My Father's Best Friend

by Ali Parker

  He stared at me expectantly.

  “Um, yes,” I stammered. “I’m going as soon as I can.”

  “Cool.” His grin made him shine.

  The bell rang, interrupting us. I blinked, still feeling numb, still feeling confused. “What, um, which bell is that?”

  “Last period. It’s break now.” Jason stood. “Hey, maybe I’ll see you at the hospital.”

  “Yes. Maybe you will.”

  He left, neglecting to close the door all the way. Out in the hall, kids shouted and laughed, the spirit of the first afternoon of winter break filling the school. Heart hammering, I got up and closed the door.

  Turning, I took in a long breath. The light snow that started that morning had now doubled in size. The kids’ first day out of school was now going to be even more fun. Looking at the flakes coming down, though, I couldn’t summon any joy.

  Raven is awake. Andrew didn’t tell me.

  I knew that he didn’t want a relationship with me anymore, but I hadn’t thought he was going to exclude me from news on Raven’s well-being. Didn’t he understand how much I cared for her?

  Dropping into my chair, I pulled out my cell phone. It could be he hadn’t texted because he was busy and he planned on calling me.

  If that was the case, I couldn’t wait.

  I just heard that Raven is awake, I texted. How is she?

  I stared at the message for a long time, thinking about adding more. Anything else was too emotional, though, so I sent the text as it was.

  Letting out a shuddering sigh, I put the phone down and closed my eyes. I still had some work to finish before I left school for the day, but how that was going to happen, I didn’t know. Focusing before Jason came in had been hard enough.

  “Okay,” I whispered to myself. “Emails. You have to answer those emails. One at a time. That’s all it takes.”

  Opening my browser, I logged into my school account and managed to write two responses before my phone buzzed.

  My hands flew off the keyboard like it was made of fire. Snatching up my phone, I gulped as I read.

  Yes, Andrew had written back. Raven is awake and doing well. It would be best if you don’t stop by.

  Every function in my body must have halted. My heart stopped beating. My blood ceased to flow. No air entered my lungs.

  It would be best if I didn’t stop by?

  This was about Raven! Not about Andrew and his dumb belief that I was getting in the way of their relationship.

  I felt the guttural sob coming, but it was too late to stop it. Thank goodness, the door was closed and kids still yelled and laughed beyond it.

  Dropping my face into my hands, I let the tears come, not that I had any say in the matter.

  Chapter 56

  Andrew

  I paused a few feet outside of Raven’s new hospital room, two hot chocolates in hand.

  “I felt bad going without you, babe,” Jason said from inside the room.

  Hearing someone call my daughter “babe,” a kid at that, made me both want to cringe and laugh.

  “Seriously,” Raven replied. “It’s fine. Let me see that picture of Josh and you again. Oh my god. He’s ridiculous,” She laughed.

  I smirked to myself. Every time I heard Raven laugh, I was reminded of how lucky I was to have her by my side.

  I would never slip on the gratitude again.

  Deciding I’d probably done enough eavesdropping for one day, I entered the room. “Knock, knock.”

  Raven briefly glanced up from where she held Jason’s phone in her good arm. Her leg and arm were still in casts, as was Jason’s arm.

  Jason straightened up as I approached. I got the sense he was still a little wary around me, which was fine. Keeping him on his toes was a good idea.

  “You went snowboarding with your arm like that, huh?” I handed him his hot chocolate, and he shrugged.

  “Kind of. It was hard. I had to stick with the kiddie slopes. All my friends were out on the big ones, and it was me and a bunch of eight-year-olds.”

  Raven and I both laughed, and I took a sip of her hot chocolate.

  “Dad,” she whined. “Give me that. Don’t you have some coffee to drink or something?”

  “This is much better.” I winked as I handed her the plastic cup.

  “I can’t believe you have to spend Christmas here,” Jason said with a frown. “That sucks.”

