Desperately Seeking Epic(98)

I smile sadly. Taking her tiny, frail hand in mine, I lace our fingers together. Her skin is cool against mine. “Will you tell me what you see?”

She smiles. “Okay. Close your eyes.”

I do as she says and she shimmies closer, resting her head against my shoulder. “I see a beach with sand that’s almost white. It feels soft under my feet. The water is blue, but you can see to bottom of the ocean it’s so clear. I want there to be color. Maybe the sky will have that glow just after sunset, ya know, when it’s orange and red.”

My eyes are still closed but I smile. I know exactly what she means. “That’s perfect, princess.”

“Mom would be there. And she’d be laughing. Like really laughing. Her hair would be blowing in the breeze and she’d take my hand and point up to the sky at you.”

“Me?” I question.

She huffs a tired laugh. “You would have just dived out of a plane and you’d be drifting toward us, your chute open. When you land, you’d walk toward us, smiling. You’d kiss mom and she’d grin.”

“That sounds amazing, Neena,” I admit, my voice becoming husky with emotion. And I grip her hand tighter. “What else?”

She sighs. “I’d have hair again. Long hair. I wouldn’t be so tired. And I’d look healthy and happy. Marcus and Mei-ling would be there, too.” She lets out a small giggle. “Marcus would let me bury him in the sand like he did when I was little.”

I chuckle. “I’m sure he would.”

“That’s my heaven.”

Squeezing her hand, I turn my head and kiss her temple. “That’s where I’ll see you, Neena,” I manage. “On that beach, with an orange-red sky and blue water.”

“And I’ll have hair,” she reminds me.

“Yes,” I agree.

“And boobs,” she adds.

I nearly choke with her words. “I’m not sure I want to imagine you with those.”

“I don’t want to look like I’m twelve for all eternity, Dad,” she comments dryly.

“How about I imagine you matured?” I offer. “Let’s not focus on any particular body parts.”

“That’s fair.”

A few minutes later, her breathing slows as she drifts off to sleep, her head resting against me and try as I may, I can’t stop the tear that trickles down my cheek.





Ashley, Zane, and Mills have just left. Marcus, Paul, and I walked them out, said our good-byes, and hugged them for their hard work. The tape was beautiful. They made two, one that gave a brief summary of our story that they intend to share with the public, and one just for us.

Hearing Paul tell his side of the story was hard, but it was an eye-opening experience as well. Some parts made me tear up, others made me laugh. Neena couldn’t look away. She was absorbing every detail. As the kids left, we promised to call if we needed anything. Neena requested this be the last time they visit before she passes. She didn’t want them to remember her at her worst.

Ashley, normally hard as stone, was weeping. Saying good-bye to Neena was hard for her, maybe harder than she imagined it would be. As for Mills, when he said good-bye, he held Neena’s hand, bent down, and whispered something in her ear, before kissing her cheek. He’s a sweet kid. Zane was chewing on his nails and squeezed her hand and gave a casual good-bye. I could tell he just didn’t know what to say. What can you really say in these situations?

Marcus goes back inside as Paul and I watch their van drive off. The day is warm; summer is on its way. The dogwood in my front yard is starting to bloom. I planted that tree the year Neena was born. It’s on the verge of blossoming again this year, coming to life and sharing its color, while our daughter is wilting before our very eyes. My gaze moves to Paul’s and he gives me a sideways smirk. “I’m sorry I left you the way I did. I’m sorry I left you at all. And even though you’re mad at me right now, I’m not leaving you this time, Clara. I swear it.”

I know being angry with him is unfair. He didn’t mean for that night at the concert to end the way it did. Stepping toward him, I let my head thump against his chest. “I don’t think I can do this, Paul. I don’t know how to let her go.”

His hands rub my back as his chin rests on my head. “I wish we had a choice in that, Clara.”

The front door opens, and Marcus steps outside, sniffling, his little fingers wiping under his eyes.

“You okay?”

He shakes his head no. “When we first found out Paul wasn’t a match, and we knew we had limited time, Neena told me not to say good-bye to her.” He sucks in a ragged breath. “I asked her when she thought it was almost time, to give me a day with her. One last day to hang.” His glazed eyes look up to mine. “She asked me for that day. Tomorrow.”