“For what?”
He turned to me, and his eyes were the only part of his face that still belonged to the man I grew up with.
“For God to take me home to her. That’s what I’m waiting for, Julian. It’s the only thing I want.”
I couldn’t speak. He sat with me a few minutes more. Then he stood, slowly, like a man whose body hurt him. “Come here, son.”
I went. He held me the way he used to when I was a kid. One hand flat against the back of my head, and I let him, because I had not been held by anyone in over four years. I was the one who did the holding now, and some part of me that’d shut down came up out of the dark and shook. I stood in my father’s arms and did not cry, because I had forgotten how. But everything under my ribs did.
“I’m proud of you,” he said into the top of my head. “The man you’ve become. The man I couldn’t be.” His hand tightened. “Your mama knew. Before she went. We used to say it to each other:Julian’s going to be the one.And you are. I’m proud of you, son.”
His words sank in me like proof the room had been warm the whole time I was locked out of it. He let go of me, then he stepped back.
“Go home, Julian. Take care of yourself. And don’t come back here. Don’t.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
He went back inside and the door closed quiet behind him. The guitar didn’t start again.
I walked to the car, got in, started the engine, and drove. I made it about eight miles before I had to pull over. I sat in a gravel turnout above the lake with my forehead on the wheel, taking deep breaths, trying to hold it together. After a while I sat up, and drove home.
I’d gone there with hope. For four years I’d made a level of peace with it. Then I’d let myself think that I could change it. That I could drive up here and bring my father home.
Now I was driving back down that mountain with more than I went there with. I’d traded a loss I’d made livable for one that was fresh and specific and I was going to have to learn how to live with it all over again.
I decided then that neither Zion, Tre, nor Simone would ever make this drive. I would not set them up to carry what I was holding. Hope on the ride up; worse than before on the ride down.
Reggie called two days later. Patterson, Yale Law. Eventually worked out a plea deal that ended with zero jail time for Zion.
I never told them I’d gone. I never told them our father was never coming home.
And I never went back.
41/
i've got you
alyssa
The subject line was harmless.
Family is important.
I had my thumb over delete before I read the sender, already filing it with the estate-planning spam and the DNA-kit ads. Then the name loaded under the subject and my thumb stopped moving.Rebecca Marsh.
The mistress who lived while her lover, my husband, didn’t.
I opened it, telling myself later that I shouldn’t have, but the truth is there was never a version of me that left it sitting in my inbox unread.
Dear Alyssa,
I know this is coming out of nowhere. I know I’m the last person you want to hear from. I started this email a hundred times over the years and never sent it, because for a while I wasn’t sure, and I didn’t want to put something on you that might not be true. But she has his eyes. She’s had them since the day she was born and there’s no pretending otherwise anymore. Her name is Lily. She’s five. Malik was her father.
She and Micah are half brother and sister. I don’t want anything from you. I just think, someday, they might want to know each other. Children shouldn’t have to carry what the adults did.
I’ve attached a picture.
There was a photo clipped to the bottom, a little gray thumbnail with a download arrow. I did not touch it.