  In a millisecond, I started gathering words of encouragement for Raven. I’ll be here. We’ll watch Christmas movies and play games. Karen will be coming to visit.

  She didn’t need any of that, though.

  “It’s fine,” she answered. “It still feels like Christmas. It doesn’t matter that there’s no tree or caroling or whatever.”

  “People still carol?” I asked.

  She gave me a look. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes,” I solemnly answered. “I do.”

  “At least I’m out of the ICU. That’s a great Christmas present.”

  I had to agree with her there. She’d been moved to another floor a day before, and though the doctors wanted to keep her in the hospital for several more weeks, having her in this new wing made me feel better. It was confirmation that things really were looking up.

  “I should go,” Jason said, checking the time on his phone. He grimaced. “Sorry. My cousins are all coming over for dinner, and my mom will freak if I’m not back to help get ready.”

  “That’s okay.” Raven smiled, her cheeks pink. The life had been coming back into her face the past few days, and I couldn’t stop staring at her.

  My little girl. I’d done my best to stay optimistic while she was in the coma, and now that she was awake, I could finally admit the truth to myself. I’d been scared shitless, half-believing that I was cursed and all the women I loved were destined to be taken from me.

  Or destined to be pushed away from me.

  Pain gripped my heart at the thought of Lanie, and I didn’t realize I was standing there staring at Raven until she cleared her throat.

  “Dad,” she said tightly. “Will you go get me some whipped cream for this?”

  “There’s already—”

  “I want more.” She gave me a pointed look, and I finally got it.

  Duh. She wanted to say goodbye to Jason in private.

  I still wasn’t used to the idea of her having a boyfriend. Wasn’t it just yesterday that she avoided the other gender like the plague?

  “Whipped cream it is.” I took her hot chocolate cup. “You know, hospital whipped cream is just fillers. It’s likely five percent real cream.”

  “I don’t care,” she answered through gritted teeth.

  By the time I received the extra whipped cream from the disgruntled hospital barista and returned to Raven’s room, she was alone.

  “You two have a nice send-off?” I asked, setting her hot chocolate on the table next to her.

  Raven made a face. “Ew. Dad.”

  “What? All I said was—”

  “Let’s stop talking about this.”

  “Okay.” I picked up the remote and settled on the narrow, stiff couch. “Want to see what’s on the movie channel?”

  “Is Lanie coming soon?”

  My thumb froze on the channel button. “I, uh, I don’t know.”

  Raven was quiet as I found a classic movie channel.

  “Why don’t you know?” she asked as I turned up the volume.

  I suppressed a sigh. “She’s been busy, Raven.” I gave her a quick look before turning back to the television. I still hadn’t told her about anything that had happened between Lanie and me. That was a conversation best brought up when Raven was out of the hospital and in a better all-around state.

  “It’s winter break,” she said slowly. “Busy with what?”

  “Family.” I kept my eyes on the screen. “And teachers don’t get as much time off as students do. You know that, right?”

  “Dad. What’s going on?”

>   I couldn’t avoid her eyes anymore. “I told you, Raven, she’s—”

  “Get my phone.” She pointed at where it charged on the shelf below the TV. “I want to talk to her.”

  “You have her number?”

  “I can get it. Or I can email her. It’s the twenty-first century.”

  I sighed and put the movie on mute. “Okay, Raven. Here’s the deal. It’s not good for you to have a lot of visitors right now, so I told Lanie she shouldn’t come and see you.”

  “A lot of visitors?” she repeated, her voice shrill. “Karen and Jason have come to visit me. That’s all. Are you, like, counting the card from Grandma and Grandpa?”

  My lips drew tight. “You’re still in a fragile state.”

  “Something’s going on.” Her voice was quiet, haunting. “Why won’t you just tell me the truth?”

  I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Because,” I answered, “I am your only parent, and it’s my responsibility to do what’s best for you.”

  “And you wouldn’t even know what’s best for me if it wasn’t for Lanie.”

