Love Always, Damian

by D. Nichole King

  I won’t fight Ellie when she arrives. I decided that earlier. Everything she spews at me will be completely true. I have no excuses, no defense. Nothing except a bread-crumb trail of mistakes that have led me here.

  “Daddy?” Lia asks, her voice so small.

  “Yeah?”

  “Is Olivia okay?”

  “As far as I know she is. Why?”

  Lia puffs out her lower lip, causing her little dimples to reveal themselves. “Because her grandma said she was sick. She said Olivia wanted to see me.”

  I frown. “I don’t know Olivia’s grandma. Who is she?”

  “That woman I stayed with last night. The one who’s here talking with that police lady. Are they going to take her to see Olivia?”

  I’m confused. I have no clue what to tell her, so I pick her up and take her to the desk where Dad and Officer Kane are waiting for us.

  Dad reaches out and hugs Lia. “I’m so happy you’re safe.”

  “I messed up our dinner, Grandpa. I’m sor—”

  “No apologies,” Dad interrupts. “There’ll be other dinners.”

  I don’t ruin the moment between them by pointing out there probably won’t be. At least not for a long, long time.

  “Okay, Lia,” Officer Kane says. “Tell me what happened at the mall.”

  Lia slinks her arms around my neck again. “Daddy told me to stay where I was and he’d be right back. He went to find me a pink dress. I watched everyone out in the mall, and a lady stopped and held out a cookie to me. I love cookies, especially peanut butter ones, so I went to her. She told me she was Olivia’s grandma, and that Olivia was sick and wanted to see me.”

  I rake a hand through my hair and shift my gaze from my father to Officer Kane. “Is that woman really Olivia’s grandmother?” I ask.

  Officer Kane sighs. “From what we’ve gathered, she had a granddaughter named Olivia who passed away fifteen years ago.”

  “Fifteen years ago?” I ask, because what the hell?

  “Go on, Lia,” Officer Kane prompts. “What happened next?”

  “I thought she was taking me to Grandpa’s hospital. If Olivia was there sick, Grandpa would be there too, taking care of her and he’d call my daddy. Olivia’s grandma doesn’t drive, so we walked to her house. She said Olivia’s mommy would be there soon to pick us up. I watched cartoons and ate a ham sandwich and a piece of cherry pie. It was sooooo good, Daddy. Olivia’s grandma makes the best cherry pies.”

  I smile. “I’ll bet she does.”

  “Then she fell asleep on the couch, and I was tired too. I found a pillow and blanket and thought when Olivia’s mommy got there, she’d wake me up. But in the morning, Olivia’s grandma didn’t know who I was or why I was there.” Lia’s eyebrows furrow. “That’s when I got scared.”

  I hold her closer. Dammit! Lia should never have to be scared and alone. Never.

  “Hey, I’m here now,” I say. “Are you still scared?”

  She shakes her head, blonde hair falling into her eyes. I push it away and kiss her nose. “Good.”

  “What happened after that, Lia?” Officer Kane asks.

  Lia shrugs. “She made me eggs and you showed up. Where is she now? Can I see her?”

  “She’s speaking with the other officers.”

  I catch Officer Kane’s eye, and she holds my gaze for a second. There’s more she’s not telling Lia.

  I clear my throat. “Dad? Could you check over Lia for me? Make sure she’s okay?”

  “Of course.”

  I set Lia on the desk even though I don’t want to. “I’ll be right over there,” I say, pointing to the far corner of the same room.

  Lia nods, and I follow Officer Kane to where I’d indicated. I overhear Dad assuring Lia that Olivia is fine and not in the hospital. Finally, she grins as though she believes him.

  Officer pulls out a notepad and lowers her voice. “Her name is Margaret Harper. She’s a widow, living by herself. We called her daughter, and she’s on her way. After speaking to the daughter, we found out, like I said earlier, Margaret had a granddaughter named Olivia who fell ill when she was Lia’s age and passed away. Margaret is in the early stages of Alzheimer’s and it seems as though she had an episode, either thinking Lia was her granddaughter or a friend of her granddaughter’s.”

