Color of Forgiveness (65 page)

“You so siwee, daddy,” she says, grinning up
at him.

“And this sleepy guy I’m holding is Matthew,
he's eight months.”

Sabrina smiles brightly at the kids. “It's a
pleasure to meet each and every one of you.”

“Daddy…?” Madison says, tugging on Dylan's
hand.

“What, sweetheart?” he says, looking down at
her again.

“Is she a weel pwincess? She's so
pwetty.”

Sabrina tosses her head back, laughing.

“No, she's not a princess, sweetheart,”
Dylan says with a smile.

Myra touches Dylan’s arm, smiling up at him.
“Excuse me. Kids…?” she says, interrupting. “Let's go let the
balloons off for Mel, okay? Marco, do you want to come with us? We
can do some catching up.”

Marco nods and follows after Myra and the
kids, leaving Sabrina, Dylan and Matthew alone.

Sabrina stares after the kids as they run
from them. “Dylan. Your kids… your family… they are amazing.”

“Thanks. They are. How have you been?”

“Good.”

“Did you end up moving to New York?”

Sabrina laughs. “No. Those plans definitely
fell through.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

“Oh, no… they fell through in a good way.
Because of him,” she says, nodding towards Marco. “After you left
that night in the hospital, he came in and talked to me, and he
ended up staying. I had every intention of moving to New York. He
was going to quit his job and go with me, but then I realized I
couldn't be that far away from Mel. So I stayed and we've been
together ever since. We even got married,” she says, holding up her
hand. “Two years ago.”

“That's great.”

Sabrina looks at Dylan's wedding ring. “I
see you two tied the knot as well. How long have you been
married?”

“Seven years.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

Sabrina looks out towards the kids again. “I
can't believe we haven't run into each other here before now.”

“Well, we only bring the kids here twice a
year… on Mel’s birthday and today.”

Sabrina nods. “What's with the
balloons?”

“Oh. We have a tradition where the kids
write Mel a letter and send it up to him in heaven. We originally
just started with the balloons when the kids were smaller, but now
that they're older, they like writing him letters too.”

“That's… that's so beautiful,” Sabrina says,
her brows furrowed. They watch as the kids let the balloons go, the
wind lifting them quickly into the sky. They are both quiet… both
of them remembering. They continue watching until the balloons are
just tiny dots in the gray overcast sky.

Dylan clears his throat. “So, is this your
first...?” he asks, motioning towards her stomach.

Sabrina puts her hands on her belly. “Yeah,
this is our first. It's taken me a long time to get to this
point.”

“I understand.”

She stares at him and then Matthew for a
moment. “How did you do it?”

Dylan watches his kids chase each other
laughing, their cheeks pink from the cold. “It was a lot easier
than I thought it would be. Just look at them.”

Sabrina stares at the kids for a moment
before nodding in understanding.

“You'll find that there's plenty of room in
your heart,” Dylan says. “Mel has his own special place in mine, he
always will. But so do these guys. They all have an equal part. And
I treasure every minute I get with them because I came to realize
that if I lost them all tomorrow, it would still be worth it.”

He turns to Sabrina. “I don't ever regret
having Mel. I think I used to. But now, I'd do it all over again,
lose him all over again just to get to spend that small amount of
time with him that I had.”

Sabrina smiles, her eyes teary. “Me
too…”

They're quiet for a few more minutes. Dylan
adjusts Matthew on his shoulder.

“It was so wonderful to see you again,
Dylan, and to see your beautiful family. I know this may seem a
little strange to say, but it's kind of like we've lived two lives,
isn't it? Our life we had together with Mel seems so distant, like
it happened a lifetime ago. Like it was a whole other life
somehow...”

“Yeah… we both got a second chance.”

“We did.”

Megan runs up to Dylan. “Daddy, I'm
cold.”

“Okay,” he tells her. “Hang on just a
second.”

He looks at Sabrina. “It was really great to
see you again too, Sabrina, and I really mean that. I'm happy for
you and Marco. You take care, okay?”

“You too,” Sabrina says with her hand
resting gently on her stomach. She smiles softly and gives Dylan a
nod.

