Chapter 6 #3
How could it all have changed so quickly? A year ago, he was just my dad, with his white tufts of hair and easy laugh. Then his throat had started to hurt, and he’d gotten a stomachache that wouldn’t go away.
Now…now, his hair was a distant memory, and his laugh was so strained, I hated to hear it.
He was supposed to be getting better. In what world was it possible for both my parents to fade in the same way? It wasn’t right. It couldn’t be…
“It’s time, Mazzy,” he said. “Treatment isn’t working, and I’m old and tired.”
My eyes slammed closed. If I could have, I would’ve closed my ears too. But I had to hear this. There was no getting out of it.
“I can’t do this without you,” I whispered through preemptive grief and dread.
Because it was true. My dad was my backbone.
He was more than a grandad; he was a second parent to Katty.
Without him, we’d just be two, and what kind of family would that be?
We were perfect as three. I didn’t know if we’d be able to stand without him. If I would be able to stand…
“I have a plan,” he started, each word heaved from the final depths of his strength. “I called my sister in Colorado.”
“You called Aunt Barb?” That was almost as shocking as his first news. My dad wasn’t close to his younger sister and hadn’t spoken to his parents since he’d left home. As far as I could remember, I’d met my aunt once, at my papa’s funeral. She’d hugged me and smelled like lavender. “Why?”
He squeezed my fingers. “It’s not going to be easy, me going. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but you can’t handle it on your own. And after…I don’t want you and Katty to be alone.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. He didn’t need that. He wanted to talk logistics, to set his mind at ease. No matter how devastated I was, I had to give him that. There would be plenty of time for crying. The rest of my life. For now, I had to be the one he could lean on.
“What are you saying?”
His exhale was so rattly, I nearly leaped across the table to give him some of my breath.
“Barb is coming. Her daughter, Kylie, too. They’re going to pack us up and bring us home with them. Barb’s retired. She can—” He swallowed hard, his eyes drifting to his half-empty mug. “You can keep taking your classes, and Barb will help me when I need it.”
“That’s too much. And I want to be the one to help you. That’s how it’s always been.”
His gaze came back to me, solid this time. Almost stern. It was so unlike him, I sat up and paid attention.
“This was Barb’s idea, and I agree. If you don’t want to come…”
“Of course I’m coming with you,” I rushed out. “There is no way you’re going off with Aunt Barb and leaving me behind. No way.”
He offered me a tremulous smile. “That was a pretty empty threat anyway. There’s no way on this green earth I’d leave you and Katty behind.”
I got up, circled my daughter’s high chair, and leaned down to hug my dad’s bony shoulders. He chuffed in my hair, leaning hard against me. He’d lost so much weight he was barely a feather.
“How close to Denver does Aunt Barb live?” I whispered.
He vibrated as he sucked in a shallow breath. “Close, sweetheart.”
I pressed my face against the side of his beanie, wishing I could feel his chick fluff one more time.
“It’ll be okay. It doesn’t matter.”
It truly didn’t. I rarely thought of Ben these days. Just when Katty’s curls were especially unruly or she laughed just so…
He patted my arm. “Everything will be fine. You’ll see.”
Seven Months Later…
Kateryna climbed onto my lap and pressed her hot hands to my cheeks. “Cryin’, Mama?”
“Yeah, sweetheart.” Smiling through my tears, I pressed my forehead to hers. “Mommy’s sad today.”
She hummed. “Dido’s gone?”
I choked back a sob. “That’s right. Dido’s gone.”
She tucked her head against my throat, draping her pudgy little arms over my shoulders. Her curls tickled my chin, and her pink-framed glasses dug into my collarbone.
It was perfect. Exactly what I needed.
My sweet, sweet girl.
“I miss Dido,” she murmured softly.
“I miss him too. So, so much.”
One day. It had been one day, and I missed him with the heat of a thousand suns.
Then again, I’d been missing him piece by piece as he’d faded.
His hair, his laugh, his hand around mine, his quick wit, his playfulness.
Stories about him and Papa only he knew.
The last thing we lost was his eyes. I wish I’d known when they were going to close for the final time.
I would have looked at them longer. I would have memorized everything about his gaze—the exact color of his irises, the way they lit up for Katty and me.
But he was gone, along with everything that made him who he was. All I had were the parts of him he’d braided into me, making me who I was.
“No more Dido,” Katty murmured, twirling her fingers in my hair.
“It’s just us, Katty girl.” I kissed her head and breathed in her baby goodness. “Just Mommy and Katty. I love you so much.”
She sighed, hot on my chest. “Love you, Mama.”
For today, that would be enough.