  My eyes wander over to Dad and Lia. She’s giggling and wiggling her bare toes, and I wonder how much the experience has fazed her. She seems concerned for Olivia and Margaret, but that’s all. She’s not hurt.

  “Would you like to press charges?” Officer Kane asks.

  Keeping my focus on Lia, I shake my head. “No,” I say. “Just get her some help.”

  The officer nods.

  “Are we free to go?” I ask.

  “You’re free to go,” she affirms.

  I walk over and scoop my little Lia back up in my arms. Then I squeeze her against me again. At best, I have six hours before Ellie arrives and pulls her out of my life, and I’m not wasting another minute.

  ~*~

  Ellie

  The plane lands in Denver, and before I even stand up, I check my phone.

  They found her. She’s safe.

  I read it again to be sure. Then my hand flies to my mouth as I let out an uncontrollable sob. I clench the phone into my palm and hug it against my chest. Tears of relief stream down my face as I gasp for air. I’m falling apart, and I barely notice the other passengers staring and whispering until a lady sits down beside me.

  “Are you all right, dear?” she asks

  I smile at her through the tears. “Yes, thank you. I’m great.”

  She must see I’m happy and not upset, because she smiles back at me. “Good news, then.”

  “Very.”

  After she leaves, I take a deep breath and exit the plane. In the lobby, I’m focused again. Dead set on finding the next flight out of Denver—hopefully direct to Des Moines.

  Skimming through my options, I find exactly what I’m looking for. And only one gate over, leaving in forty minutes. I smile as I hit “Purchase tickets.”

  Then I search again—for two one-way tickets to Florida.

  Chapter 23

  Damian

  Lia and I drove to Dad’s house as soon as we left the police station. The day belonged to Lia, and she wanted to race speedboats in the swimming pool. We’d done it once before. During a Thursday night dinner, Dad surprised her with three remote controlled boats. Hers, of course, was pink.

  “Grandpa, you cheated!” Lia says, pointing at Dad’s green boat in the middle of the pool.

  “How is that cheating?”

  Lia rolls her eyes Ellie-style. “Because I said the rules were you can’t cut through the middle.”

  Dad over exaggerates a confused expression. Then he peers over at me. “I don’t remember those rules. Do you?” he asks me.

  I shrug. “This is between you two.”

  “See, I thought you said we couldn’t cut up a fiddle. And I haven’t cut up any fiddles in this race,” Dad says, working to keep a straight face.

  “Grandpa!” Lia giggles. “There are no fiddles in the pool!”

  He scratches his head. “Hmm. I thought the rule seemed strange.”

  “Middle,” she says, drawing out the word. “You can’t cut through the middle.”

  “The middle?”

  “Yes-yes.”

  “Oh, okay. I think I understand now.”

  I laugh when Dad winks at her.

  “She’s a smart little thing, isn’t she?” Dad says to me.

  “She’s a Lowell,” I confirm.

  “She sure is.”

  “Start over,” Lia directs, and we all steer our boats to the east corner of the pool where we’d set up a checkered flag. “Ready? Set? Go!”

  We zoom around the edge of the pool, and each time Dad’s boat wanders too far into the middle, Lia would call him back in line.

  Half a NASCAR race around the pool, Lia’s attention span runs out. Com
pletely unexpected, she jumps in the pool—the shallow end—fully-dressed. Maybe this little girl has some of me in her.

  I don’t have to think twice about this. I cannonball in after her. Scoop her up and throw her in the air. Lia squeals in delight.

  “Oh, what the hell?” Dad says, and dives in.

  The last time I remember Dad being in the pool was before Mom and Liam died. We’d had a two-on-two basketball game: Liam and Ellie versus Dad and me. Mom reffed.

  Good times.

  I haven’t thought much about Ellie since we left the station. Okay, that’s a lie. I’ve done nothing except think about her.

  About what she’ll say when she arrives.

  About whether or not Blake is with her.

  About how I can’t wait to see her, even if she’s pissed at me.

