Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
“No, it was a single car accident.”
I continue to stare at the table, wondering what the hell Iris was thinking yesterday when she decided that drinking and mixing drugs was a smart thing to do, let alone drive.
“When can you release the body?” Barbara asks.
“Tomorrow,” he says.
I nod and push my chair back before standing. I reach out and shake his hand. “Thank you. We’ll make arrangements for someone to pick her up tomorrow,” I say as if I’ve just adopted a dog from the humane society and I can’t get it right away.
Barbara follows me out, but this time she’s not on her phone barking orders at someone, but holding my arm while she cries. I know she’s feeling the loss as much as I am and it’s about to get worse. How do I look my two babies in their eyes and tell them that their mother is dead?
The drive to the girls’ house is done in silence. Barbara sits in the back next to me. She holds my hand until we pull into the driveway. The absence of Iris’s car isn’t lost on me. It dawns on me that I’ll probably have to do something with it unless the police just keep it. I don’t know the protocol for things like that.
Barbara uses her key to let us into the house. The driver sets our bags down and excuses himself. I haven’t a clue as to where he plans to go though unless sitting in the SUV is how he waits.
Willow comes running around the corner. The look on her face, before she realizes it’s me standing in the doorway, is of anger. She’s pissed that her mother isn’t home, and once it hits her that her daddy is at her front door her face morphs into a smile, and she picks up speed until she’s launching herself into my arms.
“Daddy,” she squeals in delight. She’s happy to see me, at least until I break her heart.
“Daddy, what are you doing here?” The sound of Stormy’s voice has me putting Willow down. She immediately moves into Barb’s embrace.
“Is that how you say hi?” I ask, jokingly.
Stormy comes over and wraps her arms around my waist. “Sorry, I’m just shocked and was hoping that you were Mama.”
As I suspected, the girls have spent the night fretting. “That’s why I’m here. Let’s go into the living room and talk.”
When Stormy looks at me, there are tears in her eyes. I have a feeling that she knows something has happened to her mother. Both girls sit down with Barbara in the middle of them. She’s already doting on them, and neither seems to mind. They’re going to need her. Hell, so am I.
I look at my girls, wondering how I’m going to tell them the news that is going to rock their foundation. They both stare at me expectantly as I stand in front of them. Taking a deep breath and running my hand over the top of my hat to adjust it, I muster the courage to tell my girls the worst news of their lives.
“This is really hard for me to say,” I tell them, choking up. “But your mama. . . she was. . .” I pause, needing to catch my breath. I clear my throat and shake my head as I try to find the words. “There was an accident last night, and she didn’t make it.”
I don’t know who cried first or the loudest. Both wails were enough to bring me to my knees as my arms begged for the girls that mean more than anything to me. Both collapse into my arms, both sobbing and asking why. I’ve been asking myself the same question since three this morning. Why? Why was this guy, or life she was trying to live, more important than our children? Why didn’t she call a cab? Why didn’t she stay home with the girls? These are a few of the questions that we will never have any answers to, that we will have to guess about for the rest of our lives.
I don’t know how long the girls and I sit on the floor together, but it’s the sound of the phone ringing and Barbara telling the caller that we don’t have a comment that gets us moving. As much as I don’t want the girls out of my sight, I know they need time alone. It’s Stormy who leaves first, slamming her door multiple times before letting out another wail. When I move to go to her, Barb stops me.
“Give her time, Levi.” I stare down the hall where she disappeared, wondering if Barb is right.
“Daddy?”
The sound of Willow’s voice has me turning to look at her.
“What is it, love bug?”
“Do we have to go to school?”
I shake my head. “No, you don’t. We are going to stay home and. . . and I don’t know Willow, but no school.”