Page 38 of Dominate
Mostly her touch.
She was always wonderful. And she loved my father, even in the end. If she could forgive him, so should I.
“She was a great mum,” I croak, tears sliding freely down my face.
“The best,” Dad replies, swiping at his own tears. “And you’ll be a great dad because you’re just like her.”
His comment has my head turning to look at him. “I’m a ways off from being a dad, don’t you think?”
He shakes his head. “I’m in no position to give you advice, Gareth. But I do wonder if during your pursuit of being better than me, you might be ignoring your own path.”
My brows knit together as I try to make sense of his last statement. “What the bloody hell do you mean by that?”
He smiles knowingly and replies like what he’s stating is one hundred percent factual and there’s not a shred of doubt in his mind. “You love her, Gareth. You may not know it yet, but I do.”
THE ENTIREHARRIS FAMILY ANDour plus-ones stand in a semi-circle on the beach, all dressed in white per Vi’s request. My brothers and sister are clutching pieces of paper with our eulogies that Vi asked each of us to prepare. Apparently, we’re going to put the messages in a bottle and send them out to sea at the end. None of this is something I’m comfortable with in the slightest. The truth is, I’ve never even been comfortable enough to visit Mum’s gravesite. But I will do pretty much anything for Vi, so here I stand with my bloody paper.
Hayden is crouched down in the sand helping Vi as she fusses over a wreath of white lilies that’s laying over top of a small, wooden raft. Rocky is in Tanner’s arms, tugging on his beard as we all wait patiently for Vi to begin.
Once she has the wreath arranged the way she wants it, she turns and nods at Camden and Booker, who bend over to pick up the raft. They walk it out into the water and push it far enough so the tide carries it away. Eventually, Cam and Booker return to the group, and we have a moment of silence as it floats farther and farther out to sea.
After the moment of silence, Vi turns on her heel and stands to face us with the ocean at her back. She fights her blonde hair whipping across her face in the wind as she reads from her sheet of paper.
“When I was researching the funeral traditions of West Africa, I learned that many of the cultures here feel that the concepts of life and death are not separate. They say that when you’re healthy and well, you are living a lot. When you are ill or dying, you are living a little.
“I like that thought because, when it comes to the Harris family, no matter how hard things were for us without Mum around or how difficult life got, no one could look at us and say we weren’t living a lot. We lived, and we laughed, and we loved through the pain. Through missing Mum. Through not knowing her well enough before she died. Through growing up together and looking out for each other, no matter what.
“Some look at me and think it’s sad that I grew up without a mother. But that is because they don’t know the four men standing in front of me. No girl in the world is as lucky as I was growing up. The years I’ve spent yelling at you four and scolding you for making bad choices or interfering in my personal life too much have been some of the best years of my life. It’s like Mum knew I would need all of you.”
Vi pauses as she covers her mouth to hide her quiet sobs while Hayden wraps a soothing arm around her. Right on cue, Rocky calls out from Tanner’s arms, “Mummy okay?”
Vi laughs a tearful, contented laugh and nods. “Mummy’s okay.” She walks over to hold Rocky and brings her back to her spot in the sand, clutching her against her chest for comfort before continuing, “Those years with my brothers are second only to the day I became a mother myself.” She turns her eyes to our father. “And Dad, watching you fall in love with my daughter has made me so grateful to have you here with all of us. I know you’re hard on yourself about the past, but I have a feeling the best is yet to come for you.”
Dad smiles a sad smile as tears fill his eyes.
“As for you, Mum”—Vi looks up at the sky—“I’ve decided that being sad about your passing would be living only a little, and I want to live a whole hell of a lot. So, thank you for sharing your name, your birthday, and your love of cooking with me. And thank you for these four brothers of mine. No one can say you didn’t live a lot, Mummy. No one.”
With a tearful smile, Vi walks over to Dad with her piece of paper and hands it to him. He carefully rolls the sheet up and bends to pick up a corked, green glass bottle from the sand. He pops out the cork and slides the sheet inside before wrapping Vi in a long, tight hug. We all watch the emotional display of Vi crying on Dad’s shoulder, none of us able to hold back our own tears any longer.
Sloan’s small hand in mine feels like a tugboat rescuing a giant ship from the sea. How she’s able to comfort me with her gentle calmness at such a difficult time doesn’t seem possible. She rests her head on my shoulder and gently runs her hand up and down my arm in smooth strokes. I’m glad she’s here. Standing here alone would have been ten times harder as I look at my brothers comforting their partners.
Everyone has someone now. Even me.
Vi finally pulls back from Dad and swipes at the tears on her face. “Who wants to go next?”
Booker instantly steps forward, his hand leaving Poppy’s as he moves to take Vi’s place. Vi gives him an encouraging rub on his shoulder as he clears his throat and unfolds his paper.
“I didn’t know Mum as well as most of you did. I was only one when she passed and, sadly, my memories don’t go back that far. So I never knew her face or how she smelled. I don’t recall anything other than what you guys have told me and what I’ve seen in photos. But the thing I do share with our mum is an understanding of how incredibly hard it would be to feel poorly when you have a baby to care for. My son is still tucked safely away, but I already feel a tremendous sense of responsibility for him. And I can’t wait for the day I get to meet him. See him. Hold him. Smell him. Knowing that Mum had that time taken away from her is awful to think about. But I’ve seen the way Poppy’s eyes light up when our son kicks inside her stomach, or when he gets the hiccups and does what babies do in the womb. She’s so in love with him and she hasn’t even laid eyes on him yet. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m grateful Mum and I at least had those moments together because, from what I can tell, they are very special indeed.”
Booker tugs on his earlobe awkwardly before handing his message off to Dad to deposit inside the bottle. He pauses and pulls a small black and white photo out of his back pocket and hands it over to Dad. “This is one of our first ultrasound photos. I’d like it in there as well.”
Dad smiles a wobbly smile and wraps the photo inside Booker’s note. He hugs Booker quickly and before Booker passes me by, I pull him in to a hug as well. His shoulders tremble beneath my embrace and he pulls back to look at me, his eyes red-rimmed and glossy. His voice is quiet enough for only me to hear when he says, “Truthfully, Gareth, the best memories of my childhood all include you. I hope you know that.”
His dark eyes are round and wary, obviously still thinking about everything that was said last night and unaware that Dad and I have talked.
“I know that, Booker. I know.” I pull him into another hug and clap his back a few more times. “Thank you for saying that, though.”
He nods and looks down as he steps away from me to resume his position next to Poppy.
