“Mommy, watch me on the swings!” I saw London’s little girl come out of the house, skipping past Paris.
“Okay, honey. I see you,” London replied, trailing behind the little girl as she hopped on the swing set. London stood there for a minute, watching her, then made her way over to me.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey yourself,” I replied. “What’s your little girl’s name? She’s cute.”
“This one is Mariah. The other one is Maria,” she told me.
I laughed. “You always said you were going to have a little girl one day, and here you have two.”
There was a moment of awkward silence and tension between us. Thankfully, Mariah’s little voice cut through. “Mommy, you see me?”
“I’m watching, baby,” London shouted over to her. She stood there and stared at Mariah for a moment, but I knew she was only doing so to keep from looking at me.
I almost thought our conversation was over, but then, with her back still to me, she said, “You know, I was really broken up when I heard . . . when I thought that you had died. I can’t remember the last time I cried that hard.” She finally turned to look at me. “I’m glad you’re alive.”
“I appreciate that.”
Again an awkward silence fell. There was so much unsaid between us, but maybe enough time had passed that we should just leave it all as water under the bridge.
“So, how’s married life?” I asked in an attempt to steer the conversation to safer subjects.
“Um, it has its ups and downs, but for the most part it’s good.” She shrugged. Not exactly a glowing endorsement. “I heard Vegas tell Mommy you were married.”
“I was. My wife passed away a few days ago. Cancer.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Daryl. I’m so sorry to hear that. Are you all right? You must be torn apart.”
“I am. But it’s good to be around you guys. I don’t think I could do this alone.”
“I can imagine. For you to have gotten married, she must have been something really special.” There was so much unspoken meaning behind her words, but I sensed genuine sympathy for my loss.
“She was very special,” I answered.
She looked as though something was on the tip of her tongue, but it took her a while to speak up. Finally, she said, “Can I ask you something? And if it’s inappropriate, just say so and I’ll shut my mouth and walk away.”
“Sure.”
“You don’t, like, hate me for marrying Harris or anything, do you?”
“Nah, I’m over it,” I said. I knew she would get around to that eventually. “I waited four hours and then I got on the flight . . . without you. It wasn’t like I was gonna come back here and go to the wedding.”
Her expression told me she still felt guilty about that day. “You don’t understand,” she said.
“I didn’t then, but I do now,” I said. “You didn’t want to take the chance.”
“Daryl, I—”
I put my hand up to stop her. “It’s okay. That was a long time ago. You don’t have to explain. I know what it’s like to be in love with somebody.”
“But do you know how it feels to be in love with two people?”
We locked eyes for a minute, but neither of us spoke. Everything that happened between us was like a distant echo now, muffled by the current pain of losing my wife. I didn’t have the energy to rehash old hurts with London.
I think she sensed that I was done. Without a good-bye, she went over to the swing set. “Come on, Mariah. Time to go inside.”
“London,” I called out to her. She turned around. “I don’t blame you. If I were you, I would have chosen a lawyer over a thug too.”
Brother X
45