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I was on the top floor of what I guessed was an empty firehouse. A beautiful woman with dark skin and long wavy black hair approached me. She hugged me without saying a word. I felt complete love and comfort in her arms. She held me tight. When she finally released me, she stared at me. She never spoke, but I could hear her in my head. She told me to let go of Ray, that he was okay now. But she had concern in her eyes and wanted me to reach out to Junior, to check on him, protect him, and love him. I shook my head adamantly to tell her no and frowned. She closed her eyes, determination evident on her face. I kept hearing the name Junior repeated over and over in my head.
“Mom!” Kyra shouted. I woke to her shaking me. “Wake up! You have to take us to school!” I was awake—or at least more awake than I had been in quite a while. I shuffled out of bed and rushed to do my regular routine. The kids were ready to go. I needed to get myself together. I needed to get back to life. Thirty minutes later Kyra confirmed this when I dropped her off at school. Before getting out of the car, she looked at me with pure disappointment and maybe a bit of resentment and said, “Wake up, Mom. Captain Ray is never coming back to life. But we are still here.” Scowling, she shook her, then continued, “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t raise Max. I’m just a kid. We need you to wake up and be here.” Then she left, slamming the van door shut, without giving me her ritual kiss and hug.
When I got home, I looked at myself in the mirror. I saw myself as others must have seen me since Ray died. I was in overworn sweats. My hair was a frizzy mass of nothingness on top of my head. I had gained twenty pounds. I decided to take a sick day. I was tired of being worn out and washed out. I went for a walk. I walked, and walked, and walked. I must have walked all around Palm Hills. I arrived back home a little after noon, drenched in sweat. I looked down, struggling to pull my keys out of my pocket, when I heard a familiar deep voice. “Are you Cassie?”
Ray? I immediately thought with hope and disbelief. The voice sounded so much like Ray’s. I felt my heart rate increase. Of course it wasn’t Ray. It was someone who resembled him very much, though, but who was much younger and had darker skin. I frowned in confusion and disbelief. I finally found my voice and answered, “Yes.”
The man cleared his throat and rubbed the right side of his cheek—just like Ray used to do when he had something to tell me but didn’t know how to say it.
“I’m Ray Jr.”
My eyebrows raised and my eyes filled with tears. I nodded. “Of course you are.”
“I’ve wanted to meet you. Dad talked a lot about you.”
“But you didn’t come to his funeral. You didn’t even return his phone calls,” I said.
“No, I didn’t. Dad sent me e-mails all the time.”
“Why didn’t you go to Ray’s funeral?”
“It was too late for the funeral. Dad was already gone, so what was the point of coming?”
I shook my head. “Why are you here?”
“I regret not going to see him. I am sorry that we didn’t make amends. I have… regrets.”
“That doesn’t explain why you are here,” I said. Sweat was dripping down my forehead. I lifted the bottom of my T-shirt to wipe it from my face. I didn’t care if I was flashing Ray Jr. and my entire neighborhood with my cottage cheese stomach and pathetic excuse for a bra. Today was the day my daughter had told me to wake up, and that’s what I was doing.
Once the sweat was gone, I could see more clearly. Ray Jr. was in a fancy-schmancy suit and tie. I glanced down at his feet. He had fancy shoes on, too—shoes that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe. I shook my head. This man was nothing like my Ray. But then I looked into his eyes. Damn him. He had Ray’s light-brown eyes.
He was clean shaven. No thick mustache. No thick, full gray hair that I could run my hands through. He was bald. It was as if he had wanted to erase any possible resemblance he had to his amazing father. But he couldn’t. His eyes, lips, voice, and body were exactly like his father’s. He was just younger—and darker.
“I was hoping I could take you out to lunch so we could talk.”
“Why not call first?” I asked crabbily.
“I did. I left you messages, but when you didn’t return my calls, I thought I’d stop by.”
I frowned. Then I realized I had left my cell phone on the kitchen table. I had only my keys and
a bottle of water on me. I blinked.
“Oh.” I took a deep breath. “I left my phone in the house. Um…” I heard a voice inside that sounded like the voice of the woman in my dream. Talk to him. I shook my head. I was annoyed and aggravated but heard myself accept his offer. “Sure. I could use a bite to eat. Mind coming in for a few minutes while I take a quick shower and change?” I asked.
“Sure,” Ray Jr. replied as he entered my home.
