Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
With my dress gathered in my hand and tears cascading down my face, I marched onto my porch. The screen door led to the storm door. I placed my key inside of the lock and twisted the knob.
“Dad!” I cried out. “Dad.”
I didn’t have the strength to remove my shoes. All the strength left would be used to fall into my father’s arms until the world didn’t feel so cold and my heart didn’t feel so broken.
“Dad! I found her. Dad!”
I rounded the corner, head and heart in shambles. On the chair he loved so much, my father sat with his eyes closed. Though I wanted him to rest, chaos was happening all around me. My world had been flipped upside down in a matter of minutes.
“I saw her.”
A blubbering mess, I sat on my father’s lap and wrapped my arms around him.
“She’s here. She’s in Tribec–”
My words came to a screeching halt as I noticed the rigidness of my father’s body. He was no longer the warm blanket that tucked me in when the world was too much. He was cool to the touch.
“Dad?”
I lifted my body and waited for him to respond.
Silence.
“Dad!”
Silence.
“Dad!”
“Ray Collins! Do not do this to me.”
Silence.
“Say something! Dad!”
Silence.
“Dad, please.”
I shook his lifeless body, hoping he would open those handsome eyes and tell me everything would be fine.
Silence.
“Dad.”
“Summer–” a familiar voice captivated me.
I turned to find Saul standing over me, hand on my shoulder. I hadn’t heard him come in. I hadn’t heard anything but my father’s loud silence.
“He’s gone, Summer.”
“No. He’s asleep.”
“Summer, baby–”
“Dad!”
Silence.
“Summer.”
“Saul, please. Please just– Just go. Please.”
“We need to call the medics.”
“I need you to give me a minute with my father! I’m sorry. I just need a minute.”
“I’ll make the call and I’ll be outside waiting whenever you need me.”
“Don’t– don’t wait up. Just– your father needs you. My father needs me.”
With a nod, Saul responded, “Understood.”
Each step he took shattered the piece of my heart my father had left on the floor.
Silence.
“Dad, I’m not ready. I’m not ready,” I wept against my father’s body. “I’m not ready.”
Animalistic cries erupted at the realization that the person who chose me each and every day had lived their last day on earth today. They’d taken their last breath. Said their last words. Wished their last goodbyes.
Knock.
Knock.
The days were seventy-two hours long. The nights lasted an entire thirty-six. And, each morning, at five-forty-five came a knock on the door. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t drag myself out of the bed.
I felt as if I was lost at sea. The rescue team was only a few feet away but I didn’t have the strength to wave my hand or make a sound. I had been stretched thin. Nothing was the same for me. Everything had changed four nights ago.
The woman who haunted me every day in my dreams, even the ones while I was awake, was now my reality. She’d raised two children that she didn’t birth and one she did with her husband.
Reuben Rutherford.
Angela Rutherford.
They were the perfect couple, only she wasn’t perfect. She was far from it. She’d left her daughter in the hospital with her father, gave up her parental rights, skipped town, changed her name, and jumped into a relationship with a single father.
Her history was repulsive, yet they had no idea. The people she catered to and cared for had no idea. The people who loved her dearly had no idea. She was a monster. A deadbeat mother. A fucking disgrace.
Her mother had given her up for adoption at only a year old for reasons unknown. With the adoption being closed, she had no way to discover who her biological mother was. She’d taken a note from her mother’s book and did the same for her child. Left me without a clue.
Ding.
Dong.
The days had begun to blur. Everything sounded the same. Everything looked the same. It wasn’t until the sound of a doorbell rang throughout the house that reminded me of my existence.
I peered at the vase holding my father’s ashes wondering if I was in a nightmare or if this was truly my life. Knowing I’d live without him one day and actually living without him were two very different things. I wanted him back. Not later… I wanted him now. He was my safe space.
I’d honored his wishes and put him through the fire. No service. No burial. Just cremation and most of his ashes spread in the ocean when I was ready to let go.
Ding.
Dong.
Saul.
He brought batteries. My body craved his but my spirit craved nothing. No one.
Ring.
Ring.
Our home phone rang for the hundredth time in the last week. My father wasn’t there to answer the calls. The obvious had taken place. Life had stolen him away from the few of us he kept near to his heart.
Ring.
Ring.
“You’ve reached Ray and Summer. Leave us a message and we’ll get back to you,” we said in unison.
