A subtle gasp that matches the guilt displayed in her irises sounds.
I take her hand, squeezing it. Not only to let her know it’s okay, but to help me be okay with what I need to tell her next. “I was sad that I missed our tradition, but being with you wasand isjust as important. You see, I made it a personal tradition that on the morning of his birthday, I would sit down with a cup of coffee, prepared the way he would always have it, open a fresh tub of soda crackers, and…” I pause, a dry feeling in my throat blocking the words from coming out.
She lifts our conjoined hands, pressing a kiss to them. “Go on.”
“I talk to him as if he were sitting there with me. I recap the week, sometimes go back and recap the year, filling him in on the highlights, good and bad.”
“I love that.” Sarina’s voice saddens. “I wish I believed in something that would make me want to do the same in honor of my grandma’s passing. But I don’t believe in much past this life.”
“Can I let you in on a little secret?”
“Of course.”
“I’m not sure I do either. But what I do believe in, is that just because someone we love isn’t here with us, it doesn’t mean we have to erase their presence from our life. Maybe my tradition is just a way of coping. A way to allow myself to bask in the delusion that a part of my dad is still here. But maybe, just maybe, on the off chance there’s a part of a soul still lingering on earth, or wherever souls lay to rest, that they can hear me. And maybe if that’s the case,hecan hear me, and hopefully I can make him proud.”
“Trust me, wherever he is, he’s proud of you.”
“I hope so.”
Sarina twists on the bench, and our hands loosen from one another’s as she rests a half-bent knee on the weathered wood’s surface. “Of course he is. Especially if he could see what this place is about to be restored to.”
Nostalgia and pride beat at my chest. Shortly after our reception party, it was brought to my attention that after Sarina’s father learned of the zoning restrictions of the property and that he wouldn’t be able to commercialize it as he had hoped, he put it up for sale. And like the dick he is, he purposely made it more expensive than what he bought it for. So Sarina’s brothers and I pooled our money together and decided to all purchase the property, so we can restore it and make it into afunctional park again —and a green space that will better serve the community.
Sarina might have planted the seed in their mind, but either way, I’m thankful it worked the way it did.
She moves from the bench and falls onto my lap, straddling me. Next, she takes two crackers out, handing me one. “I’m proud of you. Same way I’m proud to be your wife.” She lifts her cracker up to mine in a subtle toast. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh yeah? And what might that be?”
“I picked up a shift tonight at Luxe.”
“Wait, aren’t they closed today?”
“Yep, that’s part of the surprise, silly.”
“Why do I feel like you’re not telling me something?”
“Because I’m not, it’s a surprise. Just meet me there at the time I text you, okay?”
“Whatever you say, mama.”
I notice she’s wearing my suit jacket I gave her the night we met. She has it styled the same way she did at our impromptu reception at The Wilted Flower, with a black fitted dress underneath and a belt overtop, cinching at the waist.
“You’re wearing my jacket.”
She leans in for a kiss. “Mhm. You like?”
“On you? Very much.”
“Good, it gives me the confidence I need.”
“For?”
“You’ll see.”
CHAPTER 39
SARINA
