CHAPTER 22 #2
Two days late. A week late. Months late.
That was the rhythm of my Daddy. He arrived after the applause stopped.
After the tears dried. After the real moment had already lived and died without him.
My graduation was no different. I had stopped expecting him years ago.
Still, some part of me always looked for him to be there.
Saturday afternoon came hot and slow. Two days after my graduation.
I was chilling on the front steps, flipping through a Temple brochure.
A car rolled down the block. An old, loud car that had seen better years.
I didn’t look up at first. Cars pass by all day.
It stopped in front of the house and I heard the door slam.
“Hey Sum-Bug.”
His voice was older and rougher now. Daddy stood at the bottom of the steps. Time had touched him hard. His hair had started thinning near the temples. Lines carved deeper around his mouth. He smiled. The same big grin that used to make me feel like the most important girl in the world.
“Look at cha’,” he said.
“You a grown woman now.”
I stood up slowly.
“You missed it.” I said with. disappointment.
He winced slightly.
“Yeah… I heard.”
“It was two days ago.”
“I was tryna make, I jus’ got a lil’ caught up.”
I rolled my eyes. Something always came up. Excuses I had heard my whole life. He pulled a small box from his jacket pocket.
“I got you sum’n’.”
I stared at it for a while before taking it. Inside lay a thin gold necklace with a tiny sun charm hanging from the chain.
“Figured it fit,” he said.
“Summer and all.”
I closed the box slowly.
“Thanks.” The irritation written all over my face.
Mama stepped onto the porch behind me. Her expression hardened immediately.
“Well look who finally remembered he got a family.”
Daddy sighed.
“Hey Denise…”
“You couldn’t show up one day on time?”
“I was tryin’—”
“You always tryin’, Tony.” Her voice cracked slightly.
“But you neva actually doin’.”
The twins ran out the door behind her.
“Yo, wus up pops!” Saiyd shouted.
Daddy crouched immediately.
“There’s my boys.”
He hugged them both tight. No matter how many times he disappointed us, he was still daddy.
That evening he sat on the porch beside me while the sun dropped. Daddy leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.
“I hear you goin’ to Temple?”
“Yep, I got a scholarship.”
“Basketball boy goin’ too?”
“His name is Marcus.”
“Yeah, him.”
I nodded. Daddy stared down the block for a long time.
“You know,” he said quietly,
“I used ta think I was gon’ be something… I had big dreams.”
“Ya know, it’s neva too late.”
He laughed softly.
“Nah. Life made decisions for me.”
We sat in silence for a moment. Then he looked at me.
“I’m proud’a you, Summer.”
The words did hit as hard as I expected. I had waited years to hear them.
“I wish I had been there,” he added.
I shrugged.
“Well, you here now.”
The truth was complicated. Part of me wanted to forgive him. Part of me wanted to stay angry forever. Before he left, he hugged me again.
“You gon’ do big things,” he said.
“I can feel it.”
I nodded. He stepped toward the old car. Paused.
“You take care of dem boys too,” he added, gesturing toward the house. Giving me instructions that he didn’t even listen to himself.
“They need you.”
“I know.”
He got into the car and drove away. Same as always.
In the living room, sitting on the couch, I held the little sun necklace.
The metal felt warm in my hand. Two days late.
Just like always. The anger inside me softened.
My Daddy loved me. I never doubted that.
But love and presence are two different things.
He had only given me one. And the world forced me to survive without the other.
That difference made me stronger than either of us expected.
The block muted just enough for every sound to carry. I heard the car. The annoying rumble of the engine. I stepped to the door. It was Shay, standing just off the curb.
“Hey, lil’ sis.” she said. Like she just seen me yesterday. Like she ain’t missed nothing.
“Hey.”
“Come on,” she said, nodding toward the porch.
“Let’s go celebrate.”
She didn’t come in the house. Didn’t even try.
“Mama in dere,” I said.
“I know,” she answered quick.
“I jus’… I ain’t got tha energy ta fight wit’ Mama tonight.”