  The tone wasn’t cutting, just sad. I opened my eyes and looked at Raven. The disappointed expression she wore made my heart feel like it was breaking in two.

  “So why isn’t she here?” she asked sadly. “Does she not want to come?”

  “Of course, she wants to come, I told you.” I paused. “You really want to see her?”

  “Yes, I want to see her. She’s, like, I don’t know.” Raven’s gaze dropped to the floor. “My closest friend. I know she’s too old to be my real friend, but whatever. She gets me.”

  Guilt hit me hard and heavy. I was going to have to tell Raven the truth, whether I wanted to or not.

  “Lanie and I broke up.”

  Raven’s jaw dropped, and her eyes widened. “What? Why?”

  “Because of what’s happened. Raven.” I rested my forearms on my legs and leaned into them. “I haven’t been giving you enough time and attention. A relationship between adults, it’s a lot of work. Having a girlfriend was starting to distract me from caring for you.”

  “What caring are you talking about? I was just lying here in a coma.”

  The word “coma” made me wince. “Fine. But from here on, I need to be focusing on you. We’re going to be spending a lot more time together. I promise. No more working from home. No more meetings on the weekends. We’ll take a trip together on spring break. Anywhere you want to go. Maybe you can even bring a friend—”

  “I can’t believe you broke up with her.” She sounded stunned.

  “You get why I did, though, right?”

  “I get why you think you had to.” Raven silently watched me. No eye roll. No exasperated sigh. No groan. The typical Ravenisms weren’t there. Instead, there was a deep sadness, a precocious grief emanating from her.

  “Are you mad?” I asked.

  She blinked, seeming to think it over. “Do you love Lanie?”

  I looked down at my hands.

  “Dad? Tell me the truth. Please.”

  Tilting my face up, gazing into her eyes, I couldn’t do anything else. “Yes,” I confessed. “I love her.”

  Raven’s eyes grew wet.

  “Oh, Raven. Please don’t cry.”

  Tears spilled down her face. “I love her too. And I’m sure she loves us. Why would you think that’s a problem?”

  “Raven, honey, I told you. I only have so much time. It belongs to you. This is your last year of high school, and you’re going to have physical therapy for your leg, and—”

  Again, she didn’t let me finish. “You’ve never had a girlfriend, Dad, so I know she’s special to you. And you guys made it work even after her parents got mad about it all.”

  “This is different.”

  “Yeah, it’s different because we need her now more than ever,” she choked out. The tears were still coming. I felt like a piece of shit, sitting there making my injured daughter cry.

  “Raven, please. Don’t get upset.”

  “She gets me, Dad. And it’s silly that you think you need to spend more time with me. I don’t want a dad who’s breathing down my neck all the time, watching everything I do.”

  I shook my head. “I still work too much, Raven.”

  “No, you don’t. Your job doesn’t matter. Especially not when Lanie comes over, and we all spend time together. It felt like we were a family. Like she was kind of a new mom.” Raven looked down. “Not to replace Mom, but just, you know, to be another parent. One who understands me.”

  “I don’t understand you?”

  She sniffed. “You’re my dad. I can’t talk about girl things with you.”

  That hurt, but I knew it was the truth.

  “Lanie made me feel like we were a family,” Raven explained. “The three of us … and you pushed her away.”

  Fresh tears ran down her cheeks.

  “Oh, Raven.” I bolted from the couch and took a seat on the edge of her bed. “Don’t cry.”

  “I can’t help it,” she sobbed. “I thought that everyone was going to be here, and she’s not … she’s not.”

  I closed my eyes, trying to push back my own tears. “I’m sorry. I thought this was the best thing for you.”

  “Will you fix it? As a Christmas gift to me?”

  I opened my eyes to take in her imploring look.

  “Are you sure it’s the right thing?” I asked.

  Raven stared at me like I was an idiot.

  Maybe I was.

  “Okay.” I nodded. “I get your point.”

  “You want her back, don’t you?”

