The Family Business 3(64)

Daryl





44


With Connie gone, it was good to be around people I considered family. I needed to be surrounded by those who loved me to help me cope with Connie’s passing. In her, I’d lost not only a lover but my best friend. Of course, nothing could completely erase the pain of her death, but being around the Duncans helped ease it just a little. Putting my foot in this Brother X’s ass for what he did to LC was going to help me channel my emotions even more. I had stayed by Connie’s side the same way I knew she would have done for me, and now it was time for me to be there for the Duncans when they needed me most. They’d done the same for me in the past.

Call me corny, but as I sat on a lounge chair by the pool, listening to the birds in the trees and feeling the soft breeze on my face, I felt like Connie’s spirit was right there with me. It was really peaceful, until I felt a shadow over me. My eyes flew open, and I was instantly on high alert.

“What’s up, stranger?” I relaxed when I realized it was just Paris standing over me.“I didn’t even hear you come out,” I said.

“Yeah, you looked like you were miles away. On an island in Paradise or something.”

“Far from it. I was thinking about my deceased wife.”

“That’s a little morbid.” She smiled and licked her lips. “You should be thinking about a hot body like mine, not a cold one.”

Leave it to Paris to say something inappropriate. She had always been like a bratty little sister to me, though I will admit her comment was almost crossing the line. “Damn, girl. I see your mouth hasn’t changed one bit, has it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, if everything goes down how it’s supposed to, we’re all going out to celebrate later on tonight. I just wanted to see if you wanted to go out and have a drink with us.”

“Drink?” I said, looking her up and down. “Are you even old enough to drink?”

“Yeah,” she said with her usual sassy attitude. “Daryl, I’m not a child. I have a baby.”

It seemed like just yesterday she was running around in braces. “I must be getting old.”

“Well, you wouldn’t believe some of the things I’m old enough to do. I wouldn’t mind telling you—or should I say showing you—after you buy me that drink.” She was like a little girl trying to act grown.

I chuckled at her antics, imagining her as the young, pigtail-wearing girl I once knew. “P, I just lost my wife. I’m not even thinking about being with a woman, least of all one I consider to be a little sister.”

She threw her hands on her hips and pulled down her dark sunglasses just enough to reveal her eyeballs. “Hmmm, we’re going to have to do something about this ‘little sister’ thing, aren’t we?”

“Not if I have anything to do with it.” I laughed her off.

“We’ll see about that,” she said and then turned to leave.

I shook my head as I watched her switch her hips back into the house.

“Mommy, watch me on the swings!” I saw London’s little girl come out of the house, skipping past Paris.

“Okay, honey. I see you,” London replied, trailing behind the little girl as she hopped on the swing set. London stood there for a minute, watching her, then made her way over to me.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey yourself,” I replied. “What’s your little girl’s name? She’s cute.”

“This one is Mariah. The other one is Maria,” she told me.

I laughed. “You always said you were going to have a little girl one day, and here you have two.”

There was a moment of awkward silence and tension between us. Thankfully, Mariah’s little voice cut through. “Mommy, you see me?”

“I’m watching, baby,” London shouted over to her. She stood there and stared at Mariah for a moment, but I knew she was only doing so to keep from looking at me.

I almost thought our conversation was over, but then, with her back still to me, she said, “You know, I was really broken up when I heard . . . when I thought that you had died. I can’t remember the last time I cried that hard.” She finally turned to look at me. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

“I appreciate that.”

Again an awkward silence fell. There was so much unsaid between us, but maybe enough time had passed that we should just leave it all as water under the bridge.

“So, how’s married life?” I asked in an attempt to steer the conversation to safer subjects.

“Um, it has its ups and downs, but for the most part it’s good.” She shrugged. Not exactly a glowing endorsement. “I heard Vegas tell Mommy you were married.”

“I was. My wife passed away a few days ago. Cancer.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Daryl. I’m so sorry to hear that. Are you all right? You must be torn apart.”

“I am. But it’s good to be around you guys. I don’t think I could do this alone.”

“I can imagine. For you to have gotten married, she must have been something really special.” There was so much unspoken meaning behind her words, but I sensed genuine sympathy for my loss.

“She was very special,” I answered.