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“You mean besides the 96 percent graduation rate and a 94 percent placement rate? Well, it came down to location. I always wanted to live in New York, and I knew my mom loved it there.” Her gaze meets mine. “My mom moved to New York to be with me,” she clarifies.
“You are close with your mum?”
She nods. “Yeah, we’ve been each other’s rock the last five years.” She worries her lip as a somber look washes over her features.
“Is this because of your dad’s passing? You’ve spoken of it before.” For all the time I’ve known her, worked closely with her, she’s barely spoken of him, let alone her family. “When did he...” my words trail off, my own emotions of losing my mum making my throat feel dry.
“Seems like yesterday”—she inhales— “but in reality, it was a long time ago. He got sick my freshman year of college.”
“You can talk to me.”
“I know. It’s hard, though, no matter how much time has passed.”
Leaning forward, I place my elbows on the table. As painful as it is for her to tell this story and for me to hear it, I want to know everything about her. Everything that has made her the woman she is today.
“My freshman year wasn’t how I expected it to go. Dad was tired all the time, but we thought nothing of it. Then he complained of pain, reoccurring pain in his back. Nothing made it better. Then the weight loss started. That’s when we got scared. Once the jaundice showed up...” Her hand lifts and wipes away a stray tear that has trailed down her cheek. “By then... well, by then we were too late. The doctors diagnosed him with pancreatic cancer.”
Fresh tears well in her eyes. I reach my hand out to take hers. I need to feel her.
Comfort her.
Comfort myself, too.
She doesn’t know what the account of her father’s illness is doing to me right now. The feelings that are rising to the surface as she speaks.
There’s a connection between us.
Raven knows what it means to lose a parent. She knows the loss that drives me. The loss that eats at my soul.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. It was devastating to see it all happen so quickly. Trying to go to school. Trying to take care of Dad as he started palliative care. Then taking care of Mom when he went to hospice. She couldn’t do everything for him, and that seemed to bother her the most. They were special, my mom and dad. Always two peas in a pod. Her heart shattered when he passed. I’m glad I got to see them in love, though. Even at the end. That was a precious treat.”
I almost can’t breathe as I grasp Raven’s hand tighter.
When the feel of her hand isn’t enough, I pull her chair just a little closer. I need to feel her warmth. In the middle of all that loss, she found something a ‘precious treat.’
She’s astonishing.
My free arm reaches out, and my finger swipes away at the tear running down her cheek. Our gazes lock, and a silent moment passes between us.
“What about you, Charles?” she breaks the silence. “What’s the real story with you and your dad?”
“Ha. That bastard.” A hollow and bitter laugh escapes my mouth.
“Please talk to me.”
“It wasn’t always strained, the relationship between my father and I,” I tell her.
“You had a happier childhood, too?”
“It wasn’t atrocious. I think Father worked too much, and that put a strain on Mum.” I try to pull back my hand from hers, but she’s not having it. Instead, she looks me in the eye and then curls her fingers around mine tighter. “But that’s another story. I don’t want to talk abouthim.”
“Tell me about your mother, then. After they divorced, what does she do now?”
“There was no divorce. Like your father, she also passed away.”
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