by T. Torrest
Alive.
My father had to be about the same age I was now, and yeah. We looked like we could be brothers. I’d never seen anyone that looked so much like me before.
There were a few pages of random photos from throughout their early life together, until... I turned the page... and there I was.
A chubby little fart sitting on a red shag rug, chewing on the plastic beak of a stuffed Big Bird.
A laughing baby maniac sitting in a high chair with spaghetti sauce smeared all over my face.
A smiling toddler kissing a German Shepherd.
A toothless pre-schooler laying in a pile of leaves... my mother and father lying at my side.
The sight of that first family photo is what did me in. I mean, seeing any one of those pictures could have affected me just as strongly—it was the biggest compilation of pictures I’d ever seen of myself—but seeing the three of us together? The happiness that I wanted to remember so badly but couldn’t?
It broke me.
“Handsome boy.”
My grandmother’s voice brought me back to the present, and I realized I was the one who’d forgotten she was there this time. “Yes, Grandma. He sure is.”
I swiped a tear from my eye and moved the album closer so we could both have a better view. Page after page, forgotten memory after forgotten memory. I’d never seen so many pictures of myself as a little kid. In one hour, I’d filled in more missing pieces about my life than Frederick ever had in all of the past sixteen years. Although, I guess he’d planned it that way.
Thing was, though, it’s not because he was trying to deceive me. I knew that now. The love I saw in that album was the same love Frederick had given to me all these years. The realization helped the last of my annoyance to disappear as I turned the pages, my entire world finally coming together.
The albums were a treasure trove. A revelation. A gift. I wanted to go through each and every picture all over again in all three books, gather up my history and cherish every detail of every captured moment.
I flipped back to the leaf picture and pulled it from the page. “Do you mind if I take this one with me? I’d like to make a copy. I’ll get the original back to you.”
“Oh, you’re leaving?”
“Just for now. But I promise I’ll be back.”
I stood and retied my scarf before leaning over and giving her a soft kiss on her parchment cheek. I had so many questions that I knew she wouldn’t be able to answer. I wanted to ask them anyway.
But my questions could wait. “Thank you for hanging out with me today, Grandma.”
“Did you bring cookies?”
I picked up the dish from the nightstand and held it out toward her. “Of course I did.” She promptly swiped one off the plate and took a bite as I asked, “Would you mind if I came back again tomorrow?”
Grandma turned her attention back toward the game show on her TV as she answered absently, “Oh sure, sure.”
I just smiled and said, “Sounds perfect.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
True to my word, I headed back out to Jersey the following day. Only this time, Mia came with me. I was excited for her to meet my grandmother, but I had an important stop to make first.
Christ Memorial Gardens was the cemetery listed in my parents’ obituary. I’d already done some research online to find out exactly where on the property they were located, so I navigated my car to the “Holy Spirit” section of the sprawling grounds.
I put the car in park and cut the engine, taking an extra minute to psych myself up for what I was about to do.
“Are you going to be okay?” Mia asked, cutting through the silence.
I turned to look at her, sitting there in her pretty blue dress, and gave her a pale smile. It was cute that she felt the need to get all dolled up to meet my family. “Yeah. I’m ready.” I reached over to grab her hand before adding, “You sure you don’t want to come with me?”
Mia and I had discussed the situation on the ride over. She was torn between wanting to be right by my side to support me and wanting to let me have a private moment with my parents. Staying in the car was our compromise.
She placed a hand at my jaw and said, “This is something you should do alone. I’ll be right here waiting for you when you get back.”
I kissed her hand and smiled into her warm chocolate eyes, grateful for every single thing about her.
I stepped out into the crisp, sunny day, and made my way up a rolling hill toward a huge oak tree, one of only a few dotted across the expansive, park-like landscape.
It took me a few minutes to locate the right spot. But then, a few paces from the tree, I found what I was looking for. My throat tightened at the sight of my parents’ names on a shiny, gray stone as a mixture of sadness and remorse sluiced through my chest. I placed the bouquet of flowers on the ground and crammed my hands in my pockets.
I didn’t quite know what to say.
Some birds passed overhead, so I looked up, took a breath, felt the sun on my face.
Squatted down, absently pulled some stray weeds away from the headstone.
Ran my fingers over the carved names, the dates.
Sat down on the cool grass and stretched my legs.
Drew one up and rested an arm over my knee.
Twirled a dandelion at the tips of my fingers.
“Mom.”
The word sounded foreign coming out of my mouth; I’d never called anyone Mom before. At least not that I could remember.
“Mom, Dad, I’m sorry it took so long to come see you. I’m sorry I can’t even remember you.”
I tossed the weed aside and sat up a bit straighter.
“I’m going to try, though. I’m going to keep up with my mind exercises, going to try and bring it all back. I never wanted to, you know. The accident. I never wanted to see it. But I’m not afraid anymore. It was worth it. If seeing it will help me to remember anything about you, then I’ll relive it every night if I have to.
