Page 141 of The Cost of Forgetting You

Dad slips into a classic from Phil Collins. “Against All Odds.” The only full song I ever learned to play on the piano, simply because it was Dad’s favorite. I smile, remembering Lucy’s note. Of course it was his favorite. All along, it’s because it was hers.

Slowly the resentment I’ve held for the torch he carried for her gives way to understanding. To sorrow, that it ever had to be that way at all.

When Dad plays, he turns into something else. Himself, but so much more. He is the song. It’s the air flowing in and out of his lungs. The blood coursing through his veins. For this moment we’re suspended in time. There’s no dementia here. No pain. And I could weep for it, that sweet reprieve, as I lose myself in it as well.

We play the song all the way through. Dad carries most of the harmony, while I keep us on track with the melody. Kesha’s jaw drops somewhere around the second verse and stays that way till the very end. When the very last note breathes its last, the few people gathered around erupt in applause. He turns to me, flushed and wide-eyed, and smiles. “I like it here.”

“Yeah?” I murmur. I inhale, but my lungs won’t fill up. My hand is still trembling as I bring it to my chest and push, willing the ache away.

His brows gather close. “What’s wrong?”

“I just—” Tears rush to the surface. Embarrassment knots my stomach. I can’t believe I’m doing this here, in front of everyone. Kesha must see the look on my face, because she’s suddenly very interested in the floor. I force my gaze to meet my father’s, but all I want is to crawl in a hole. “I’m so sorry. For blaming what happened on you. For not understanding that you and Lucy…” My throat fills, and I swallow, trying to clear a path to breathe. “You loved her, Dad, and I’m sorry I couldn’t see that. Didn’t want to see that. I shouldn’t have punished you for it. I was so cruel. I didn’t even try to understand.”

His hand settles over mine, where it has fallen into my lap. “You were just a kid.”

“Yeah, but that letter?—”

“That letter,” he interjects, “made me so proud.”

My breath catches. “W-what?”

“All I ever wanted was for you to be able to stand up for yourself. To say what you wanted, rather than what you thought we wanted to hear. I was proud of you for writing that letter.” His gaze catches on mine and he grimaces. “I should’ve reached out to you sooner, but I wanted to honor your wishes.”

Tears puddle in the corners of my mouth, dampening my words. “I was so selfish, Daddy.”

He uses his free hand to swipe some of those tears away. The other remains on mine, squeezing every time a sob rattles my throat.

“Being selfish isn’t as awful as people say. There are bad ways to be selfish, sure. Not being careful and getting someone into a situation they shouldn’t be in. Marrying them so no one thinks you’ve done the wrong thing, even when you know your heart lies with someone else. Giving in to desires that will hurt everyone you love.” His eyes go wide, unseeing, like he’s in another time, rather than here with me. “But there are good ways, too. Like going after your dream job or living someplace just because you love it. Taking the one you love for yourself. Believing you deserve it. Because you do, sweet pea. I made the wrong decisions in my life, but I’m glad you were selfish. I hope you’ll continue to be selfish in the very best ways.”

The words are slow, stilted. I can hear the effort he puts into each one, and then into stringing them together to form a coherent sentence. It’s a gift I’ll never be able to thank him enough for, that he managed to give them to me.

By the time he falls quiet, I can’t see him through the tears. I collapse into him, my arms tight around his neck, and let myself cry in my father’s arms. Perhaps for the very last time.

“The cost of forgetting you,” he whispers into my hair, “is that I’ll never be able to make it right. To show you how very sorry I am for the way I let you down.”

“I know, Daddy. I know.”

He leans back, cradling my sopping-wet cheeks in his trembling hands, and smiles like I’m a miracle in the flesh. “I’d do it differently, you know. If I could. I’d tell you the truth. Set a better example. It’s my first time living life, sweet pea, but I wish for your sake it were my second so I had better lessons to teach you.”

I nod into his hands, my tears dripping into his palms. His guitar-string calluses are fading. Another piece of him that’s slowly passing away. I want to hold on for as long as I can. But I also want him to know I’m capable of letting go.

“You did an amazing job. All the good things I am are because of you.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “They’re because of you. You’re remarkable, Delilah. Don’t ever forget it.”

I collect his hands in mine and squeeze. My head drops, gaze trained on our gathered hands. “Truett said the same thing.”

“He’s smart, like his mama was.” Dad chuckles, but it’s dry and wrought with pain. “Just one more life lesson, then we can do some paperwork and go get ourselves some shrimp sandwiches.” He looks at the piano keys, his chin wobbling slightly, as he adds, “If you love him, don’t let him pass you by. I promise you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.”

My face crumples, and his does, too. It takes several long minutes for us to gather our composure and peel ourselves away from the piano. Several more before we can explain to Kesha that despite our display, we do like it here, and we are ready to make that decision.

The whole drive to the Grille, I lose myself in fragile silence. Dad, meanwhile, chatters on about what he’ll do if they don’t have his shrimp this time, our conversation already forgotten. It’s perhaps the only blessing of his disease, that wounds ripped open can so quickly be mended.

Mine remain raw within me, desperate for some kind of resolution. And no matter how many circles my brain travels in, I always come back to the same one, with dirty blond hair and a knowing grin.

Two hours later, when we roll into our driveway, he’s waiting on our front porch as if I’d summoned him, my name the only word on his lips.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

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