known about her before I sang about it in front of thirty–thousand people.”
“Do you think it would have made a difference?” She brought her chin to her knees. “If I told you about Lyra when you went to London, do you think we’d be here right now?”
I thought about her question. If she had called me when I was in London, I would have hopped on the first plane over. I would have thrown it all away. “I have no idea.” I let my fingers run through the guitar as a melody began to form. “I had a conversation with Pop a year ago and he told me, What is today might not be a year from now . You were married then, trying to have a baby, and I was lost without you”
“Now look were we are.” She inhaled the crisp air that was laced with ocean mist. “I’m a twenty–six–year–old divorcee with cancer. Wow, what a difference a year makes.”
“Yep, I’m your roommate and we’re drinking really expensive grape juice.” I winked at her. “The circumstances might suck, but we are at a better place than we were a year ago.”
“You don’t hate me as much?”
I stretched my arms over my head and leaned back on the chair. “I don’t know how to hate you, Em.” I run my hand against the grain of my beard. “I tried very hard to hate you, but after being unsuccessful for so long, I decided to stop fighting it. You’re the mother of my child. You’re my yellow gel.”
“I have my port surgery on Wednesday.” She shrugged.
“When do you start chemo?”
“The following Monday.” She reached for her wine and took a few sips. “Lyra starts ballet that Thursday and she’s been so excited about it. I don’t want to miss it.”
“I’ll be there through the whole thing.” I reached across and took her hand in mine.
I’d fight until my very last breath to give her anything she needed.
10
W ednesday morning , I woke up early to make breakfast and pack Lyra's lunch for school. I’d mastered where Emilia kept everything in her kitchen, quickly realizing it was the same layout as the one she had in her apartment many years ago.
I sipped my coffee, looking out at the dark ocean. The sun wasn't high enough yet to make much visible, but I knew it would be another beautiful, sunny day. I exhaled all my fears and prepared myself for the day we were about to embark on. Emilia was strong, and though she probably didn’t get much sleep the night before, she looked refreshed as she and Lyra joined me in the kitchen.
“Pancakes!” Lyra skipped to the table. “Good morning, Daddy.”
“Morning.” I walked over to Lyra and kissed the top of her head.
“You know, you're really starting to spoil us.” Emilia smiled at me as she pulled a water bottle from the fridge. She smiled. That was a good thing. I would take a smile over tears. Though the circumstances were terrible, I was finally living the life I wanted with the girls I loved most. “How'd you sleep?” I asked Emilia.
She shrugged and took a sip of her water, her eyes avoiding mine. “Good.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Not now.” She pulled out a chair and sat next to Lyra. “Sit. We have some time to kill and all this bacon won’t eat itself.” She played with her food, but she wasn’t allowed to eat after midnight. Lyra giggled and did the same thing.
Filling my plate with bacon, I said, “She’s like a mini you.”
Emilia’s smile grew wider. “And she has your eyes.”
“Aren’t kids supposed to look like their parents?” Lyra asked.
I chuckled and Emilia responded. “Yes, that’s very true. But a long time ago, way before you was born, your dad said how he wanted a little girl who looked just like me.”
“And your mom said she would have my eyes.” I opened my eyes wider and Lyra did the same. Emilia shook her head and rolled her eyes. When she didn’t finish the rest of the conversation, I finished it for her. “And here you are now. You look just like your mom and you have my eyes. And you know