I nodded "My father is dying."
He shook his head, "They will miss you, at the house."
I smiled, knowing he meant he would miss me too. "I'll miss you too."
He scoffed, "Not me, the house. Rita, she likes you a lot. She never likes anyone."
"I know. I'll miss this place a lot. It's been an amazing spring."
"The summer will be hot and the grapes will be sweet. It will be a good year."
I frowned, "How do you know that?"
"Lots of rain in the spring means lots of sun in the summer. Hot spring means rainy summer and the grapes are not as sweet. We will have a good year."
He drove into the small airport and stopped at the private jet. "Thank you for the ride. Tell everyone I said goodbye." I got out. He got out too and passed me my bags. When I took them, he wrapped his arms around me once, hugged tightly and then turned and left without saying another thing.
Muriel walked off the jet, "Well, look what the cat dragged in."
I sighed and climbed aboard.
Wednesday
The hospital smelled funny. I hadn’t been there since my bachelorette party, but it made me feel gross and sad. That party had been the beginning of the end in many ways.
I had come directly to the hospital from the airport, fighting Muriel on it the entire drive over. She felt I should have showered and changed and looked the part, but I liked the new me. I was strong by myself.
I stopped at the nurses’ station, "Hi. I'm looking for my dad, Peter Croix."
Her eyes were panicked for a second. She shook her head, "I am so sorry. He passed about two hours ago. He's still in his room if you want to go and say goodbye. To the right, room 708."
My heart stopped beating. I turned and ran. My mother and Brandi were standing outside of the room. I dropped my bags, ignoring them and walked into the room. He was still on the bed.
I had nothing. A vast emptiness. Seeing him made me want the little blue pills and a dark room to hide my shame. I hadn't made it. He died, thinking I hated him but I didn’t, not anymore.
Silent tears fell, blurring my vision. I walked to his bedside, placing my hand over his cool one. He was gone.
I lowered my face, scanning it over his. He looked the same, like Victor from The Young and the Restless. He hadn’t aged a minute since I'd gone. There was, at long last, peace on his face. I lowered my face to the blankets on his chest and searched my brain for a happy memory.
The best I had was when I was nine and he took me Christmas shopping for my mother. His assistant had gotten sick and was unable to buy the gift, so he brought me. We walked the shops. I tried to hold his hand but he shook mine off, complaining it was sticky. I was scared of all the people on the streets, but still he would not hold my hand, so I clung to his jacket. He wasn’t aware I had gripped to him for dear life. He had never been aware of the times I had reached out for him and he hadn’t been there.
Only one person had.
I sat up and whispered, "Goodbye, Dad. I'm sorry I was such a disappointment and I'm sorry I never made it back."
My mother came into the room, I could hear her sniffles. They bothered me. I hated that she was sad. Neither of them had ever loved each other or us. There was no love in the hollowed halls of our mansions and vacation homes.
"He hoped you would come home."
I looked back at her, "He did?"
She nodded, "He knew he was wrong to cut you out. He knew in the end."
I shook my head, "I should have called, at least once."
She wiped her face, "You came. That’s what matters."
Why was she being so sweet to me?
Brandi came rushing in, wrapping herself around me. Her baby bump was huge. She sobbed into my shoulder and I hers. Our mother, completely unaware how to cope with emotions, straightened the blankets on our dead father and muttered, "The funeral will be in three days. Where are you staying? Will you stay at home?"
I almost said no, but I knew she would need the help. Brandi was useless and she was worse.
"Sure. If that’s alright with you?"
She nodded, "It would be nice to see you again."
I felt venomous things floating about in my brain. Things like the only reason it was nice to see me was because my dad was dead and she was allowed to see me. I held them back.
The nurse came in, "I'm sorry to interrupt but we have to move him."
My mother looked at me, "Will you go ahead to the house and get Brandi settled in?"
I didn’t know what she meant, but I nodded as I grabbed my bags and led my sister from the room to the desk.
"Brandi, do you have a car here?"
She shook her head.
I leaned into the nurses’ station window, "Can you call us a cab, please? Meet out front in ten minutes?"
She gave me a look like she might tell me to go screw myself, but then she looked at Brandi and nodded.
We walked to the elevators.
"How was he in the end?"
