“Charlie.” She let out a sob and pressed a handkerchief against her face. Her eyes were bloodshot. So were my dad’s.
I glanced at my uncle, looking for an explanation.
He grimaced in apology.
My mom came walking toward me. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
I thought she was going to throw her arms around me. So, naturally, I backed out of the apartment and closed the door. I was in the parking lot when my uncle caught up with me.
“Charlie! Wait. I didn’t know they were coming.”
“I know. You would’ve told me,” I said over my shoulder.
He grabbed my arm to keep me from putting any more space between us. “They want to talk to you.”
“That’s nice,” I deadpanned as I turned to face him.
“Charlie,” my uncle said with a flat brow and a warning in his tone. “They’re your parents.”
“You’re my parent.” I tugged my arm away. “I only have thirty minutes to grab lunch and then I have to get back to work.”
“Just hear them out, would you?” He waved at the apartment building looming behind him. “They came all this way.” With a sigh, he dropped the pleading look. “I know I would be devastated if—”
“If what? You made a deal with Death herself to spare the lives of your children and then gave them up when things got hard?” I demanded. “If you asked for forgiveness a decade later and only because one of your kids allegedly committed suicide? No, you wouldn’t. Want to know why? Because you wouldn’t do anything that shitty or selfish in the first place.”
My uncle stared at the ground with his head bowed in defeat.
I took a second to breathe. I wasn’t going to let them get to me. When I was calmer, I gestured to the apartment building behind him. “They’re just feeling guilty because they think they’re the reason Jasmine killed herself. They want reassurance that they aren’t terrible people. I won’t give that to them, Vic, and neither should you.”
“What should I tell them then?”
“Tell them the truth. It’s too little, too late. They fucked up and now they have to deal with the consequences.” I unlocked my truck with the fob hanging from my keychain. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Charlie.”
I opened the door to my old Chevy and half twisted around to look at him.
“You’ll never be able to move on if you don’t forgive them,” he said softly.
“I have moved on,” I said because it was true. “I haven’t thought about them in months. I don’t look for their letters anymore. It didn’t even hurt to see them.” I tapped my chest. “I’m good. I don’t need them.” I gave a shrug and a close-lipped smile before I said, “I have you.” I climbed in and shut the door. Started the engine. Rolled down the window. Said, “I’ll see you tonight,” for the second time. Then I took off.
◆◆◆
I grabbed a sub sandwich and went to the precinct. The captain let me visit whenever I wanted. People were always filtering through the precinct; there were only a few remaining who knew me and my history. They gave me solemn nods as I passed. Everyone else ignored me. Except for the new janitor. He made it a point to smile and wave at everyone who passed through the precinct’s doors. He was a vast improvement from the last janitor, who’d turned out to be the spy working for the Velazquezes.
I saw Vanessa while I cut through the first floor, making a beeline to the stairs. Arresting the Velazquezes had earned her a promotion. She was a full-blown detective now with a partner. The two of them sat at her desk, huddled around the computer screen as they talked about their latest case. I was happy for her. The gal she’d been paired with seemed nice, young, eager to learn. Nothing would beat her temporary partnership with my uncle, but, hey, at least one of them hadn’t been forced to relocate to another precinct when they’d started dating.
Once on the roof, I sat on the parapet to eat my sandwich with my back to the glass birdhouse.
It had been turned into a zen garden since I’d moved out. It was nice, I guess, but it didn’t look like a lot of people used it. Maybe the stigma of hanging out where a girl had supposedly killed herself was too much. Which suited my purposes just fine.
I scrolled through my phone as I chewed. A ping told me I had a new email. I hesitated when I realized who it was from, but I knew Jasmine would get on my case if I ignored the new message. So I opened it up.
My dearest Charles,
I think of you daily. Every morning when I wake and hear my little Jasmine crying for me, I think of you. It’s almost like a prayer. “Thank you, Charles.” A prayer of gratitude because I know you sacrificed the most to allow us our lives as mortals, as parents. I don’t mean to be so morbid right off the bat. I just want to remind you that we, your family, still hold you in the highest esteem.
I hope you’re doing well. As well as you can be in your predicament. I hope you stay away from the hospital and walk with Esmer in the rain. I hope she’s taking care of you and you of her.
Send my love to Esmer and your uncle. Please, remind them yet again that we wish to host all of you at our home either here in Paris or our country house, whichever pleases you all. We would love to fly you all over if you would allow us. As painful as it will be, I think it’s important for you to meet our little Jasmine. So you can see the other side of Death: Life.
I don’t wish to pressure