“I won’t, Dad. Don’t lie to the people.”
“Well, I will get back to you or let Summer know you called.”
Not much had changed since we recorded that greeting. I had no intentions of calling anyone back.
“Summer, it’s your aunt Jackie. Jada and Joseph are worried sick about you, baby. Give us a call. We’re sorry about Ray. But, understand he’s not suffering anymore. He’s in a much better place,” my father’s sister-in-law breathed on the line.
Her husband, my father’s brother, lost his battle with cancer eight years ago.
“Please call us back!” Jada yelled in the background.
“Or we’re coming to Roosevelt!” Joseph threatened.
I rolled over as their voices cut out, sinking deeper into the cushion of the chair my father softened each day.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzt.
I watched my cell vibrate nonstop. Ada called every day, religiously.
Although her calls went unanswered, my long distance best friend knew my heart.
She had to. That’s why she called every day to let me know she was thinking of me.
She didn’t need me to answer. She needed me to know she was ready to talk when I was and that she was there. Always would be.
We didn’t talk every day or even every other day. Sometimes, we went a month or two without talking because we both had our own lives. However, we talked for hours catching up whenever we did get on the line. We didn’t operate in dependency in our friendship. That’s what I loved about us.
I love you, too. I thought, closing my eyes for the night.
I’d been in this nightmare for far too long. I was ready to wake up and rediscover my ability to talk. Walk. Smile. Laugh. Cry.
I’d soaked my pillow too many hours in a row. I had no tears left to cry. I’d run out.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzt.
It wasn’t Ada this time. It was him. Without looking at the phone, I could feel him.
Sense him. My heart knew him. There was no escaping him.
I’d been miserable without him for the last week.
I didn’t want to be without him anymore, but I didn’t know how to be with him at the moment, either.
I didn’t have the capacity for anything.
Not even myself. Not even my own skin. Hair. Nails. Thoughts.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzt.
Bzzzt.
As the vibrations ended, the gruelingly beautiful sounds of a saxophone began to claw at my heartstrings. I closed my eyes, wishing it would disappear. Nothing was pretty about my circumstances. Nothing was beautiful about the state I was in.
I had located my mother and she was playing the perfect stepmother to the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life and have pretty brown babies with. To pile onto that pile of shit, my father, the one person who understood my head when it came to all of that, died in our home. I’d found him.
Life is so shitty right now.
But, still, Saul played his heart out. Note after note. He played.
So well.
So elegantly.
So beautifully.
So tragically.
I squeezed my lids tighter and dug my body deeper into my mattress. Sleep came easy knowing someone who loved me was still on this side of earth and was still choosing me even when I couldn’t choose myself.
I stared at the wreckage on the back porch. For the first time in two weeks, I was able to clean my body, shampoo my hair, put on something other than a big shirt, and cook something from the fridge.
My God.
I braced myself with a deep breath before diving into cleaning.
The space was the closest to my safehaven at the moment.
I was ready to escape my reality in the pages of a new novel.
The one I was reading before my father’s death had been shelved.
It was too painful to continue. I’d revisit it when I was better.
Maybe.
I started with the pillows, pushing them all to the side. Next, I removed the linens. I swept the entire porch after. Then, I rearranged every piece of furniture and put it all in places that better served my vision. I recovered the cushions with fresh linen and replaced the pillows.
I rummaged through my bedroom to find my favorite spray.
The one that quieted the chaos. The one that reminded me of better times.
The one that put my worries to rest. The one I sprayed on my sheets faithfully when struggling with the burdens of a motherless child.
The one that made me feel better. Always.
There.
Autumn’s Eve was a nickname my father gave me as a kid. It was a mouthful. As his sickness progressed, he decided to stick with his favorite, Sums. It was short, sweet, and straight to the point.
I cradled the glass bottle in my hand, remembering when my father and I attended the class for his birthday two years ago. He’d made my fragrance and I’d made his.
Summer Nights was the name of his linen spray and he used it every summer night before bed. His bottle was empty by the third week of summer this year. My intention was to revisit the hobby shop and remake it, but I never got around to it.
Maybe next week. I promised.
I spritzed the linen, leaving a healthy layer of spray on the sheet as I started the ceiling fan. It was nippy out. November was in full swing and it had brought about a chill. I piled extra blankets on top of the cushion and got comfortable underneath the many layers.