Page 35 of Snow Good to Lose
I looked around the room. Mr. Sinezilio stood near the door. He frowned when my eyes landed on him.
“What’s going on?” I coughed. My father walked to the nightstand and handed me a bottle of water.
The water felt good on my scratchy throat. A drop dribbled down my chin and my world stopped. My mind halted, and a memory floated out of reach. My conscious warned me to leave it. I listened.
“First, tell me how you're feeling?” My dad sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you need to see a doctor?”
“No. I’m fine.” I was sore, but I wasn’t about to tell him. “How long have I been here?”
“You got here yesterday and have been asleep for a long time,” Dad explained. “We wanted you to get your rest.”
“It’s Christmas Eve?” I looked down.
“Yes.” Mr. Sinezilio walked and sat down in a chair in a little sitting area on the other side of the room. “We wanted to hold the ceremony tonight, but figured we’d give you another day of rest. Christmas wedding is nice, don’t you think?”
My father glared at Mr. Sinezilio, who seemed to enjoy himself.
“Christmas wedding.” I glared back. “Who’s getting married?”
I should not have asked the questions. I knew instantly I wouldn’t like the answer.
“You, my dear, are getting married.” Mr. Sinezilio smacked his lips and gave me a toothy grin. It made him look like a little boy.
The ache in my chest joined the one in my head. I gripped my forehead and crawled back under the covers.
“Sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me that.” I sat back up.
“Joseph, give us a minute, please,” My dad said to Mr. Sinezilio.
He stood up and adjusted his shirt.
“Okay, Robert, but this is happening.” He winked at me and left the room.
I rubbed my chest and closed my eyes.
“Amari.” My father stood up. “We could spend a lot of wasted time explaining the last two years to each other, but we will end up right back here. I won’t ask why you felt the need to go to such drastic measures to get away from me.”
“Drastic measures?” I sat up.
“I looked for your body in that valley for two months. I thought you were dead.” He rubbed his face. “I buried you and mourned you. I’m just glad your mother wasn’t alive . . ..”
“Don’t bring my mother into this.” I squeezed my fist together. “If my mother was alive, I wouldn’t have left. And, there is no way she would allow this.” I motioned toward the activity outside.
“Perhaps you’re right, but she’s not here and I need you to do this.”My dad walked toward the door. “None of us have a choice anymore.”
