Chapter 47

forty-seven

LIAM

I pulled my jacket closer as an ice-cold nor'wester tore across the cemetery. I trembled, not from the cold, but from the fear twisting my stomach into knots.

I'd visited my daughter's grave six months ago, stood in the same spot, dreading the pilgrimage along the narrow gravel path. But this time, I wasn't alone. My dad was beside me, staring in front of us as if we were on our way to hell.

"Are you ready?" my dad asked.

I stepped forward, sheltering the pale pink roses I was holding from the wind. The top of Lacey's white granite headstone glowed in the mid-morning sunshine, beckoning us forward.

The headstone was the only thing Victor and I had agreed on in years. Even now, my heart tore in two when I saw the sleeping angel, her arms folded under her head, a gentle smile softening her face for eternity.

My dad's footsteps slowed.

I wondered if he felt the same sense of dread. Nothing would ever bring Lacey back. Being here only made my grief more real. My daughter's death more tragic.

Time stood still, frozen as solid as the path we walked along. I remembered the sound of Lacey's laughter, the way my heart would pound when she wrapped her arms around me and whispered that she loved me.

Hot tears scalded my eyes. Images of Lacey's funeral stuck in my mind. It had been as cold as today, biting into my grief and tearing me in two. As the small white coffin was lowered into the ground, my broken heart temporarily paralyzed the guilt that had sent me into a spiral of depression. In its place, a hollow, shadow of who I was had emerged. Unable to love or be loved, I'd retreated behind a rainbow of multi-colored drugs. They'd blocked the pain but left nothing in their place.

"Merry Christmas, baby girl." Tears fell down my face as I lay the roses against Lacey's headstone.

My dad's arm gripped my waist. We stood side by side, like bruised and beaten warriors, guarding a precious treasure.

"I come here most weeks," my dad whispered.

I wiped my face. "I didn't know."

James took a deep breath. "At first, I didn't want Lacey to be lonely. Then slowly, everything changed. I started coming here for me. It helped…with my grief. In the summer, I read her stories. I built her a small snowman last week."

"She would have loved that." Lacey adored snowmen. She'd spent hours outside, creating entire families from mounds of snow.

"You don't think I'm crazy?"

I was surprised by my dad's question. "Why would I think that? "

James blew his nose. "I spent most of my life telling you it was wrong to show people how you felt. When your mom died, I was broken. When Lacey died, it nearly killed me. I thought…" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter what I thought. Lacey's gone, and I nearly lost you, too."

"I saw a counselor for six months after Lacey died. I needed help."

"Did it work?"

I nodded. "I was able to go back to work. By the time my divorce came through, I was able to sleep all night without medication."

"Are you better now?"

"I have good days and some that aren't so good. What about you?"

James stared at Lacey's headstone. "I get by. Your aunt checks on me most weeks. I have my friends, I volunteer at the local library. It's enough for now."

I'd never thought about my dad getting older, the changes his body would force on him. "You don't have to stay in Chicago. You could live in Boulder with me."

"Aren't you moving to Milwaukee?"

"I don't know. It's complicated."

"It always is when you care about someone."

I stuck my hands in my pockets. Paul was worried that if a relationship between us didn't work, I would have moved for no reason. I was willing to take that risk, but I didn't want to hurt Amy.

James knelt on the ground, wiping the snow from Lacey's headstone. "Sometimes you have to trust that loving a person is enough. Whatever's supposed to happen, will follow."

I hoped my dad was right. Because, so far, my track record for successful relationships was dismal.