The last hit.
Another promise he’d keep but to the men in leather this time.
“What’s the urgency?” Nikki asks. “I mean I get it, North Carolina isn’t a hop, skip and a jump away but you’re making it like once he gets on that bus we won’t be able to visit him anymore,” she continues.
“He’s being transferred but his visitation will be revoked shortly after he’s gotten his new number,” Anthony explains.
“Why would they do that? Has he done something to get his privileges taken away?” She asks as she looks back and forth between us.
“Your father’s connections will not hold any merit down south,” he answers vaguely.
“Anthony’s right, you need to go visit your father,” I whisper, clearing my throat in hope to find my voice. “I don’t know how the transfer will work but I’m sure you know what you’re talking about,” I say to him, before drawing in a breath. “However that’s not the reason you need to go.”
I don’t know why my eyes drift to our wedding photo hanging on the wall over the fireplace but they did and I continue to stare at it wishing I could hear his voice, wishing for him to hold my hand and be with me as I say the words that seal our fate.
A woman could wish all she wants, doesn’t mean those wishes will come true. I’ve had my share come true and now it’s time to turn the lamp to someone else. I hope they have better luck than I did. I hope their wishes never turn to burdens.
This was my burden to carry alone.
The burden of truth.
“Visit your father as much as you can over the next two weeks, let him know how much he means to you and reassure him that you forgive him. Promise you’ll never forget him and will always keep him in your hearts. Remind him that you’re happy and swear you’ll take care of each other. Say goodbye to your dad and remember you’ll always be daddy’s little girls,” I whisper, finally peeling my eyes away from the photo on the wall and finding the courage to face Adrianna and Nikki. “Tell him it’s okay and that he can be at peace,” I cry, blinking away the tears I tried so hard to hang on to but the words I was asking my daughters to tell their father were also the words I’d have to say myself.
I’m not ready for goodbye.
I’m not ready for the end.
“Victor’s sick,” I sob.
“What do you mean sick?” Adrianna yelps. “Sick as in he’s dying?”
“Dying? What? No,” Nikki whimpers.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter, pulling one of Victor’s silk handkerchiefs from my pocket and wiping my eyes.
“What does he have?” Anthony asks.
“Lung cancer and from the medical records the lawyer showed me it’s really bad. They gave him a year, two years ago.”
“Two years ago? You’ve known he’s been sick for two years and you kept it from us?” Adrianna accuses, rising to her feet as she glares down at me through her sobs.
“He didn’t tell me either, Adrianna. I found out the same day I found out about the transfer,” I argue.
“What about chemotherapy or radiation?” Nikki questions.
“It’s too late its stage four and your father has refused any treatment. I spoke to the family doctor and at this stage the best any doctor would recommend is making the patient comfortable. However, Victor isn’t just any patient, he’s an inmate and they don’t care if he’s in pain or if he’s losing oxygen.”
“I can’t fucking believe this!” Adrianna shouts, wiping her face angrily as she paces.
“Reese’s calm down,” Anthony soothes, rubbing her shoulders only for her to shove his hands away.
“Don’t tell me to calm down! He’s refused treatment for two years! How am I not supposed to be angry about that? For two years he’s been making plans for Rocco, playing fucking ‘chess’ so his goddamn organization remains intact instead of taking care of his health. For two years he made sure he had all his ducks lined in a row when it came to the mob but what about us? What happens to us after he’s gone? We’re the ones who will mourn him long after he’s buried and the suits that come to pay their respects will forget Victor Pastore ever existed!”
“A, that’s enough!” Anthony shouts as he stares at me.
“You mentioned Rocco,” I begin, wondering why she was talking about my nephew. What did my deceased sister’s son have to do with Victor’s organization? “Adrianna, what does Rocco have to do with your father’s business?”
Adrianna crosses her arms under her chest and turns to her husband.
“Go on and tell her,” she demands. “Stop protecting him and tell her.”
He steps closer to her and pins her with a glare.
“I quit protecting your old man a long time ago,” he hisses.
Twisting the handkerchief in my hand, I stand from the sofa and step between them.