Holy shit, she had grown. She had gone from hot girl to gorgeous woman. Something old, something dormant stirred in me.

Oh no, no.

A horn sounded, and I snapped out of it, pulling my car back into my lane. Shit. I had been so into her, I almost drove off the road and onto the sidewalk.

Jessica’s head snapped toward the sound, but Luna tugged on the leash, pulling her to the side and into a subdivision.

I pulled over and watched as she ran away from me. A fight against the will to go after her ensued in me, and I had to say, I was almost losing. She looked too beautiful in that bra top and those tight pants. I could tell my mind she was dead to me, but my body was reacting in a whole different way.

I inhaled deeply and let my head rest on my seat. When I grabbed the steering wheel, I saw my hands shaking. Damn it.

Besides being now super late for work, I knew I wouldn’t be able to get Jessica out of my head. Her presence here, and inside my mind, would mess with everything, with all my progress.

I punched the wheel again, as if the action would calm me down.

So much for staying out of her way.

***

Jessica

Mama’s hand slid into my own, holding tight, as we walked down the corridor. The white walls, the white furniture, the white dressed doctors, it made me dizzy, more than the antiseptic smell that clouded the air.

“Relax, honey.” Mama squeezed my hand. “It’s going to be okay.”

Easy for her to say. She wasn’t the one who held a locked steel box inside her heart with all the rage and frustration and disappointment Papa was part of.

As soon as we entered his room, I knew that box would explode, and I didn’t want it to. I didn’t want to deal with those feelings yet. I didn’t want to deal with those feelings at all.

I closed my eyes for a second and reminded myself why I was here. For Mama. It was because of Mama.

At the door, we stopped briefly.

Mama turned to me. “Ready?”

I took a deep breath and nodded.

She opened the door and I stepped inside. My father was sleeping in the bed in the center of the room, wires and IVs hooked up to his arms and chest. He looked vulnerable and thin. His black hair was almost gone, and his skin was pale.

My eyes filled with tears. I knew cancer patients practically faded away in the terminal stages, but I didn’t expect to see him so weak. Not yet. He had never, ever been weak. Exactly the opposite. He had raised my brother and me with a firm hand and lots of discipline.

Though I knew he loved me growing up, it wasn’t easy.

“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that, young lady?” he asked each time I wore what I had considered normal clothes: fitted jeans or short skirts or V-neck tops. To him, my clothes should be loose and the skirts had to cover my knees.

At some point, it became a game. I dressed the way he wanted me to, until I was out the door. I always had a change of clothes inside my purse or in the tree house or in my locker. I ditched the baggy shirts and dressed like other girls my age.

Another issue was boys. Oh, gosh, if Papa caught a boy staring at me, poor guy. He would hear it for the next century, which was part of the reason Jason’s friends were wary of coming into the same room as me. When we were younger, it was okay. We were innocent kids, just playing around. But once we grew up, once I was a teenager, it all changed. Papa gave them all a hard time.

With Jason, Papa complained about the bikes, the races, the leather jackets, the bandanas, and the parties.

“Don’t you think it’s time you sold that motorcycle and grew up?” he asked Jason almost every day. It didn’t matter if he was only seventeen and still a boy. To Papa, he should already be a responsible man, like he was at his age.

Deep down, I knew Papa meant well. He wanted the best for us, even if his views and values were a little outdated. However, his views and values had gotten us in the situation we were now.

Mama put her hand on my shoulder, making me focus on the helpless man in the bed, the weak man hooked up to machines to keep him alive.

It was sad how the life of someone so energetic could change so suddenly and radically.

“He’s been sleeping more and more,” Mama said.

I opened my mouth to ask her something when a nurse stepped into the room. “Good afternoon.”

“Hi, Debbie,” Mama greeted her. Of course, she probably knew the name of every nurse and doctor and employee in the hospital. “How’s he doing?”

“Sleeping most of the time,” the nurse said, walking to my father’s bed. “He woke up only a couple of times, complained about pain and the food, and slept again.”

Mama chuckled. Even when dying, Papa complained about the food. The only food he ever ate without complaint was Mama’s. In fact, he even complimented her cooking a couple of times, which was a lot coming from him.

“We’ll stay a little, if that’s okay?”

The nurse smiled. “Sure.” She checked his monitors and whatever else and then left.

I looked around the small room, uncomfortable with the situation, uncomfortable with being here, with Papa. I sat on the worn sofa along the wall. “What do you do when you’re here?”

Mama sat beside me. “Just keep him company and pray he’ll wake up and remember me, so we can talk a little.”

“He forgets you?”

She nodded, her tired eyes on me. “Yes. His mind is not the same. It’s a miracle when he remembers anything at all.”

That was so sad. Sad and alarming.

“So, he doesn’t remember me? And, uh, about our past?”

She averted her eyes and sighed. “When he remembers things, that’s the first one on his list.”

Did I really have any hopes he wouldn’t remember any of it? More importantly, did I want him to forget? To him, I was guilty. To me, he was guilty. Even if he wasn’t dying and we had all the time in the world, we would never fix this.

***

“Whose car is that?”

Mama drove the truck into our driveway and parked beside a white Mazda. She spied at the window. “I don’t know.”

I exited the truck and walked around it, just as two people exited the other car. Two girls. My girls.

My heartbeat accelerated as I recognized Rachel and Sophie.

They smiled and ran to me. I opened my arms and welcomed their bear hug. We became one bundle, jumping up and down and screaming in each other’s ears.

After a long time, I pulled back and took them in. Sophie was still my height, but thinner than she was four years ago. Her huge green eyes contrasted with the black eyeliner and mascara, and her straight blond hair hung to her shoulders. Rachel was still taller than I was, with fuller boobs and rounder hips. A real Spanish guitar. Her round brown eyes shone with curiosity, and a big mouth and full lips pulled into a big smile. Her long curly brown hair fell down her back.

I blinked back happy tears. “Wow, I can’t believe you guys are here!”

“We can’t believe you are here!” Sophie said.

“And you didn’t tell us!” Rachel added.

“I’m sorry.” I held their hands. “I’m not sure what I was thinking. Maybe I thought you guys would have moved. I don’t know really. I’m sorry.”

Sophie winked. “You’re forgiven.”

“But just because you’ll be here for three months!” Rachel squealed.

“Where’s Faith?” I asked about our other friend.

“She moved to California before our senior year,” Sophie said. “We still talk to her online or through emails, but it’s not the same.”

I nodded, knowing all too well what distance could do to a friendship.

“Girls.” Mama, who had entered the house and we hadn’t even seen it, appeared at the front door. “Come inside. I have tea and some other things.”

“Hmm, how I missed your mom’s ‘other things.’” Rachel did air quotes with her fingers, then hooked her arm through mine.