Three years later. …

Rampage

 

              “It’s today! It’s today Daddy!” A mess of dark hair and big blue eyes run toward the kitchen, clutching a doll for dear life. She’s smiling from ear to ear, looking exactly like Lala.

Coming to a stop in front of me, she smiles and nods enthusiastically. Patience isn’t her thing. She got that shit from me.

“It’s today, right?” She asks me again. Like she’s got to ask me. She knows. She puts her X’s on that calendar at the club ever goddamn day.

Sometimes it’s hard to look at her. She looks like Lala, yet she looks like me. She’s a perfect fucking mix of the two of us. She’s so goddamn beautiful. Everyone tells me she looks like me, but to me she’s all Lala. She’s all long dark hair and big blue eyes. She’s all sweet, perfect face, big smile, and a heart of fucking gold. She’s Lala through and through.

“Baby, yeah.” She jumps up and down a few times and squeals. Above all other days; Christmas, Halloween, Easter, even her own birthday, today is her favorite. Today is Lala’s birthday.

              “You didn’t forget the cake, did you Daddy?” Forget it? That would be fucking impossible and unlikely. She would never let me forget that shit. She’s been collecting shit at every store for the past two weeks for this day. Hell, she hasn’t stopped talking about today. I’ve been reminded every day for the past six weeks. It’s our day for Lala.

“Baby, no. I would never forget such an important thing.”

Throwing her hands out to her sides, she giggles, “Up, Daddy.” Lifting her up, I sit her on the kitchen counter, right by the cake. She looks at it and smiles up at me. That’s all Lala right there. “You put Mommy’s name on it. It’s pink and pretty, Daddy.”

She loves pink. I hate it. She loves glitter. That shit gets on every fucking thing. She loves Barbie’s. They scare me. She loves princess shit, and those too, scare the shit out of me. She loves her Mommy and I love her too.

“Next year it’ll be blue.” I tell her.

She gasps and puts her pink finger nailed hands on her hips and glares at me. “No! Me ‘n Mommy love pink,” she declares. I’ve no idea if Lala ever liked pink.

“Okay, okay.”

The familiar and comforting rumble of pipes filters in through the screen door.

“Aunty Lil ‘n Aunty Peaches ‘n Cousin Rowan ‘n Uncle Tank ‘n Cousin Ty ‘n Cousin Owen ‘n Uncle Gin ‘n Uncle Stitch are all here, Daddy,” She rambles off all their names in quick succession. How she’s not out of breath after that shit is beyond me. That was a damn mouth full.

She squeals, hopping off of the counter like a little goddamn dare devil. She’s going to give me a fucking heart attack. I swear to God, I’ll never make it to fifty at this rate.

“Hi, baby. Come give your favorite Auntie some lovins,” Lil hollers as soon as she’s inside the house, scooping Georgia up into a hug.

Peaches glares at her and throws an elbow into her side, “Hey, bitch. You’ve got your own girl. She’s mine.”

I don’t know what I would have done without them, without all of them, really. The girls helped so much with Georgia for a long time. She needed women in her life and I couldn’t have picked better ones for her. They love her so fucking much.

“Alright pretty girl. Time to go get beautiful,” Lil says.

“Auntie, will I be pretty like a princess? Cus Daddy says Mommy looks like a princess, and I wanna look like my Mommy.” Lil looks over Georgia’s shoulder at me with tears in her eyes and shakes her head, trying to pull it together. The memories still sting for her. I fucking feel that shit, too. I just shrug because I really don’t have much to say, because to me, Lala looks like a princess.

“Yes baby. You’ll look just like your Mommy and your Mommy is a princess.”

“I know,” Georgia sighs tiredly. She should know. I tell her the stories.

              Every year on Lala’s birthday, the girls take Georgia to the nail and hair place. They shop and spend too much of my money. They go to some girl doll store thing and again, spend too much damn money there, too. I spend the day the same way each year, reading and rereading that letter.

“You gonna be okay man?” Tank asks me. No. I’ll never be okay with what happened, but I’m getting there. Maybe someday I’ll let it all go.

“Yeah brother, I’ll be good.”

****

The same day every year, I pull that wrinkled and tattered piece of paper from my nightstand. It’s only been three years, but that single piece of paper has seen better days. For the first few weeks, I read it hourly. After a few months, I read it daily. A year had passed, and I vowed to read it just one day a year.

