EPILOGUE
CHANNING
My mother’s arms were open wide. “Hi! Hi, you beautiful, precious thing. What’s your name?”
“Lainey.”
“Lainey! That’s such a beautiful name.” She beamed. “And how old are you, Lainey?”
“I’m free.”
“Three?”
She held up three fingers. “Free.”
“Would you like a piece of candy?”
Lainey nodded enthusiastically.
“Just one,” Amber warned.
Mom reached in her drawer for a peppermint starlight mint and handed it to our daughter.
Amber helped remove the wrapper and said, “What do you say, Lainey?”
“Thank you, Gamma.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
This was probably the twentieth time that my mother had met her granddaughter for “the first time.” Lainey was a good sport and just went along with it, always welcoming the grand reception she got. Mom always gave her candy, too, so naturally, Lainey was thrilled with that. We told her that Grandma can’t remember things, but I’m not sure she fully understood. Either way, she never seemed to mind being doted on with the same enthusiasm each visit. It was hard to watch, and at the same time, it was beautiful to see my mother’s joy repeated over and over.
Mom’s condition deteriorated significantly over the years. Her dementia had an atypically fast progression. We tried to keep her at home for as long as possible, but it became too difficult to give her the care she needed, especially after the baby came. We got her into a facility close to home, though, and thankfully, they seemed to be taking really good care of her. Several necklaces adorned her neck. Her hair was done up nice, and her nails were always freshly painted. The women who worked there really made sure she looked and smelled good.
I visited her every single day without fail. Amber and I would only take Lainey to see her occasionally, since that was always an emotionally draining experience.
Our daughter was conceived a year after Amber and I got married. Since we weren’t using condoms anymore and Amber could never handle the pill, we just paid close attention to her cycle, leaving things somewhat up to fate. And fate brought us Lainey sooner than we’d anticipated.
My mother caressed her granddaughter’s pigtails. “You remind me of someone. You know that?”
Lainey looked just like her namesake—my sister—and even though my mother couldn’t figure out the connection, it was comforting to know that on some level, she remembered.
“Mom, we have to go, but I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”
My mother smiled. “Well, aren’t you nice.”
It definitely hurt when she didn’t remember me. Most days she didn’t realize why I was coming to visit her aside from me being “some nice guy.” That didn’t matter; I would still be there for her in the same way that I would if she were a hundred percent aware.
We hugged my mother goodbye before making our way home.
As we drove down the road, Amber turned to me.
“Guess who’s getting married?”
“Who?”
“Rory.”
“No shit?”
“Yup.”
I knew Amber still kept in touch with Rory. He’d moved out to Seattle for work, and about a year ago, he’d told her he met someone, a widow with three kids he’d taken on as his own. He seemed genuinely happy, and that definitely gave Amber some peace.
“Well, good. I’m happy for him,” I said.
She smiled. “Me, too.”
As we continued to drive, we encountered a traffic jam, and it didn’t take long to figure out why. Turned out, the carnival was in town. We had taken a different route home, so we hadn’t passed it on the way to see Mom. But it was no surprise. I’d seen the signs posted all over recently.
This wasn’t just any carnival. It was the carnival, the same yearly fair where the accident happened eleven years ago. I’d passed it before over the past couple of years, but never with Lainey in the car.
She pressed her little finger up against the window. “Mama! I want to go! I want to go!”
My stomach dropped as fear filled Amber’s eyes. I knew she wanted to give in to our daughter’s request. The only thing holding her back was me, or rather her fear of my freaking out. Amber would never suggest we stop unless I insisted.
It was true that I hadn’t been able to stomach the idea of visiting a carnival since my sister’s death. Aside from the brief experience in Boston with Milo, I’d managed to avoid them altogether. But I was a father now, and my daughter deserved to visit the carnival if that was what she really wanted. It wasn’t fair to allow my fear to affect her life.
My attitude had also changed somewhat over the past few years. Mom’s illness had taught me that life was too short to live in fear. Yes, accidents happen, but you couldn’t spend your life worrying about the possibility of tragedy. Life was hard enough. I knew it was now or never.
“We can go to the carnival, baby.”
Amber looked shocked to hear me say that. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I need to do this for her.”
She placed her hand on mine. “Okay.”
One foot in front of the other.
That’s what I told myself as we entered the fairgrounds. Yes, I was terrified, but all it took was one look at my little girl’s face to calm me down somewhat. She’d never been to anything like this before. Her eyes were flitting all over the place as she took in the sights and sounds.
That was when it hit me. I had two choices. Freak out or calm the fuck down and share some damn cotton candy with my daughter. I chose the latter.
We ended up playing some games, and Amber took Lainey on a few of the kiddie rides—you know, the ones that were safely planted on the ground.
Right when we were about to leave, Lainey pointed to the Ferris wheel. “I wanna go up! Up!”
“Next time, Lainey,” she was quick to say.
Was I really going to prevent my daughter from enjoying a ride on the Ferris wheel because of my fear? Yes, I was more comfortable with all of us on the ground, but the guilt of denying her that experience was eating away at me. I knew that would be wrong.
I pushed the words out, “Why don’t we all go?”
Amber’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” I swallowed hard. “The three of us.”
Amber looked stunned but really proud. “Okay.”
If ever I could take a step like this it was going to be today. Both of my girls were my strength. With them by my side and the knowledge that my sister’s spirit was with us, I could do anything.
I’m not gonna lie. My heart was definitely pounding as we got situated in the seat and locked in the handle bar. The only real anxiety was on the first go-round. After that, it got progressively easier. Lainey would wave to the people on the ground. With my daughter’s laughter in the air, it wasn’t so bad.
This Ferris wheel ride was like the story of my life—a little scary with ups and downs but exhilarating and fun at the same time.
Suddenly, Lainey did something she hadn’t ever done before. When the Ferris wheel stopped, she was hiccuping from all of the laughing—just like Amber.
Yup. My life had come full circle—with a few hiccups along the way.