She quickly sighed, then went to the door to crack it open, retrieving something while whispering, “Thank you.” A maid smiled before walking away.
Relocking the door, Noma then faced me, clutching a plastic bag. She inhaled, very deeply, then confessed, “When I lost my little girl, my world shattered, but at least I was able to say goodbye.” Her shrugging shoulders held a touch of hope laced with incredible pain. “Maybe we can create the same tonight.”
I sat up straight, sensing another gift being delivered.
As if welcoming my hunger, she came to me, hungry herself, sitting in front of me. The bag tighter to her chest, she promised, “Like how you and I together is always home, saying goodbye—speaking to someone who has passed, maybe can form a connection we can call on when needed. Understand?”
I thought of water. Maybe it was a connection, too.
Nodding, I held my breath.
Noma reached into the plastic bag and pulled out a white candlestick and a lighter. Holding it between us, she lit it. “Who do you want this for?”
A part of me wanted to speak to my mother, but, in all honesty, I never knew her. Dad, however, being gone was a gaping hole in this little boy’s chest.
Hoping my answer wouldn’t hurt Noma, I quietly said, “Dad.”
Quivering lips smiled. “This is for your dad.”
We sat in silence because I didn’t know what to do next.
Noma offered, “Want me to go first?”
Shyly, I nodded.
“Okay.” She exhaled and closed her eyes. “Lennox Gentry, thank you so much for entering my life. You are someone I will always treasure. Don’t worry about your son. I will love him enough for the three of us.” Her last words cracked. Then, she opened her eyes, slowly handing me the candle.
Holding it, I stared at the flame, praying my words would be heard. “Dad… I’m not sure… how to live without you. It wasn’t every day that I got to see you, but I loved it when I did.” I swallowed. “You seemed to like me so much.”
A hand rested on my folded knee, encouraging me to say more.
My jaw moving from side to side, I finally added, “I’ll never regret our ride.” My eyes welled and my throat choked me. “Only that it got you killed.”
Noma’s other hand covered her mouth.
I meant it. “If it weren’t for my birthday,” tears fell, “I’d still have a mom and a dad.”
“Maddox, sweet baby?—”
I cried. “I’m sorry, Dad.” I lifted my chin. “And I’ll kill those who killed you.”
Noma’s hand fell to her lap. Whatever she saw on my face spooked her to the bone.
Getting us as far as possible from the East Coast, Noma took us to the most western part of the U.S. in Northern California. There were beautiful tall trees, but lots of dreary weather. It was like the clouds had followed us, or we’d found the perfect clouds to hide under in hopes no enemy bikers would find us.
On the outskirts of a little town that felt slightly behind the hustle and bustle of the rest of the world, was a tiny two-story cottage Grandpa had paid cash for many years ago. Noma said it was for protection. A place for her to hide if danger ever got past his lines of defense. But it quickly became clear this was also a sanctuary they had retreated to in the past.
Hidden on a narrow dirt road, our new-slash-old home had two bedrooms. One on the main floor, and mine that was more of a loft with an A-frame ceiling. The whole place couldn’t have been over a thousand square feet, but Noma loved it. She said a calmer lifestyle was a ‘quality’ one. However, I think she felt closest to the man who bought it for her. It was as if Grandpa were here with us. Maybe he was part of the clouds. The clouds that would shelter the woman he adored and her baby boy.
And for a time, it did.
1 ? “Always Been You” — Katie Hargrove & Harry Baymiller
Chapter 4
Forgiving Fate
4 years later…?1
