands dirty with potting soil. When my time does come, I want to have no regrets about the life I’ve lived.”
He paused, and I couldn’t help but think about how hard it must have been to feel like my mom was right there with him.
“Your mom and I struggled to conceive you, Ari, especially as her friends were getting pregnant without even trying. The journey was difficult for both of us, mentally, but every struggle was worthwhile because you became our greatest blessing. Sadly, though, life isn’t always fair or goes to plan, as your mom was taken from us far too soon. Neither of us got a chance to say goodbye or to tell her we loved her just one more time.” Tears steadily streamed down both our cheeks. “Arizona Grace,” I lifted my chin to meet his glossy gaze, “I love you, sweetheart, and I’m so incredibly proud to be your dad.”
“I love you too, even though you almost full-named me.” I chuckled.
“Forever, my baby, you’ll be, and remember, the best way we can continue to honor your mom’s memory is to live every day to the fullest and lead with our hearts.”
I closed my eyes and snuggled into his chest as his words surrounded me with courage.
“I know how dedicated you are to your job, but don’t forget to go grab life. I’ve hesitated to bring this up before, but since we’re on the topic of life, I’m going to take a risk now.” I sat up straight and put a little distance between us. “I worry that you’ve closed yourself off from the possibility of finding love out of fear from what happened to your mom.”
I sucked in a shaky breath of air in surprise. “What makes you think that?”
“A parent just knows, sweetheart. While you’re skilled at masking your emotions, I can see you’re afraid to let anyone get close.”
“It’s the small-town curse; everyone around my age I’ve known since I was a kid. If something were meant to happen, it would have by now.”
“Not necessarily.”
“Trust me, Dad, that ship sailed long ago.”
“So, there was a person of interest?”
“I thought you were aware of everything?”
“Okay, well, maybe not everything. I’ve got to let you keep some secrets, although I’ve had my suspicions.”
“And moving on.”
“Listen, Ari, I won’t ever lie to you; losing the partner I believed I would spend my life with forever changed me. Just remember, though, there will always be storm clouds in life that come with obstacles to overcome. Those hardships don’t make us weak; they test our resilience. To this day, I still consider myself the luckiest man alive to have been loved by her, and I cherish the time we shared together.” He rubbed his hand over his heart where my mom’s name was tattooed.
For the first time in ages, I felt lighter as the persistent heaviness on my chest had begun to ease. Having tough conversations wasn’t always easy, but having them with someone who recognized your struggle and could offer a fresh perspective and a supportive shoulder on which to cry made me feel not so alone.
While I had dipped my toes into the dating pool outside of Sutton River and had some not-so-stellar dates, I knew my worth and wouldn’t compromise my standards for anyone. My dad, however, was right about one thing: I had unknowingly closed off my heart.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t already found the person who made it skip a natural beat, but rather because that person didn’t view me in the same light, and I refused to be just another fleeting companion to keep their bed warm when the time suited them.