“Yes. No.” I exhaled hard. “I don’t know. But I promised, and I can’t let him down.” My eyes implored her. “Please, tell him I need twenty minutes.”
Her nose wrinkled, but she nodded. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, and pulled my hair into a smooth ponytail. I found a comfortable outfit for the drive, packed a few casual outfits, a few dressier ones, and one black dress for the funeral, just in case.
Ace was sitting at the kitchen table with Calvin as I walked in, rolling the suitcase behind me.
“Sorry, I overslept.” I apologized for making him wait.
His eyes were darker than normal and solemn, his demeanor strangely humble. “Not a problem, Holly.” His eyes narrowed. “Are you okay?”
I swallowed the bile that seemed permanently lodged in my throat and nodded.
He stood from the table and shook Calvin’s hand before smiling at Whitney. She didn’t make much effort to smile back.
I hugged Calvin, then forced a hug on Whitney. “Be careful,” she warned.
I was going to the man’s childhood home to help him say goodbye to his dying father. It wasn’t like there would be a huge sexual tension in the air.
Ace took my bag and shoved it into the back of his Porsche. He pulled away, thanked me again for being there, and headed down the highway.
I’d forgotten that his father lived so close, but the ride to Cold Springs, his hometown, was just under two hours. It was nostalgic and filled with a wide mixture of lower and upper middle-class homes. It was a clean city, beautiful really. I tried to picture Ace growing up here as a kid as we passed a park, a middle school, and beautiful views of the Hudson.
We pulled up to a little white house. The siding was aged, but the yard perfectly manicured to match the neighbors. He got out, opened my door, and then leaned against the car for a moment before offering to take me inside.
“Little Ace!” A dark haired woman stood in the open doorway. He didn’t act overly excited to see her, or her him.
“Holly, this is my sister, Eve. Eve, this is my friend, Holly.” Ace introduced us with little emotion or enthusiasm.
She forced her lips into a tiny smile, her eyes dropping to my shoes and back up again. It was obvious that Ace either didn’t bring girls home or brought too many. Either way, she didn’t appear too happy that I was there.
“Come inside.” She waved us in. Just inside the door, she stopped us, placing a hand on her brother’s arm. “It’s bad, Ace. He can barely breathe and all hospice can do is keep him comfortable.”
Ace reached for my hand, and I threaded my fingers through his. “How long?”
Eve shrugged. “A day. Maybe two.”
Inside the little house, pictures lined almost every inch of the walls. I got my first glimpse of young Ace, starting at birth all the way up until now. He was a hot little shit. Even at a young age, his grin was smeared all over his face, displaying some of the attitude that he had now. It wasn’t taught. He was obviously born with it.
“Hey, Ace.” A large man, wide, not tall, walked down the stairs.
Ace’s fingers tightened on mine. “Brady, this is my friend, Holly. Holly, this is my older brother, Brady,” Ace said with even less enthusiasm than when introducing his sister.
“You should go on up,” Brady said, jerking his chin to the second floor.
Giving me a small smile, Ace led me up the stairs. Pictures of Ace from little league to the major leagues lined the long hallways. I peeked into a room that I assumed to be Ace’s. It had shelves with baseball trophies crowded tightly together. We stopped outside the last door on the right. Ace gripped both my hands, leaned in, and pressed his forehead against mine.
“I don’t think I could do this without you,” he whispered.
He pushed open the door. It was hard to imagine the frail man in the hospital bed as being the tyrant Ace spoke of. This man had thinning black hair that clung to his skeletal face that was so crinkled from the sun there wasn’t a smooth spot to be seen.
His lips were bluish from the lack of oxygen, even with the tank in use. As I watched, Ace leaned over and kissed the old man on the forehead. “Hi, Dad. It’s me. Ace.”
I covered my mouth, to hold back the sob that wanted to escape when Ace reached for the old man’s hand.
His dad didn’t respond at all. No flinch, no twitch, not even a movement around the eyes or mouth. He looked like he was already gone and just waiting for his organs to give completely out.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I whirled around to see Eve standing in the doorway, her hands on her meaty hips. “If you’re going to ask him for forgiveness, you need to do it now, while he still might be able to hear you. Go ahead, tell him you’re sorry for being such a pathetic bastard of a son.”
I gasped, unable to believe what she was saying to him, but Ace didn’t move, didn’t say a word. Just continued to hold his dad’s hand.
Eve stepped into the room. “Well, aren’t you going to apologize for disappearing off the face of the earth? For not coming home until he was practically in a coma?”
Her voice was getting louder the closer she got to the bed. Furious, I stepped in front of her, stopping her from getting closer to Ace.
“Leave him alone,” I told her through gritted teeth. “How dare you say such things.”
She looked down her nose at me. “I suggest you step out of the way, little girl. Aren’t you a little young for Ace anyway? Have you even graduated high school?”
My fists clenched at my sides, and I was a second away from slugging this horrible woman when strong hands came down on my shoulders.
“We should go,” Ace said, and Eve grinned in what appeared to be triumph.
“Yeah, that’s what I expected,” she spat. “Five minutes in and then you could consider your duties met.”
“Get out,” I yelled, surprising myself. Surprising her. I pointed to the door. “Get out and leave him alone.” I took a step toward her, forcing her backward. “Now!”
Red-faced, Eve turned on her heel and slammed the door with a loud whack. I was breathing hard, my heart pounding as I tried to control the rage that was still sweeping through me at that horrible woman.
“Ace?”
I turned at the same time Ace did, looking to the bed where the old man was lying. His eyes were still closed, but this time, his hand was lifted like he was feeling for something in the air.
Ace looked at me, and I gave him a gentle smile, urging him to go back to his father’s side.
“Yeah, Dad. It’s me,” he said, taking the man’s hand. The tiniest smile spread across the wrinkled features.
“You… get… World… Series?” The words were labored, each seeming to weight a million pounds.
“Not yet, Dad. Almost made it last year. Gonna try again this season.”
His rummy eyes opened, closed, then opened again. “You… played… good.”
Ace looked up at me, tears sparkling in his eyes.
“Thanks, Dad. You taught me well.”
“Too… hard… regret.”
“Nah. No regrets, Dad. You hear me? I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to make things right.”
“Hard… headed.”