Edward’s eyes fluttered closed. He took a few rattling breaths, then came awake with a start and shouted, “Anita!”
“She’s just outside, Daddy. You said you wanted to talk to me.”
“Ah … yes.” He calmed down. Very slowly, he lifted his hand and touched her hand. “When I saw that movie, Forrest Gump, all I could think about was my little sugar beet. We were peas and carrots, weren’t we?”
She squeezed her eyes shut, then slowly opened them. “Yes.”
“I didn’t handle things well. I surely didn’t.”
Elizabeth didn’t know what he was talking about. Before she could ask, he went on:
“Anita. Marguerite. I shoulda done it differently, God knows. But your mama near killed me … I swear, I don’t know what I should have told you.”
“What are you talking about, Daddy?”
“I thought it best you didn’t know, that’s all. To protect you. Memories … they’re important sometimes, more important than the truth. But Anita paid the price. We all did.”
“Daddy—”
He started coughing hard, gasping.
“Sshh, Daddy,” she said. “There’s plenty of time for talking. You just rest now.”
“You’re the best part o’ me, Birdie. You always were. From the moment your mama put you in my arms, I knew. I fell in love with you so hard I practically cracked my head. I reckon I should have told you more often.”
“You told me all the time, Daddy.”
He tried to come forward off the pillows, to sit up. It was heartbreaking to see his failure. With a sigh, he sank back down. “I need you to do somethin’ for me, Birdie. It won’t be easy for you.”
“Anything, Daddy. You know that.”
“You take care of Anita. You hear me?”
“Don’t say that,” she said, hearing the sudden desperation in her voice. “You’ll be around to take care of her.”
“Don’t sass me. This is important.” His breathing became shallow, labored. “Promise me you’ll take care of her.”
“Okay.” Elizabeth leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I love you, Daddy.”
He looked at her, but his eyes were glassy now, unfocused. As if he’d spent all his energy and had nothing left. “That love’ll carry me through the Pearly Gates, sugar beet, it surely will. Now, ask Anita to come in here.”
“No … please.”
“It’s time, Birdie. Now go get your mama.”
Elizabeth stood there a minute, unable to leave him.
“Go on,” he said gently.
She forced herself to move. At the door, she gave him a last smile, then left the room. “He wants you,” she said to Anita.
Her stepmother made a sound that was half sigh, half sob, and hurried into the room, closing the door behind her.
At the window, Elizabeth stood close to the glass, on the outside of their love, looking in. She prayed hard. Be strong, Daddy. Be strong.
An alarm on one of the machines went off.
Anita stumbled back from the bed, screaming, “Help us, help us!”
Elizabeth jerked to open the door, but nurses and doctors rushed past her, filled the tiny room, pushed Anita out of the way. People clustered around her father. The noise turned into a dull roar in Elizabeth’s ears. She pressed the glass, hard. “Don’t you die, Daddy. Don’t you dare …”
Phillip raced into the room, elbowed his way to her father’s side. He reached for the heart paddles.
Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut. She couldn’t breathe. Her own heart kept skipping beats, unreliable now that her father’s had stopped. Please, God, please don’t take him. Not yet …
When she opened her eyes, the doctors and nurses were standing still; the machines were cold and black. Anita was sitting by Daddy, her cries had dwindled down to soundless gasps and occasional shudders. The makeup on her face had been washed away in streaks.
Anita looked through the glass at Elizabeth. “He’s gone,” she mouthed helplessly. The words made her start to cry again. This time, her sobbing was a shrunken, heart-wrenching sound.
Slowly, Elizabeth walked into the room, went up to his bed. She pressed a hand to Anita’s frail shoulder, clutching hard, though she’d only meant to squeeze reassuringly.
Daddy lay there, his eyes closed, his great barrel chest sunken and still. “Hey, Daddy,” she whispered. It was a split second before she realized that she’d expected an answer. But, of course, there wasn’t one.
His heart—the one that had loved her so well—had finally given up.
THIRTEEN
Elizabeth pointed to an empty stall in the airport’s underground parking lot. Jack turned the car into it and parked.
She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. She’d been careful all the way here. No radio (the last thing she needed was to hear a sad song), no runaway thoughts, no memories. She kept her eyes on the road and her mind on the funeral. Arrangements, she could deal with. Emotions, she couldn’t.
She got out of the car—
(Daddy’s car, but don’t think about that.)