Dylan picks up Megan and carries her and
Matthew over to Mel's tombstone. He looks down at it for a moment.
“I love you, son. Be waiting for me. I can't wait to see you
again,
” he prays silently to himself. Myra comes up and takes
Matthew from his arms.

“Everything okay?” she asks softly.

“Yeah,” he answers with a nod. “Everything
is as it should be.”

He turns towards Madison and Max who are
chasing each other. “Come on, kids. Let's go.”

Once they get everyone loaded into the SUV,
and he's behind the wheel he asks, “So who wants ice cream?”

“Me, daddy, me, me, me,” he hears them all
shout, yelling over top of each other.

He chuckles, picking up Myra's hand and
rubbing it against his cheek before kissing it softly.

“Daddy? Can we get spwinkles?” Madison
asks.

Dylan smiles at her in the rearview mirror.
“Yes, sweetheart, you can get sprinkles. You can always get the
sprinkles.”

* * *

The next evening as Myra puts the dinner
dishes in the dishwasher her phone rings. She smiles when she sees
Porter’s name.

“Hi. How are you?” she says.

“Myra! I'm doing great. How are you?”

“Good… doing really good. How's Erika?”

“She’s keeping me fat and happy as usual.
How're my grandbabies doing?”

“Wonderful. They're growing so fast…” Myra
turns when she feels a tugging on her shirt.

“Mommy, who's on the phone…?” Megan
asks.

“It's grandpa,” she whispers.

“I wanna talk to him,” Megan says
excitedly.

“Okay. Wait until I'm done, all right?”

“Who was that?” Porter asks.

“Megan. She wants to talk to you when we're
done.”

“Ah, she's just precious. I got the pictures
you sent the other day. When am I going to get to see them again?
I'm having withdrawal symptoms.”

Myra laughs. When Megan was born, Porter
fell in love with her and immediately took on the role as surrogate
grandpa. Myra’s relationship with Porter and his wife, Erika, grew
substantially over the years to the point that she feels as though
they are real grandparents to her children. “They miss their
grandpa and grandma. Dylan needs to work on the plumbing at the old
house soon. The renters called recently about it so we plan on
making a trip to Nyssa. I'll let you know when.”

“Good. Don't make me wait too long.”

“I won't,” Myra says, smiling.

“I actually have some news for you and
Dylan. I got a call earlier that Rhonda Neil died of a heart attack
this morning.”

Myra gasps. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah... I guess it happened after she ate
breakfast.”

“Wow. I… I don't know what to say.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Mental illness
is a hard thing to understand. I hate that she passed like she did,
but I'm happy that it gives you and Dylan some closure and that you
don't ever have to worry about her getting out and coming after you
guys again.”

Myra feels a tug on her shirt again.
“Mommy…? Are you done yet? I wanna talk to grandpa,” Megan
whines.

“Sure, honey,” she tells her. “Porter? Megan
is ready to talk to you. I'll talk to you later, okay?”

“Sure thing, Myra,” he says.

She hands the phone to Megan who runs off to
the family room to climb into Dylan's arms. He's reading a story to
Madison who is already perched on the other side of his lap,
clutching a teddy bear, and Max is on the floor playing with some
toys. Matthew lays at Dylan's feet in his bouncy seat, happily
slobbering and gurgling over a teething ring.

Myra follows Megan and sinks down onto the
couch next to Dylan, resting her head on his shoulder. He smiles
down at her and kisses her forehead before he goes back to reading
his story. Megan scoots onto Myra's lap as she continues talking
away to Porter about her day at school. Myra's fingers find their
way into Megan's long hair, running through the smooth strands as
she blocks out the chatter around her and thinks about what Porter
said.

Rhonda's dead.

She's not sure how she feels about that. She
feels relief more than anything and a bit guilty for feeling that
way about someone being
dead
. But she also feels a strong
sense of sadness for the poor woman. Rhonda ended up being
diagnosed with schizophrenia and institutionalized, but even with
medication, she still suffered from delusional behavior. She never
got better. Myra can't imagine living such a sad existence trapped
in a fictional world that wasn't even real.