  I feel myself grin as a memory of Ellie in one of her rare lose-control-moments surfaces in my mind. She’d recently started college at Drake University in Des Moines and someone who knew Liam came up to her, gave his condolences, then hit on her.

  Damn, I never knew that girl to breathe fire, but when she showed up in my bedroom that night, smoke was swirling around her.

  The way her eyes widened when she told me what happened was fucking adorable. Her lips puckered, and I tried to hide my smirk. It didn’t make me happy this douche bag came onto her, but whatever he said made her come alive.

  The spark had been lit, and even though it didn’t last, I was glad to see it could still burn. Her fire gave me hope that someday I’d be okay too.

  Tonight, I’ll see it again, but this time it will be different. I’m the douche bag in this story, not the hero she’ll run to for comfort.

  Even though I’m pretty sure I hate her knight in shining armor, I won’t interfere.

  ~*~

  I should be packing Lia’s bags, but I can’t make myself put a single thing into the new suitcases I bought her. I wonder if she even realizes what’s happening.

  My eyes flick to her. She’s lying on my bed, her little feet taking turns pounding on the mattress and bouncing back up again as she watches a My Little Pony video on my tablet.

  When we got home, she’d asked me to braid her hair. The end hangs over her shoulder, and she’s playing with it.

  I may never see this again.

  I get up off the floor and go to the dresser. Pull open the top drawer. The little black box has its own corner now. I lift it out and slide off the lid. Inside is the trinity heart necklace I gave to Kate, the one Lia found when she destroyed my room.

  I touch my chest, where the symbol is inked into my skin, over my heart. Then I glance at the clock.

  I have time.

  I put the necklace in the pocket of my jeans and face my daughter. “Hey, Lia. Come on, there’s some people I want you to meet.”

  ~*~

  “Where are we going?” she asks from the backseat.

  “A place I should have taken you a long time ago,” I answer.

  This is so overdue. Not only because I want her to meet Kate, either. Mom and Liam are her family, and she has a right to know them.

  Maybe it’s stupid, and she might not understand. Even so, this excursion is for me as well as for her.

  I turn my car into the cemetery. Behind me, I hear Lia’s sharp intake of air. It’s more from surprise than fear.

  “Daddy?” she says.

  I don’t answer right away. Instead, I park first and twist around to her. “You know every week when I leave you with Dylan for a few hours?”

  She bobs her head slowly, her eyes focused on me.

  “This is where I go.” I open the door and get out. Lia does the same, and I meet her on her side of the car. “This way,” I say, taking her hand.

  Together, we walk toward the elder tree. It’s in full blossom with small white flowers scattered along the leaves. A light gust of wind brushes past us, a faint hint of lilac carried among the breeze. Lia’s face tilts up at me, and I smile down at her.

  I lead her under the tree where we can see all three stones, and they can see us. Beside me, Lia squeezes my hand.

  I lower myself to my knees to be closer to my daughter. The plan is to move down the line in the same order I do all the time—saving the best for last.

  “Mom, I’d like you to meet your granddaughter, Lia. Lia, this is your grandma. Her name is Nora.”

  “Like the lady in the picture at Grandpa’s house?” she asks.

  “Yeah, this is her.”

  Lia smiles. “Hi, Grandma.”

  “And this”—I motion to Liam’s stone—“is your uncle Liam.”

  “Look.” She chuckles softly. “That’s my name without the ‘m.’”

  “Because your mother named you after him.”

  Lia studies Liam’s headstone for a second, then she lifts the sleeve of my t-shirt. “That’s the same,” she notices. “And…Mommy has one too.”

  I hesitate, wondering what I’m supposed to tell her. If she knows anything about Liam.

  “It’s the Celtic symbol for brothers. Liam was my brother, and your mom loved him very much.”

  Her blue irises flash up at me. “I thought she loved you.”

  I smile. “No, Liam has always held her heart,” I say, and as I do, I wish it wasn’t the truth. “Liam was a good guy, Lia. You would have liked him.”

  She wiggles tiny fingers at him. “Hi, Uncle Liam.”

  Her voice is so cute when she says it, and I hope, wherever he is, he can hear her.

