Page 81 of Jagged Line Paradise

Cindy Briar deserves this.

Yet one look at Lonnie’s face tells me how painful this is for her. I disconnected emotionally from my father the moment I found out what he’d done—not just what he’d done to my girl, but to so many others. I didn’t have an ounce of compassion to spare because he didn’t deserve it.

Still, I suppose there have been a handful of days over the years where I wished for a parent—someone who was there to give me support and encouragement and to love me when I needed it.

I didn’t miss my father on those days, though I missed theideaof a father. I did miss my mother. She had a good heart before she lost herself to drug use and overdosed when I was thirteen. I could blame my father for that, too. I’m certain he’s the one who got her started on that shit.

Avalon tugs the top of the blanket, smoothing it over her mother’s shoulders. The movement is so full of love and care that it punches me in the heart, forcing a double beat.

Why didI ever leave her?

Why has she been dealt thishand in life?

The urge to stand by her side and single-handedly make her life better is so overwhelming, it hurts. It’s painful because I can recognize that I might not be the man she needs.

I hurther last night.

I swallow down the fear of myself and my darkness just as I feel her eyes lift to meet mine. I hold her stare, silently promising to be there to strengthen her until she decides to pull away. She’ll realize sooner or later that she deserves better than me.

After a few beats pass, she looks at Megan. “They’ve called in hospice before. Two months ago, remember?” She looks too hopeful and it pangs me. “She was well enough to go home a week later. Maybe she’ll be fine.”

Megan sighs, then smiles, hiding the truth behind her eyes. “Maybe.” She shrugs. “You know I can’t say anymore without the doctor here.”

“I know. I just…” Her eyes dart all around the room, as if searching for something, kind of like she’s looking for magic to happen but doesn’t know where it will come from.

“Let me go hunt down Dr. Wells,” Megan says. “You know if I bug him enough, I can get him in here.”

Lonnie nods. “Thank you, Megan.”

“You want me to stay,mija?” Louisa asks.

Lonnie shakes her head. “No. No, you’ve done more than your share. Please, go home and get some rest.”

I move beside Lonnie once we’re alone.

“She looks okay, don’t you think?”

I look down at Cindy Briar andokayisn’t one of the words that comes to mind. I don’t know how to respond. I settle on saying, “I don’t know.”

“You really don’t have to stay.”

“Sunshine, I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“I’m not alone here. There’s doctors and nurses and aids…it’s really…it’s better here than it is at home.” She sounds so fucking sad.

Alone.

She’s been alone all this time.

How the fuck do I ever make that up toher?

“Do you wanna sit?”

She shakes her head. “Hospice,” she breathes out the word, testing how it sounds. “I don’t know. She was decent yesterday. I just don’t understand how it got so bad so quickly.”

There’s nothing I can say to reassure her; there’s nothing I can say that will comfort her or make any of this better. I move behind her, place my palms on her bare biceps, and rub up and down her arms. She tenses at my first touch—probably still shook and unsure from how I hurt her last night—but after a few strokes, her shoulders lower and her body sways backward toward me. I step in to catch her mid-sway, forcing her to lean back against me for support.

“I’m not upset that you’re here, you know. I mean…I’m glad that you’re here, Andrés.”

---