“I saw something last night, Dad. You were teaching me to ride a bike. Mom was there, too. It was spring, I think. The bike was green. I could feel you right there with me, cheering me on. I felt safe. And proud. The thrill when you finally let go. The freedom of doing it on my own. The smile on Mom’s face.
“I know it wasn’t just a dream. I know it was real.”
I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair, absorbing the quiet, collecting my thoughts.
“Grandma’s fine, you should know. She’s being taken care of. I’m going back to see her again later this afternoon. Mia’s coming with me. Mia’s my girlfriend. If you’re watching over me, I guess you already know that. And if you have any power up there... Do me a favor and make sure I don’t screw this up, okay? She’s pretty fantastic. Frederick’s taking us out to dinner later so he can meet her. I wish you could meet her, too.
“Frederick’s been great. We’ve got some stuff to sort out, but you should know that he’s been an amazing father, gave me the best of everything, took care of me, loved me. I think you’d be happy to know that a guy like that stepped in for you. I think you would have chosen him if you could. Heck, maybe you did.
“It’s hard, learning how to forgive him. The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. He lied for all these years. He wanted me to forget you, and I did! But he’s my father. And I love him. And I know we’ll get past this. We have to. I know you would want me to.”
There was a stinging behind my eyes, but I held the tears at bay. Despite my resolve, my voice started to shake anyway. I couldn’t stop talking, though. I still had too much I needed to say.
“I’m so sorry that I’ve forgotten you. But it’s not like you’re completely lost to me. It’s not like you’re gone. Does that make sense?
“I can feel you. I could always feel you, all these years, even if I wasn’t aware that it was you. You’re the voice in my head. If my conscience has a voice, it was always yours, even if I didn’t know it. I hope you’re watch
ing over me. I hope I make you proud. I’m going to try every day to be a good man.”
The tears streamed down my face, so I swiped my eyes with my sleeve, took a deep breath, and pulled myself together.
I placed a palm on the grass and directed my next words toward the earth under my hand. “Thank you for my life.”
EPILOGUE
January
T he house was packed.
It seemed as if every person Mia had ever met in her life was here to celebrate her promotion. This was hardly the “little get together” she said it was going to be. Aunts, uncles, cousins, neighbors... Mrs. Cruz’s little cape was practically busting at the seams.
Mia’s mom went a little overboard on the food, but that was nothing new. I couldn’t remember a time in the past three months when Mrs. Cruz didn’t cook enough to feed an army.
Speaking of remembering... I’ve been keeping up with my mind exercises. Nothing revelatory to report, but every once in a while, a small piece of my past will come back to me. Any new vision was always a gift. And as bad as my grandmother’s memory was, sometimes she was able to confirm my stories with a convoluted history of her own.
My grandmother wasn’t well enough to make it to the party today, but Mia’s mom already put together a takeout container to bring with me to go to The Sunshine Center later.
And of course, she included a shit-ton of cookies.
A week didn’t go by when I wouldn’t stop in for a visit. Normally, Mia came with me. Even my father came a few times. I was amazed to see how great he was with her. He really had a knack for pulling the best conversations from her. It was how I learned things about my parents like how my father loved his job in the city and how my mother loved old movies.
I guess there’s something to be said for genetics.
Swan. Inc. is still going strong. I’ve recently added group therapy to my program, and so far, my clients have been responding fairly positively. I started going back to therapy myself. Obviously, I had lots to sort out.
Pop and I were able to find some common ground on the whole lying thing. We’d come to an understanding about why he did it, and I wasn’t angry about it anymore. It was too hard to stay pissed at him anyway. I mean, look at him. How could I stay mad at a guy who was currently chomping down spare ribs like he was going for a world record?
“Have you tried any of this food yet?” he asked, holding up his loaded plate. “Maribel must be a wizard.”
I chuckled and said, “Yeah, she’s a great cook. Try the tostones.” I’d been a New Yorker for most of my life—thereby having access to every type of food imaginable—but it was only through Mia’s family that I learned to fall in love with Puerto Rican cuisine. Last week, her mom made asopao, and it was the greatest thing I’d ever put in my mouth.
Second greatest.
I went over to Mia and put my arms around her, took a huge inhale against her hair, and said, “One helluva ‘little get together,’ Cruz.”
She smiled over her shoulder as she explained, “Puerto Ricans will use any excuse to throw a party.”
I’d learned that all too well over the past months. Mia’s family was huge, and they insisted on getting together on the regular. I was getting pretty good about remembering all the cousins’ names. Jared, however, only seemed interested in remembering one cousin’s name. He was currently getting a little too cozy with Estella over near the dessert table.
“Well, you deserve it, veep.”
Mia had officially gotten the Vice President job two weeks ago, and I couldn’t be more proud. She worked really hard for this promotion. She deserved it.
“Oh hey,” she said, smiling wickedly at me. “I forgot to tell you. Harry called me today.”
“Harry?” I asked, having no idea who she was talking about.
“From that TV station out in Brooklyn.”
Oh yeah, right. My brows tightened as I asked, “Why would he call you?”
“To let me know I got the weather girl job.”
