Page 93 of Notes About Vodka

"Well, then I can't wait until tomorrow.”

After Val kisses me goodbye, I take my family to the 9/11 Memorial.

The warmth of syrup and coffee from the diner is replaced by the crisp air of the cool November day. The past few nights have been milder than normal, but predictions suggest there will be snow soon.

At the memorial, we walk quietly through the somber space, reading names. The sound of water cascading into the memorial pools creates a gentle, rhythmic backdrop, while the chill in the air bites at our cheeks. The faint scent of damp stone mixes with the fragrance of white roses placed in carved names, each one a silent tribute to a lost life.

Even Leigha is subdued, her usual sarcasm replaced by quiet contemplation. The wind whips through the plaza, carrying with it the faint scent of incoming rain and the hushed conversations of other visitors paying their respects.

"So, this is where the towers stood," Daddy says softly, his voice thick with emotion. "I remember watching the news that day. It didn’t feel real. I was at work at the tire factory when we all watched it in the break room."

"Yeah," I murmur, linking my arm with his. "It still doesn’tsometimes. I was in algebra class and even though I saw the evidence, it's hard to wrap your head around."

"I don’t know how people can come here and not cry," Leigha says, wiping under her sunglasses. "It’s like the air is heavier. You can feel the sadness."

Barbara stands a few steps away, her gaze fixed on the endless cascade of water in the memorial pools. "It makes you remember what's important," she says quietly. "Family, love, the little moments."

We spend a few more minutes there, reading more names and watching people pass us by. The silence feels heavy, like a weighted blanket of remembrance. I wonder if it will feel this way years later.

After the 9/11 memorial, we head to a bustling shopping district. The change in atmosphere is stark, from reflective silence to the chaotic energy of tourists and locals alike. Street performers play upbeat jazz on the corner, and the smell of roasted nuts and hot pretzels wafts through the air.

"Okay, Barbara," Daddy jokes as we step into a boutique, "remember the suitcase limit."

"What suitcase limit?" Barbara replies with a wink, draping a scarf around her neck. "This one’s definitely coming home with me."

Leigha laughs, trying on a floppy hat and striking a dramatic pose in front of a mirror. "Do I look mysterious or just ridiculous?"

"A little of both," I tease, snapping a picture on my phone but also worrying about how much daddy is about to spend. "I'll send that to Val. He'll love the look."

We weave in and out of shops, Leigha collecting random souvenirs she'll likely forget about in a month, and Barbara eyeing every piece of jewelry she sees.

As we pass a quiet park, Daddy clears his throat. "Have you seen your mom lately?" he asks, voice carefully casual.

I stop mid-stride and turn to face him. "Why do you care?" My words come out sharper than I intended.

"I just...wondered," he says, holding up his hands defensively.

I sigh, “No…I haven’t seen her much recently. James has been traveling between Philadelphia and New Haven to help out," I say, crossing my arms. "And I know I should be doing more, but… I just don’t know how.”

Daddy steps forward and pulls me into a tight hug. My breath catches, my mind racing with conflicting emotions—surprise, confusion, and a hint of warmth. We haven’t shared a moment like this in years, and I don’t know whether to relax or pull away.

I stiffen for a moment, surprised by the gesture, then let myself sink into it. The familiar scent of his aftershave, a mix of pine and something sharp and musky, tugs at memories I usually avoid.

My chest tightens, and tears prick the back of my eyes as I fight the urge to cry.

I give in and tears pour out on his shirt when daddy goes into a speech, "I'm sorry, kid. I'm sorry life isn't the big daydream you want it to be, yet. But I'm proud of you for making your life here, not staying stuck in Hurtsboro. You are meant for great things Laura. You are this family’s rising star. And as much as it hurts to not have you at home, keep moving forward. I’m not going to even ask about Sam. You know how I feel about that asshole. I’m just glad that you found someone who looks at you like you are the sun. Val seems like a good man. Now, let’s catch up to those women of ours.” My dad hugs me so tight it hurts but feels good at the same time.

I’ve missed your bear hugs, Daddy.

“Before I forget, I do need to tell you though our church folks still miss your voice and piano playing. When you come home, you better have a piece prepared."

I swallow hard, my eyes stinging. "Thanks, Daddy."

“Now, go gather your mom and sister while I take a moment to rest these old legs.”

I laugh a little bit. “Okay, be right back.”

While I go into the lingerie store to retrieve Barbara and Leigha, Daddy finds a bench and strikes up a conversation with a man who turns out to be from Birmingham, which really is not that far from home in Russell County.

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