Memories

"Daddy, wake up. I'm hungry."

"I'm up, almost." My three-year-old daughter always woke me up in the morning by prying my eyelids open. I opened them up all the way to see a smiling cherub with curly red hair and blue eyes smiling at me. The room seemed cold and gray, probably a cloudy day.

"Daddy. Why don't I have a mommy?"

Michelle. We were a couple from the third grade until the day she died, giving birth to Angel. I felt exhausted, but I think I got up.

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"Hurry, Daddy, I don't want to be late for the bus on the first day of school."

She walked to the bus stop, the stop sign on the corner of Maple and Oak streets. Today chaos controlled the corner, with kids running around, dads with cameras shouting out instructions, and moms with big hankies, blotting out the tears of joy running down their cheeks. When the bus pulled up, Angel backed up against my legs.

"Angel, don't be afraid. School is not a scary place."

"I'm not scared, Daddy. Mommy says a good Christian should always be last." The entire scene turned gray like a dark cloud passed overhead.

A chill shot up my spine, Michelle always held doors open for people. How did my baby know that? I felt strange, nervous.

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"Now remember Daddy, my friend Angela is eleven and her birthday is today just like me. Her mom's name is Melissa, and she has red hair, just like mommy and me. Now don't screw this up; she's perfect for you, and you've been alone for too long. Mommy says you need to let her go."

Mommy? She keeps bringing up mommy.

"This is their house. Come on."

Did I drive over here?

"Daddy, this is Angela and her mother, Melissa. Mom, this is my Daddy, Peter Johnson."

"At last, we finally meet. Please call me Mel. Angel talks about you all the time, and I feel like we've been friends forever."

"Yes, she is an extrovert, and I gave up trying to talk first years ago. What's with calling you, Mom?"

"She called me that the first time Angela brought her home."

We talked while we watched the girls splash around in the pool with three other girlfriends. It seemed to be overcast.

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She took my hand and pulled me through the front doorway. This house was different than the house with the pool. All the lights came on, and a cry rang out. "Surprise!"

My parents were here, and so were Mel's. And the twins were there, well, we called them the twins, our two fourteen-year-old daughters, Angel and Angela. There was a banner with gray letters hanging from the ceiling, 'It's A Girl,' and as I looked at Mel, she was smiling and nodding. When did we get married?

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"I'm sorry, but AML, Acute Myeloid Leukemia, is almost always fatal. Even with aggressive chemotherapy, at best, she has five to six months to live." Dr. Chichester, who was speaking, was one of the top oncologists in the US.

Mel had a grip on my left hand; otherwise, I would have collapsed. She has a baby bump now, although I couldn't remember when we did it.

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We gathered around my baby; her hair was gone, and her twin, Angela, had shaved hers off also. Angel looked frail, lying in that gray hospital bed.

"Daddy. Please don't be sad. I knew this would happen; that's why I fixed you up with Mommy Melissa. If I could stay, I would, but it's my time to go. Mommy's waiting for me, but we had to make sure you would be okay."

The monitor alarm went off, and Angel's eyes were closed. I felt empty.

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"What happened?"

"He passed out."

Is this real or a dream?

"Peter, wake up." That was Mel's voice. I opened my eyes; the sun was shining, and my head was in her lap.

Today was Angel's funeral; Michelle's gravestone was in front of me, Angel's freshly dug grave was to my left, and behind the stone were Michelle and Angel, my girls.

"Peter, we will love you forever. Grow old with Mel, and take care of the baby girl inside her. We will be together again. Find peace in your heart."

"I will, I promise." They faded away as I got kicked in the head by the baby in Mel's belly.

"What did you promise?"

"To find peace in my heart."

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