We both broke into hysterical laughter at the news until I turned her in my arms and pulled her to me in a tight hug, snickering, “Too bad you had to decline. You looked damn cute in that rain hat.”
“Who says I declined?” she teased, before planting a kiss on my cheek.
Needless to say, I was kinda crazy about this woman. And hell, she was just as crazy about me. The real me, not my fake “stud” act. Fact is, true confidence comes from within. Even through all my bullshit swagger, I’d always actually known I was a one-woman kind of guy. I just hadn’t ever found any one woman I’d been willing to commit to.
Until now.
I swiped some hair behind her ear. “I got an interesting phone call today, too.”
“Oh you did, did you?”
“Yep.” I arched an eyebrow and said, “Paisley called this morning. I let it go to voicemail. Apparently, she and Blake are getting married.”
“No kidding?”
“Yeah. Next fall.”
Mia shot me an impressed smile as she nodded her head. “Good for her. That’s great!”
“It really is.”
She smoothed a hand up my chest, her face a mask of innocence to ask, “Does it totally mess with your anal-retentiveness that she never finished your course?”
I couldn’t help but snicker. “Attention to detail. And I’d like to remind you that you never completed your final task, either, wiseass.”
Her eyelids lowered as she grabbed my butt. “Because we’ve been too busy fucking all the time.”
I laughed in agreement before getting back to the subject at hand. “Well, your present kind of covers it. It isn’t happening until tomorrow, though.”
She pulled back to look at me. “Wait. My present is a ‘happening?’ I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”
“I’m invoking our trust rule, here.”
“Oh dios mio, I’m afraid to ask.”
My lips twitched as I tried to contain my smile. “We’ve got an appointment to go indoor rock climbing.” Her eyes went wide as I added, “Don’t worry. I’ve got you covered.” I pulled a rectangular box off the gift table and handed it over.
Mia eyed me skeptically as she unwrapped her present... a new pair of designer climbing shoes. Her face completely lit up at the sight of them. “I love you!”
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Even when I don’t buy you new kicks, right?”
“Of course.” Her face scrunched as she slipped a hand around my neck. “But maybe you should keep doing it just to be sure.”
What can I say? The woman loved her shoes.
* * *
We needed some air. Mia’s apartment was nothing more than a maze of boxes at this point, and we were both feeling a bit claustrophobic.
We were gearing up for our move to a much larger place—a row home on 40th Street with a view of the east river. I’d recently rented some office space right down the street from Manhattan Media, so the Murray Hill neighborhood was right near both of our jobs, mere steps to our bases of operations in Times Square. The latest plan was to live in the city during the week but spend the weekends at my father’s house out in Greenhaven. The old man still had separation anxiety, after all. But I didn’t mind. It was a small price to pay back for all that he’d done for me over the years.
We took a break from our packing and decided to go for a walk through Central Park. We earned it. Besides, it was a beautiful crisp winter afternoon, not the wind-tunnel freeze January usually was in the city. A few other humans were taking advantage of the unseasonably mild day—jogging, riding bikes, feeding the birds—and it was enough to dupe me into believing spring would be here sooner rather than later.
When we reached the big rock at the edge of Strawberry Fields, Mia pulled me to sit down with her so we could do some people-watching.
“Look at this guy,” she said almost immediately, nodding her head toward an old man harassing a squirrel.
“Yeah, what a welly beacho.”
/>
“We need to work on your accent.”
We chuckled as she planted a kiss on me, saying, “I need to show you something.”
I waggled my brows and asked, “Is this ‘something’ presently contained within this green coat?”
I slid my fingers up her thigh but she laughed as she shoved my hand away, chastising, “Yes but not there.”
She pulled a black notebook from her coat pocket and handed it to me. I recognized it right off; it was the journal I’d given her back in August, at the start of our eight weeks together.
My hands went up in defense. “No way. I can’t read this thing. It’s your innermost private thoughts.”
“I know. That’s why you need to read it.”
She flipped the book open to the first page and handed it over. I was still opposed, but couldn’t help but peek at what she had placed right in front of my eyes. It was kind of unavoidable to notice what she’d written:
Lucas Taggart is the hottest guy I’ve ever met in my life.
Well, I mean, if she really wanted me to read it, who was I to say no?
The entries in her journal ranged in tone from confused attraction to angry denial to willing capitulation. She’d logged every moment we’d spent together, every good, bad, and ugly thing that had happened between us.
It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
I was smiling like a total dork by the time I got to the end. As I turned the final page, a folded piece of paper fell out and landed at my feet. Mia picked it up and unfolded it onto my lap, a photocopied monologue from The Princess Bride with parts that had been highlighted in fluorescent yellow. I’d just started reading it when Mia shot me a wicked grin and stood up. Before I knew what was happening, she’d climbed onto the rock, cleared her throat, and started reciting the words from memory:
“I love you, and I know this must come as something of a surprise...”
Holy shit. She was really doing this.
“...since all I’ve ever done is scorn you and degrade you and taunt you, but I have loved you for several hours now, and every second, more.”
