“I-I understand,” I stammer.
“You understand… what, Demetria?” The direction is clear in her firm tone. I know what she’s looking for. “Try again.”
“I understand, Ma’am.” The threatening tears give way to run down my cheeks.
She presses a chaste kiss against my lips while swiping the teardrops from my face with her thumbs. “There’s my good fucking girl. Now, let’s enjoy the rest of our day, like our man suggested, yeah?”
49
Hayes
The past twenty-four hours have been… not ideal, to say the least. We spent the rest of yesterday afternoon and evening at the park, perusing the various art exhibits and vendor tents. It started as a day for fun and some level of normalcy and ended with us all wandering in near silence, yet somehow Demi managed to fill the remaining space in the backseat with the crafts she bought. A pattern to sew… something, a jar of sourdough starter that she has no idea what to do with but Raegan assured her that her sister would help with that part, some paint and a canvas and I swear there are at least a dozen other things. I’m not sure she knows what to do with any of it, but I was assured my little pixie is a creative talent like no other.I can’t wait to see it unfold.
It wasn’t until Raegan told us about the letter she received regarding her unethical behavior with Demi, that the mood shifted. No matter how much we all wanted the rest of the day to be normal, I’m not sure there’s anything we could’ve done to stop it. Both of their emotions were written all over their beautiful faces. Demi couldn’t stop blaming herself and Raegan couldn’t stop worrying about Demi. Me? I was worried about them both.
I meant what I said about getting through it together, though. I want to help them navigate it as best I can, which is why I bought us all plane ticketsto Kansas City for Tuesday morning. It’s also why they’re both here with me now–standing on the wrong side of the diner door–although it's much easier to be the one on the outside being let in the inner circle, than the other way around. My instinct told me to shut them out so I could do it alone, but I fought it. I’m still fighting it.
My phone buzzes in my back pocket and I pull it out to see a text from my best friend.
RYKER:Whatever it is, you can handle it. Don’t forget… your real family is behind you.
ME:I don’t know, man. What if I’m better off not knowing?
RYKER:Somehow, I doubt that’s a thing. And I think you know you need to do this… so you can close the book and start a new one with both of your girls. Not a chapter. A whole ass book.
He’s fucking right. He’s always right. I seem to remember being the one offering him advice with Arabella not that long ago and here he is being the smart one all of a sudden. But this is what we always do. He’s been there through almost every moment of pain and suffering my father put me through and he always sees it so much more clearly than I do.
I text him goodbye and stuff the phone back in my pocket, then take Demi and Raegan’s hands in mine. “Ready?” they ask in unison.
I nod and pull the door open until I hear the familiar ding of the bell hanging atop the frame.
Dolores is behind the counter, filling coffee cups and making light conversation with each person she pours for. Her movement is effortless. It’s clear she’s been doing this for a long time. It helps that she’s sweet as pie.
“Hayes,” she exclaims, smiling as she rounds the end of the counter while wiping her hands on a small towel. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually be back.”
Raegan steps up beside me. “Um, we kind of forced his hand. He’s too stubborn to admit he needs this. Whateverthisis.”
“I’m not surprised. He’s a lot like his mom.” Delores reaches into her apron, pulling out a flat book with something sticking out from the top. She unfolds the leather book and my heart is suddenly hammering against my ribcage, my pulse racing through every vein with the anticipation of what I’m about to find out.Why am I so nervous?
Demi and Raegan’s hands slide, in unison, up and down my back. “We’re right here,” Demi states softly and I can’t deny it helps… a little.
Dolores extends her hand to me, a slightly aged and wrinkled envelope pinched between her fingers. “Your mom wrote this before she died. She didn’t trust your father with it, so she asked me to hold onto it. I wasn’t sure when I was supposed to give it to you, but she insisted I’d know when it was time. When I heard you yesterday… talking about your father, I knew it was time.”
What the actual fuck?
“You’ve had this all this time?” Raegan asks, calmly but I know she’s assessing the validity of poor Dolores’ story.
I take the envelope, eyes locked on the front, letting it stare back at me–unmoving–from my hands like it’s carrying top secret military launch codes and I’m about to know something I shouldn’t. It’s just my name, in perfect cursive.
“It’s fine, Angel,” I assure her. “I’m okay.”I have no idea if I’m actually okay.
“The breakroom is empty if you want to use it. You can take all the time you need,” Dolores offers.
My eyes tear from the letter and move back to my mother’s friend. “Thank you. I think I need some air.”
“Of course, dear. Whatever you need.”
“Do you want us to come with you?” Demi questions, her hand pausing at the small of my back. “No pressure.”
