Page 55 of Choosing My Happiness
“Should I?” I asked Shaquilla.
“She’s here to attend her fathers funeral,” Shaquilla answered. “Even though she never met him.” She kept her eyes on me. I looked at the girl and she lifted her head nervously. It struck me. She looked like me. Not identical, but I could see similarities. Shaquilla continued, making sure she was extra clear.
“Your father had another daughter, like Blaze had Dylan. Do you believe me?” She seemed to hold her breath while I absorbed the new information.
Rage started sinking into me. Dad hadn’t completely wrapped it up. He had a mistake, and he also hadn’t claimed her.
I looked at Shaquilla, thinking about my childhood. There had been a particularly difficult period when Mom refused Dad’s apology necklaces, and he had to resort to proper diamonds. Those were actually really good times. For six months, he’d come home straight away and be with us. We were a normal family. Then things went back to our type of normal. I did believe her.
“When did she find out?” I asked Shaquilla.
“A few months ago. Her mother finally told her when she died. It was a big secret,” she replied.
I drew a breath, pieces falling into place. Including the fact that not only was my father’s love-child not acknowledged or accepted by anyone in my family, but my husband’s was, and was being pushed on me without any opportunity to keep it asecret, even if I wanted to. Well, this willnotremain a secret anymore. I’ll give the ol’ladies something else to gossip about.
The girl shifted nervously and tossed her hair over her shoulder in a familiar motion. It wasn’t my motion, though. It belonged to someone I’d seen a few weeks ago in a very compromising position with my ex-husband. Oh, this was getting better and better. This girl was the same one that I’d caught Blaze out with in the club. The one he’d been fingers deep in. I took a deep breath and walked over to her.
“Amber?”
She lifted her head and looked at me, fear flooding her eyes. She swallowed nervously and glanced at Shaquilla, then back to me.
I looked hard at Amber. The similarities between us were definitely there. It was more than just the hair.
“How old are you, Amber?” I asked.
“Nineteen.”
The timing was right. It was nineteen years ago that Dad reverted back to his usual self.
“I always wanted a sister. Now I’ve got one,” I whispered. She gave me a shaky, relieved smile. I reached forward and hugged her. Her arms gingerly snuck around me.
“Come on in,” I told both women as we broke apart. Amber’s face was glowing and teary. I held my head high and led them into the funeral home with my hand clasping both of theirs tightly. I wasn’t letting them hide. My father’s daughters were going to sit together at his funeral. He may not have acknowledged her, but I would.
We walked right up to the front, and I heard the whispers start as I passed. The similarities would be glaringly obvious when we were next to each other. Mom glanced towards me as I made my way up. She had a slight smile on her face as she sat next to Blaze and left the rest of the pew for me. Mom hadobviously planned for me to sit next to Blaze. Instead, I sat Amber next to me, Shaquilla next to her, then Blaze, then Mom. Rage flashed across Mom’s face.
“Hey Aunty Shaq, what are you doing up here? I thought Dad said you had to be at the back of everyone if you came?” Dylan crawled from Blaze, and into Shaquilla’s lap.
“Big Daisy told me I had to sit here, and she’s thebossDaisy,” Shaquilla mentioned to him, then looked at me. “I’m sorry. I’ll explain later.”
“No she not. D2 is boss Daisy. She my best friend,” Dylan said as he wiggled around to make himself more comfortable. Shaquilla’s comment to Bear rang in my ears. Was she one of Blaze’s conquests?
I gritted my teeth. More questions, more secrets. Funerals were supposed to be about endings. I took a breath. I wouldn’t make a scene and demand the answers now. There’d be a better time and place. Shaquilla said she’d help with my divorce, and that was a priority. Although, right now I could happily walk out of this town and disappear again. The only thing that would keep me here was Jim, who threw me a concerned look from the other side of the aisle, where he was sitting with Bull and Janie.
“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming today to celebrate the life of Reginald Arthur Smith, also known as Matchstick,” Morris started the ball rolling.
35
Chapter 35: Daisy
We came outside after the service and mingled, while Bull and Mom collected Dad’s kutte from where it had been strapped over the coffin. I held Amber’s hand in a death grip still.
Jim came over to me with a curious look on his face.
“Jim, I’d like you to meet my half sister, Amber,” I snapped. “She only just found out recently that we share a father.”
His eyebrows popped up like a prairie dog, but he was polite and just stretched out his hand to shake hers.
“Pleased to meet you, and uh, my condolences.”