Reading it only once a year almost makes it feel like it was the first time all over again. The pain is still the same. The ache still raw and fresh when I reread her words, words I know by heart. I should stop, but I can’t let it go.

I know I’ll never be able to. I don’t fucking want to. Every time I look at my baby, I see Lala. Every time I hear the girls laughing, I hear her. Every time I get on my bike, I feel her body on mine. She’s everywhere, right where I want her to be. I don’t ever want to forget that day, no matter how fucking much it hurts.

Sitting in an old wood chair on my back porch, I pour myself a drink and kick my boots up on the railing. Slamming it back, I repeat the process. Pulling out the letter, I remind myself of the greatest love I had and ever will have.

Rampage,

I’m writing this letter to you in case something ever happens to me. Morbid, I know, but I just wanted to tell you a few things, so I guess if you’re reading this, then something did happen to me. I’m sorry.

              I want you to know that I didn’t want to leave you. I didn’t want to leave the way I did, either. I wanted to, at the very least, say goodbye. Ryan came back and said he would kill all of you, even describing what little Ty’s bedroom and blanket looked like. I couldn’t live with myself if I had led the closest thing I had ever had to a family into harm’s way. Everyone had been through enough with what had happened to Lil, and I couldn’t do that to you all. I left, hoping to lead him away. I’m sorry I was never able to say goodbye the way you deserved.

              I’m hoping by now you know about Georgia. When I left I didn’t know I was pregnant. I wouldn’t have kept her from you if I did, but I’ve done the best I can to make sure she is healthy, and I’ve had a lot of help. You will love her. She is the most beautiful child I have ever seen.

Ryan kept us away after she was born. I had to stay to keep her safe then, too, but she is yours. I promise you that. I’m sure you’re terrified, but you’ll do great with her.  She’ll love you, because I love you. You’ll love her too. You have enough love stored away for a lifetime of love for that little girl. I have no doubts in you. I know you’ll do me proud.

              I’m sorry you missed the begging of her life. I could tell you about it, though. She was the best thing you could have ever given me. Thank you for her. She was born on March ninth. She weighed six pounds and nine ounces, nineteen inches long. She came out looking exactly like she does now; exactly like you. She was perfect. She still is. I named her after your Mom because I know how much you loved her. I won’t worry if she’ll be okay with you. I know you’ll take good care of her like you did me. You say you don’t love anyone, well you will love her.

She loves to be read to. She also loves when I tell her stories about you. She enjoys walks and seeing people. She sleeps with me, so sorry, I kind of spoiled her that way. She loves bananas, but hates peas. She loves to cuddle. She goes to bed at eight and usually gets up at nine. She’s a pain to dress, she never sits still, but she looks adorable in dresses. I know it’s a lot, but you’ll be a wonderful dad.

When she’s old enough, please tell her how much I wanted her. Tell her she is the best part of the two of us. Please tell her I loved her more than life itself. Tell her how much I loved you both.

              Lastly, I hope you know how much I love you. You saved me. You made me feel safe. You showed me what it was like to have a family, and you showed me there really are wonderful people out there in the world. I learned what it was truly like to be loved unconditionally by someone. Even if it was never said, I know you loved me. I always remember the way you looked at me, and there was love there, always. I know I would have found you again. I know we would have had together forever.

              I hope you know you were my best friend. You and Georgia have my heart.

              I love you more than you will ever know.

              Lala.

              I hate this letter. I hate it so goddamn much it makes me fucking sick. Every time I read it, it makes it hard to breathe. It tears my heart up and it makes that ache worse. I relive every painful moment from the last four years. I see it all again. I feel it all again. I have to live with it all over again. I hate to read it.

Some days I’m mad at her, mad that she didn’t stay. Mad that she tried to take my chance at loving her for those years away from me when she walked out of our front door. I understand her decision to leave, we all did once we read the letter, but maybe if I did things differently, things could have been different.

I’m mad at myself for never telling her how much she changed my life, how much she meant to me. How much I fucking loved her. I’m mad it all had to fucking happen the way it did.

But most days are filled with good memories of Lala. I love her. I will gladly and happily spend the rest of my life with the terrible shit that happened because I got to spend the best part of my life being with someone who is so pure, so perfect, so amazing that I can only consider myself blessed to have known her. I would never give that time back, no matter how fucking bad it was at the end. No fucking chance.

She gave me the greatest gifts in life, a daughter and her unconditional love. And with those things, I am the luckiest motherfucker alive. With those things, I can live a life full of happiness and love, because I had Lala in my life.

****