  I guide Lia to the next stone. I stare at it before I say anything. This cold piece of granite doesn’t even come close to representing the person Kate was. The strong, beautiful, caring human being that cancer stole away.

  Kate is everything I hope Lia will become.

  In my pocket, the necklace weighs me down. For months after Kate died, I wore it around my neck to feel closer to her. The only reason I took it off and kept it off was because some girl asked me about it as I stripped her down. I hated the reminder, so I put it in a box and kept it on my dresser.

  I clutch the charm. Kate made me a promise the night she gave it back that she would always be with me. Kate never went back on a promise, but I’ve never understood this one. Because she’s not with me.

  Maybe one broken promise in a lifetime isn’t all that bad.

  From beside me, Lia steps forward. Then she takes another, and another, until she’s standing right in front of Kate’s headstone.

  She falls to her knees and cocks her head to the side. With outstretched fingers, she traces the heart symbol.

  “This is her, isn’t it?” Lia asks. “The girl who got sick, like Olivia.”

  I’m not surprised she remembers. After these last weeks with Lia, it seems she’s inherited her mother’s memory for important details.

  I close the distance between us and kneel on the ground next to her. “This is Kate,” I say.

  Lia nods. “From the picture.”

  “Yes.”

  She points the symbol engraved in the granite. “That’s her necklace.”

  I squeeze the gold tighter. “Do you remember what it stands for?”

  She pauses, thinking. “Hope.”

  “Hope,” I repeat. “Kate held onto that until her last breath. She never gave up. She fought to the end. Do you know why?”

  Lia shakes her head.

  “Because of love. Because she loved her family, and she wanted to give them the best of her.”

  “And you,” Lia says.

  “What?” I ask, not following her.

  “And you. She loved you too, right?”

  The bottom of the heart digs into my palm. Slowly, I release it, and it sinks low into my pocket. I can’t let it go.

  “Yeah, baby. She loved me too.”

  Again, Lia’s fingers glide over the stone. I watch as she traces over the K-A-T-H-R-Y-N of Kate’s name.

  “That’s my name. Lia Kathryn.” Lia peers up at me. “Am I named after her too?”
r />   “You were.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you were named after the two people your mom and I loved most,” I say.

  My whole world is right here with me, and as I gaze over the three headstones and the little girl at my side, I realize I’m only concerned with one of them. The one who is the culmination of the other three.

  The one who’s still with me.

  Mom, Liam, and Kate—they’ve all moved on, and I’m the only one who hasn’t. I’ve had seven weeks with Lia, and tonight, when Ellie arrives, I’ll have to let her go.

  ~*~

  On our way back to Ames, I receive a text from Ellie.

  Just landed.

  That’s it. Two words that rip me to shreds because I know what they mean. I glance in the rearview mirror. Lia’s reflection guts me even more.

  I speed up to make it home faster. I want to make Lia an ice cream sundae and plan a party with her and Pinkie Pie. God, I want more time. There’s not enough.

  I park my car in the garage. Dylan’s at work and probably won’t be home until late, after Lia and Ellie are long gone.

  Like a prince with his princess, I open the door for Lia and give her a bow. She giggles and skips inside.

  “Go grab all your ponies, and bring them to the table,” I say after her.

  “Okay!” she hollers back.

  As she gathers them, I scoop out vanilla ice cream into two bowls. Add strawberries and sprinkles like my mother used to do, and I set them on the table.

  Lia hops up and down in delight when she re-enters, ponies overflowing in her arms.

  “It’s a party,” I say.

  She picks up Pinkie Pie, the party pony, and makes her dance across the table. “A party? Yay!”

  I don’t tell her it’s a goodbye party. Goodbyes are never happy occasions.

  With Twilight Sparkle, I follow Lia’s Pinkie Pie around the table to the party hall. One by one, each pony arrives. They “eat” ice cream from our bowls and open pretend presents. The best part is seeing Lia’s face light up when I try to talk in a girly-pony voice.

  I laugh. “The apples from my orchard are the best tasting apples in Ponyville,” I say in a horrible rendition of Apple Jack.