Daniel Bradbury
1953-2025
That was what my siblings and I had agreed on as a family. My brothers, Rhodes and Raylan, had argued that we shouldn’t even give him that. But my oldest sister, Gypsy, the woman who had been responsible for raising all of us, couldn’t bring herself to leave him to the county to be cremated and dumped wherever they saw fit.
Even if that was all he’d deserved from us.
Her heart was too good, despite having come from two of the most heartless people on the planet. All the good in me and my siblings was solely due to her.
When she let us know what she intended to do, we’d all insisted on splitting the cost. There was no way in hell we weregoing to let her bury the man who was our father due to biology alone by herself. But we put our foot down when she started talking about a funeral. As far as any of us were concerned, he hadn’t done a single thing in his life to earn us honoring him in death. It had been a random Tuesday, one I hadn’t even bothered to take off work, when Danny Bradbury had been laid to rest without a single person, aside from the grounds workers, to stand by and watch as the cheapest casket the funeral home had in stock was lowered into a hole in the ground.
While the headstones all around his were adorned with flowers and other keepsakes, Danny’s had nothing. I wasn’t surprised. I didn’t think any of my brothers or sisters had been out here since we picked the spot. This was certainly a first for me. And if I had any say in the matter, it was also the last.
I didn’t know what I expected to feel as I stared at my father’s headstone, my eyes tracing over each letter and number. I wasn’t here out of obligation as his daughter. I wasn’t here because I missed him. After all, how could you miss a person you didn’t know. I was only a toddler when he and our mother, Peggy, had taken off, and even when they were there, they didn’t do much rearing. They popped out kids then left their oldest to raise them. Gypsy had taken responsibility for us from the moment we came into this world. She cleaned our scrapes and held us if we woke up from a nightmare. She packed our lunches and read us bedtime stories every night.
I never felt like I was missing anything by not having a mother around, because my oldest sister was all the mother I could possibly need. And when her husband Marco came into the picture, he slotted right into the role of father.
So, no. I didn’t miss Danny Bradbury. Not one bit. But I couldn’t shake the sadness I felt at the thought of how he died. I might not have liked the man—in fact, I didn’t feel much ofanything for him—but he’d died alone. No one to worry or care or hold him if he was scared. And that was just... sad.
I guess the feeling that had been plaguing me ever since Gypsy called a family meeting to tell us what had happened all those months ago was pity. It was pity that pulled me out here on a cold, dreary day when I would have loved nothing more than to stay inside, curled up with a book.
I inhaled deeply, pulling the cold air into my lungs until it caused them to burn before blowing it out on a cleansing exhale.
“I feel like I should talk instead of just standing here, but I don’t know what to say,” I admitted to the lifeless piece of stone. “I don’t miss you. You won’t get that from me. You won’t get that from any of us.”
I thought back to what Raylan had told us shortly after we laid our father to rest. To the memory he’d held onto for years all by himself. How he’d run into our father out of the blue, and how his last words to him had been heartless and cruel, leaving my brother to think the worst of himself. He knew better now. He’d shaken that darkness off, thanks to the help of his girlfriend and my best friend, Lennix Paulson. But after hearing that, I knew without a shadow of a doubt the words I’d just spoken to Danny were true.
“I guess... I guess I’m just sorry you were all alone when you died. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Even you. My hope for you was that it was fast, that you felt no fear, because I wouldn’t want something like that on my worst enemy.”
The fist that felt like it had been clutching my chest for the past few months finally began to loosen as I let the words out, so I kept going, saying the last words I ever intended to say to Danny Bradbury before I moved on with my life for good. “I hope you’ve found whatever peace you lacked in life that made you such an unhappy person.”
With those last words, I finally felt some of the peaceI’dbeen lacking lately fall into place. I hadn’t forgiven or forgotten, but I had gotten some form of closure with this visit, and that was enough for me.
I felt lighter as I headed back to my car, ready to put this whole morning behind me. I’d just started the engine when my cellphone chirped from where I’d kept it stashed in the cupholder while I’d been out in the cemetery.
I picked it up, my stomach plummeting to the ground as I scanned the text that had come in a few minutes earlier. The number came up as unknown, but that was only because I hadn’t saved it in my contacts. I’d refused. But I knew all too well who it was from.
Unknown Caller:
You can’t ignore me forever.
Like hell I couldn’t. An indelicate snort rattled up my throat as I tossed the phone back into the cupholder without bothering to respond. In the back of my mind, I knew I should have blocked her number a long time ago, but there was a reason I couldn’t. However, that didn’t mean I had to feed into her bullshit. And that was the last thing I intended to do, at least for now. My morning had been gloomy enough. I was determined to find the sunshine.
The bellabove the door chimed, soft and beautiful. I looked over from the customer I was helping and smiled as my oldest sister stepped inside.
“Hey,” I greeted with a big smile. “Give me just a second.”
Gypsy gave me a nod and headed deeper into the store.
I finished ringing up my customer, sliding her books into a bag with my store’s logo on the front, and passed it over to her with a smile. “Hope you enjoy it. Let me know what you think of that thriller.”
The middle-aged woman grinned, hugging her new purchases to her chest. “Oh, I certainly will.”
I would never get tired of hearing that, or seeing the excitement in people’s faces whenever they stumbled onto a book that called to them. I’d opened my little independent bookstore, One More Chapter, because I loved to read. Love might not have been a strong enough word. I’d had my nose stuffed in a book ever since I was old enough to read. In fact, the name came from how many times I’d pled with Gypsy to just let me read one more chapter before I had to go to bed.
It took me a while to figure out what I wanted to do with my life and how I could incorporate my love of books into it, but now that I’d opened my shop, I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.
It really was true, what people said. I loved my job and my bookstore so much, it never felt like work. The familiar smells of the books made my chest feel lighter. The rows and rows of shelves that filled the space surrounded me like a welcoming hug.