So, we sat on the same steps we grew up on. It was weird now. Like we was sitting on two different versions of the same life. She held out a bag. Not fancy. Not wrapped.
“I got you somethin’,” she said.
I took it. But I would’ve traded it for her being there at my graduation. For her standing in that crowd. For her clapping when they called my name. We sat there for a second. Too much to say. Neither of us saying it.
“You look nice,” she added, nodding at my outfit.
“Thanks.”
Her hair was swooped low over one side of her face. Too intentional. The wind blew just enough and I could see the dark, swelling underneath. A black eye she thought she was hiding. I didn’t say nothing. Didn’t ask. I already knew. Besides asking wouldn’t change it.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“I shoulda been there. For you. For them.”
Her voice dropped on that last part.
‘Them.’ I nodded. Didn’t push it. Part of me wanted to be mad but the other part was glad she was sitting there at all.
“Dey ask ‘bout you all da time,” I said.
“They in dere now wit’ Mama.”
She looked down.
“Next time,” she said. Too quick. Too easy. Like she already knew it was a lie.
Rudely, a beeping horn blasted through our connection. Shay didn’t turn around, just rolled her eyes a little.
“I ain’t even been here five minutes,” she muttered.
I looked at her. The car sat there, engine running, rushing her. I hated that. Hated how it felt like he was timing her. Timing us.
“I’m goin’ to college,” I said, cutting through it.
“Fa’ real?”
“Yeah. I got accepted to Temple for criminal law.”
“Yo’ Sum, dat’s dope.”
“Thanks,” I added.
“I’m not stayin’ stuck here.”
“Good.” Was all she said.
I waited. For something more. For her to say she was proud of me. That I did something right. But she didn’t. She just nodded. The tension sat there between us. Unsaid. Heavy.
“Open ya’ gift,” she said, changing the subject.
I pulled the airbrushed shirt out the bag. It was me and her, when we were younger. Smiling. Standing close like nothing could pull us apart. Across the front, in big letters, Sisters Forever. My throat tightened. That version of us was real once.
“Dat’s when we went to da park,” she said pointing.
“You remember?”
“Yeah,” I said. I did. Clear as anything. Back when things was simple. Back when she was always there.
“It’s nice,” I said, folding it careful.
“Thanks.”
She smiled a little, and the horn beeped again. Longer this time, more impatient. Shay stood up.
“I gotta go,” she said.
Of course she did. She always did. I stood with her. Didn’t hug her right away. Didn’t want to make it feel like goodbye. But it was. It always was.
“Tell da twins I’ll come see ‘em soon,” she said.
I nodded. Even though we both knew that wasn’t promised. We hugged. Long. Hard. And she started walking toward the car.
“Be safe,” I said.
She paused.
“You too… college girl.” she answered.
Then she turned. Got in. The car pulled off quick like it had somewhere more important to be.
And just like that she was gone, again. I stood there on the porch, the shirt still in my hands.
The block didn’t react. Didn’t pause. Just kept moving.
Like it always did. I wasn’t sure when I would see her again, but I knew one thing.
No matter how far she drifted, a part of her was still tied to me.
Even when life pulled us in different directions, that always stayed. Sisters. Forever.
TIMING
For most of my life, summer meant freedom.
Schools out, sipping water ice on hot afternoons, music pouring from car windows, kids racing bikes up and down the block until the streetlights buzzed on.
But this summer was the last one. My last summer before college. The last summer before my life changes.
Leaving scared me. It wasn’t the school, or the classes. Not even the thought of being on a campus where people talked about internships instead of dice games. What scared me was leaving them. Mama. Sinceer. Saiyd. The block.
I was in my room packing the last few things for college. Clothes. Books. Pictures. Every item felt massive. Each one meant leaving. Mama set in the doorway serenely watching me.
“Are ya’ scared?” She asked.
“Yeah.”
She nodded.
“Well, dat’s normal.”
She moved closer and hugged me tight.
“You breakin’ a cycle, Summer.” Her voice cracked slightly.
“Do you know how rare dat is?”
I didn’t answer. Breaking cycles didn’t mean the cycle ended. It just meant someone else had to carry that weight.