Pretty Boy Problems by Michele Grant

Author:Michele Grant
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Romance, African American, Montgomerys
ISBN: 0758279337
Publisher: Dafina
Published: 2012-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

17

We All Make Our Own Choices

Belle—Sunday, May 8, 3:12 PM

I glanced at my watch and tried not to make the c’mon-with-it-already motion to my father. He was staying in a small house in Alpharetta we’d rented for him. All of his belongings from Valdosta had been shipped, unpacked, and set to his exact specifications around the three-bedroom, two-bath ranch house. My mother’s picture hung over the fireplace in the living room. Percy Richards sat in navy blue lounging pajamas Beau had bought for him, with his feet propped up on a faded tan ottoman I remembered from my childhood.

The doctors were ecstatic about his progress, but I’d hired a home healthcare worker who was not only a registered nurse but a chef as well. Nina was a sturdy, no-nonsense woman in her early fifties who won all of us over immediately with her straightforward attitude. The full breakfast of grits, eggs, and ham hadn’t hurt either. When she slapped a bowl of thin Cream of Wheat in front of my father with a look that said not to try her, I knew she was the perfect person for the job.

Beau and I had a plane to catch in less than an hour. My father had asked to speak to me alone and sent everyone else out of the room. That was three minutes ago. Since then he sat, staring at the picture of my mother.

With a deep breath, he finally started to speak, and his first words shocked the hell out of me. “Delaney Mirabella, I know you think I put your mother in her premature grave.”

Whoa! I had no answer to that one. I did think it, but one didn’t say such a thing out loud. So I sat silently.

“But I want you to know that your mother knew she had a heart condition. She lived her life exactly how she wanted. I never asked that woman to bear five children, work two jobs, and fetch for me like she did. That’s what made her happy, Baby Girl.”

“How do you know that?”

“She told me. And she left a letter. I want you to read it. I want you to understand.” His voice shook as he spoke.

“Daddy, you’re not supposed to get upset. It’s fine. It’s okay. I understand.”

He slapped his hand down on the side of his lounge chair. “No, you don’t! And you need to before it’s too late.”

“Don’t say things like that!” Was he not feeling well? Was there a chance he wouldn’t recover?

“Not too late for me, too late for you!” He was adamant.

“What do you mean?” I was thoroughly confused.

“When your mama died, a part of me shut down. It was like a lot of the color just seeped out of my life. I didn’t feel the joy. I did the basics to raise your sisters and brothers, and I let them lean on you for the rest.”

I let out a breath. “It all turned out all right.” Now that he acknowledged it, I was willing to let the whole thing go.

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