Dylan closes the book he was reading and
tosses it on the coffee table. He grabs Madison and blows
raspberries on her neck, causing her to squeal in delight. Max
climbs up into Dylan's lap and hands him a Batman action figure to
play with. As she stares at her family, a powerful wave of
protectiveness rolls over her, leaving her a little breathless. She
is glad Rhonda's dead. Because there is nothing more important to
her in the universe than these five people in this room with her
right now. Their safety is everything to her.

Megan hangs up with Porter and hands the
phone back to Myra. “Did you have a good talk with grandpa?” she
asks her.

“Yeah, he's funny. I miss him.”

“We'll go see him soon.”

Myra's phone rings again. “It's Susie,” she
tells Dylan. “I'm going to take this upstairs. You okay watching
the kids for a minute?”

“Yeah, but don't take too long,” he says,
slyly pinching her on the butt. She grins and swats his hand away
before she walks towards the stairs.

“Hey,” she says, answering the Face Time
call.

“Myra! Oh my god, you are not going to
believe what just happened to me. Can you talk?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank Jesus. Tucker had that little
floosyfied girl from school over tonight to
study
,” she
says, rolling her eyes dramatically. “I told you I don't like that
girl. She's not good enough for my baby. She has beady eyes, and
her skirts are too short and she doesn’t have enough meat on her
bones. Anyway, you know my rules about studying. I've told Tucker a
thousand times that he has to leave the door open when he's up
there.

“So I went upstairs and his door was closed.
So it pissed me off to no end because I can't stand that girl
anyway so instead of knocking, I just yanked the door open. And
guess what I saw?” she says, her face all dramatic.

“What?”

Susie covers her eyes then grabs her hair,
yanking on it. “They were laying
…
on his bed…
kissing
…
and my baby's hand
…
Lord help me, was up her
shirt.
”

“
What?
”

“Oh dear Lord, help me. That little, slutty
beady-eyed child was kissing on my Tucker and his
hand
,
Myra, his
hand
,” she yells holding up her hand and shaking
it for emphasis, “was up her shirt. Like on her boobah. Like my
baby was touching a boob… a real, live boob. Oh. My. God. I want to
cut a hole in my skull, pour a gallon of bleach in it, replace the
hole and then shake my head all crazy like a wet dog. I am
completely scarred for all eternity. I truly cannot handle this. My
baby is not supposed to be touching boobies, especially floosy
boobies on beady-eyed girls. This is just too much for me.”

“Susie, he's sixteen. His hormones are
raging and this—”

“He's a baby! He's
my
baby! He's not
supposed to be thinking about boobies, not until he graduates
college. And he's most certainly not supposed to be
touching
them especially in my house!”

“Would you rather he sneak and do it in the
backseat of a car?”

“Yes!”

“No, you wouldn’t. You have to remember that
you are the mother of teenagers now. You have to accept the fact
that these things are going to happen. You have to constantly talk
to them about sex, about making wise choices and being safe and
then just pray that what you have taught them helps guide them
along the way. They will make mistakes because we all do. And
you'll be there for them through all of it.”

“Why do you have to be all wise and
philosophical when I'm just freaking out over here?”

Myra laughs. “That's why we're friends.
We're so opposite, we help balance each other out.”

“True. You help balance my crazy with your
non-crazy.”

“So what did you do after you caught
them?”

“I sent her the hell packing. And I told
Tucker his bedroom was off-limits for studying from now on. He can
only study downstairs at the kitchen table.”

“Good for you.”

“I'm still dying. I'm never going to get
that image out of my head of my baby's hand on a titty. Carmen's
titty. I even hate her name. It sounds slutty. Like Carmen
Coochie.”

Myra snorts. “Does Tucker know how much you
despise this girl?”

“No. It's been unbelievably hard for me to
keep my big, fat mouth shut, but
somehow
I've done it.”

“Well, you better keep it that way. If he
gets any inclination from you that you don't approve of her, it'll
just make him go after her all the more.”

“I know! I'll just save up all my nasty
remarks about her for you.”

“Good. Guess what?”

“What?”

“I just found out Rhonda Neil died of a
heart attack today.”