Page 18 of Parrish

“Lace,” I murmur as she starts down the steps.

Reaching the walkway, she strides towards me and for a moment she’s not a grown woman.

She’s my little girl.

Always my little girl.

“Danny’s looking for his baseball glove,” she says, pausing in front of my bike.

Unlike her brother, Lacey knew I was making a deal with the district attorney. Of course, she wasn’t expecting me to go away for the next thirteen years but like everything else, she’s been handling it silently.

“C’mere,” I beckon, spreading my arms wide as I dismount. She rushes into my embrace and holds tight—just like she did when she was a kid.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispers against my chest.

“Better me than him,” I say, kissing the top of her head.

She doesn’t argue and I’m grateful for that. Don’t get me wrong, I know she’s going to miss me and that she hates the idea of either me or Blackie doing time, but with a baby on the way she is thankful her husband will be free and knowing I’m giving my daughter security, well, that makes this shit somewhat worthwhile.

The motherfucker just better get himself clean.

She pulls back tilting her head back to stare up at me.

“Doesn’t make it fair,” she says. “If anything, it’s cruel. I should be able to have my father and my husband.”

Life ain’t fair but she knows that.

If life was fair, she would’ve been spared my illness. Instead, she’s just as fucked as me if not more.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” she adds, her eyes filling with tears. “The thought of not being able to see or talk to you whenever I want terrifies me. I don’t know how to do this without you, dad.”

Narrowing my eyes, I lift her chin and force her gaze back to me.

“Stop it,” I order. “You never needed me to fight, Lacey. You were born a warrior and when that bitch of a mind tells you otherwise, remember this, you’re my daughter and though we’re a bit touched in the head, we don’t lose to the crazy, we fucking kick its ass.”

“Is that why you stopped taking your meds?” she asks.

If there was a loaded question, it’s that one. The truth is, I quit taking the meds because of my pride. It’s one thing to be crazy, it’s another to have your wife peel you from the bathroom floor and carry you to bed like a fucking invalid because the pills you pop to keep yourself sane make you physically ill. Fuck that shit. I want Reina to look back and remember the man who fucked her until she collapsed and loved her so much, he often thought he was invincible, not some sorry bastard who couldn’t control his bodily functions or his failing mind.

However, I didn’t realize how bad of an example I might’ve been setting for my daughter. Now that she’s expecting and is being forced off her meds, I’m worried about her. It’s no lie that Lacey is strong, but pregnancy is hard on a woman. Their hormones are raging all over the fucking place, add a fragile mind and it’s a cocktail for disaster.

Before I can find the right words to answer her question, she looks away and touches her hand to her flat belly.

“Aren’t you scared what will happen? That you’ll not only be trapped in a cell but also confined to your mind?”

Cocking my head to the side, I study her profile.

“Are we still talking about me?” I question, watching as she lifts her gaze to me. Drawing her lower lip between her teeth she shakes her head.

“I’m scared,” she admits. “I don’t remember what it’s like not to wake up and take Lithium, Dad. All I know is it’s a dark, dark place. Somewhere an innocent child doesn’t belong.”

There is no point in arguing. Lacey knows firsthand what happens when a manic depressive goes untreated. She was there the day I lost my mind and like me, she witnessed the tragedy that ensued as a result. Junior’s death doesn’t only haunt me, it tortures Lacey too. She was just five years old when she watched her baby brother get hit by a car. I bet if she closes her eyes real tight and tries hard enough, she’ll even remember pleading with me to snap out of it.

There was no saving Junior then because there was no saving me. When Lacey thinks of giving up, when she questions herself as a mother, all she’s gotta do is remember that day.

“You’ll get through it,” I promise. “As soon as the baby is born, you’ll go back on your meds and you’ll be the best mother a child could hope for.”

I just wish I could be part of it.

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