Brandi shook her head, "Bad. He was mean and cruel to her. He wouldn’t let me come and see him; forbid you and I both entry to the hospital room. Two days ago he fell into a coma. I phoned Muriel and told her she needed to find you. I've been in the room with Mom ever since."
I sighed and walked into the elevator.
The cab ride was silent. I assumed it was our loss and grief, but when we got closer she finally spilled. "Shawn left me."
I glanced at her, "He found out about Will?"
She nodded.
"Are you going to be with Will?"
She started to cry harder, "No. He won't be with me."
I almost laughed at her and told her it was because he was a nice guy. Instead, I wrapped my arm around her and kissed her head.
The old house looked bigger than I recalled it being. It was stately and ridiculous, but it had always suited them perfectly. The vacation houses had always been more my speed.
Seeing the luxury filled my mind with memories. My shoes, clothes, and handbags had all gone there to die. All those things I had placed so much value and love in, that now seemed silly. My father was dead and my mother would want to rekindle our relationship. I could and she would pay for the vineyard I wanted, out of guilt, but that didn’t feel like me working for it. It just felt like l was moving back into my old house to be my old self.
I hated that girl.
I looked down at my boots and shorts and smiled. I could still be the girl in the vineyard in New York. I loved that girl, even if I was freezing in New York.
We got inside and switched on all the lights.
I looked around, "Where is the staff?"
Brandi scoffed, "He got so paranoid in the last three months, he fired everyone except old Les. Poor man was waiting on them both, hand and foot, and doing all the driving."
I winced, "Good God."
The house was huge and dark. It reminded me of a haunted house.
I climbed the grand stairs to my room. When I opened it, I was stunned. It was exactly the same as it was the last time I had seen it.
Brandi leaned in the doorway with me and sighed, "She wouldn’t let him touch it. She threatened to burn the fucking house down—is how she put it. Your clothes and shoes are all put away, stored lovingly. She doesn’t know how to love us, but I think in her way, that was an attempt."
Tears filled my eyes. It was like a hug from her cold, stiff arms. Arms that would never wrap around me, were cradling me in her special way.
I turned and hugged my sister, letting it all hit. My shoes hadn’t burned. My clothes were still there. My mother had taken care of my things. And my father had died and never loved me once. I didn’t know how to meld the feelings of grief over his death with the love my mother secretly snuck me. Or the joy I felt over finding myself in Greece and Italy, and yet, finding myself there in that room with my things. I didn’t know how to be all those things at once.
Brandi patted my back and nodded, "Night."
I wiped my tears, "Night."
She looked at me with a grin, "It's good to have you back."
I closed the door and dragged myself to my shower. My shampoo and conditioner were in the cupboards. My makeup was there. Even a new toothbrush had been placed in the holder in the cupboard.
I cleaned, shaved, and scrubbed until I felt human again and heaved my naked body to my closet. Inside, with the light on, it sparkled with possibility. I touched everything. Boots, sandals, wedges, Gucci, Chanel, Louboutin and Choo. They were all there. I dragged my fingers through my dresses and stopped when I saw something impossible.
I closed my eyes and opened them to see it still there.
My Chanel dress had somehow made it back into my closet. The last time I'd seen it was in the back of Mike's car. I pulled it down and slipped it over my head. I ran my fingers along the petals and smiled. Lucky dress maybe?
I turned and left the huge closet and climbed into my bed. It all smelled the same. It felt the same.
My eyes grew heavy, but I heard something. I looked up as Mike climbed through my window like we were nineteen again.
I frowned, "Are you really here?"
He kicked off his shoes and climbed into my bed, "Jack, I'm so sorry about your old man." He wrapped himself around me.
I closed my eyes and let myself dissolve into the puddle I needed to be.
Only he could make it okay for me to feel all of those things at once and not need a blue pill.
He kissed my head, "Just get it out. I'm here now. It's okay, baby."
I clung to him, feeling the whole world land on me, squishing me in a bad way. I pulled my dress off, careful not to ruin any petals and tossed it to the chair next to the bedside table. I turned back into him, pulling him into me, "I want you."
His eyes were glistening in the dark, "Not tonight, Jack. Tonight I'll just hold you, keep you safe."
He had no idea the depth those words had for me. I nodded and just let the tears fall until I finally fell asleep.
Thursday
Friday
Saturday Morning