  Yes, I wanted her. More than I had let myself admit. Lanie’s face the morning she left my house in tears flashed in front of me. Shit. I’d thought I was doing the right thing. For everyone. It turned out, all I’d done was hurt the people I loved.

  “Yes,” I answered. “I want her back.”

  “Then make it happen.”

  “It might be too late.”

  Raven ran her bottom lip between her teeth. “It can’t have been that long. Just tell her you’re sorry and you made a mistake. That’s what Jason said to me. He thought I was going to be so pissed at him, but I wasn’t mad at all. I never thought the accident was his fault.”

  I smiled sadly. Never had I believed I’d see the day when I took relationship advice from my daughter, but she had a pretty solid view.

  “I really messed up, didn’t I?”

  Raven pursed her lips. “I need a tissue.”

  I grabbed the whole box from the shelf and waited as she dried her eyes.

  “I know it’s already Christmas Eve,” she said, “so maybe it can’t be a Christmas gift, but how about New Year’s?”

  My chest constricted. I didn’t want to lie to her, but I didn’t want to make any rash decisions either.

  “I have a lot to think about, Raven. If I ask Lanie to take me back—”

  “You might have to beg.”

  I ruefully smiled. “If I beg for her to take me back, I have to be certain that having her in our lives is the right thing. I need to know that it’s going to be serious.”

  “I’m serious about her,” Raven mournfully answered. “And I know she’s serious about you.”

  I cocked my head. “How do you know?”

  “Dad.” Her eyebrows rose. “I’m a girl too. I can tell when another girl is crazy about someone. It’s hard to miss.”

  “Okay,” I chuckled.

  “Well?”

  “Let’s watch a movie right now, all right?”

  “But—”

  “This isn’t over. I promise. We’ll talk more about it soon. Right now, let’s just cool it.”

  “Okay,” she sighed.

  Picking up the remote, I unmuted the TV. For me, though, the sound never came back. I had no clue what was happening on the screen. All I saw was Lanie, what I’d had, what I’d lost, and what I could maybe have again one day.

  Chapter 57 />
  Lanie

  “Ring it, Lanie,” Mom encouraged me.

  Reaching forward, I rang the doorbell of the house half a block away from my parents’. The rest of the caroling group—mostly friends and neighbors of my mom’s, and none of them under fifty—bustled in excitement.

  Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door, and then it opened, a white-haired man looking at us all in surprise.

  “One, two,” Mom called out, and all six of us burst into a rendition of Jingle Bells. I mumbled along, hunching down in my jacket and wishing this was all over.

  I just wanted to go back to my apartment, back to the bathrobe I’d lived in since school got out, and back to all the depression I’d been allowing myself to wallow in.

  “Sing,” Mom hissed between her teeth, knocking her shoulder against mine.

  I forced a smile and picked up the tune. The white-haired man was nodding and smiling, enjoying the show enough for the whole neighborhood.

  “See?” Mom said to me after we wrapped up our three songs and were carefully stepping our way down the snow-laden walkway. “This is fun.”

  “Yeah.” I was having about as much fun as I did at the gym on the rare occasions I went, but agreeing with whatever anyone said was just easiest.

  We walked to the next house, fresh snow falling all around us and crunching under our boots. Though I couldn’t appreciate it personally, I could at least be objective and realize it was a gorgeous snowfall. Big, round flakes cascading through the dusk light were made even more lovely by the presence of the block’s sparkling Christmas lights.

  At the last house, we repeated our repertoire.

  “Is that all?” I asked.

  Mom frowned from over her scarf. “I thought you liked this?”

  “I do,” I lied, as Jane Fitz accidentally knocked over a plastic reindeer. “I’m getting cold, that’s all.”

  “Oh, my baby,” Mom cooed, only half ironically. She wrapped her arm around my shoulders and gave me a side hug. “You’re in luck. We’re done.”

  Saying goodbye to the group, the two of us headed back to her house. My dad had scraped the drive that morning, and it was already covered in snow again.