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Lincoln sank to the floor of his little cabin in the sky and pulled out his phone. He’d been putting in twelve hour days and sat amazed at how much progress he’d made. It was only lunch time and already he’d put in five hours. Another week like this and the cabin would be fully livable for the winter.
He flipped open his phone without looking at the caller ID. “Hello?”
“Lincoln?”
“Rachel?” Lincoln hesitated at the tone of her voice. “Did ...?”
“Yeah.” Rachel sighed, the sound so sad Lincoln wanted to reach through the phone and hold her. “A part of me is relieved. Think I’ll go to hell?”
“No. You? No.”
The line went silent for several breaths. “It’s so wretched.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Lincoln bristled at the accusation in her voice.
“I’m sorry. I know it was different for you, I know—”
Lincoln straightened. “No. I deserve that. You were there. You saw it all. For years.”
“You don’t deserve anything.” Rachel sighed. “None of it matters now. He’s gone. He’s not suffering. Hopefully, wherever he is he remembers ... everything. Everything he’d lost. Hopefully he’s him again.”
“Yeah.” Lincoln’s eyes misted; his father, the man he’d seen just days ago, the man who’d barrelled into the kitchen on Saturday mornings, Lincoln hanging off of one arm, Rachel off of the other. A man so strong nothing could stop him ... except his own brain. It didn’t seem possible they were one and the same. “How’s Mom?”
More silence. “I don’t know. She’s Mom. Strong. Taking care of all of us. But there’s this emptiness in her eyes. It’s like she’s wilted.” Another soft sigh. “Dad was her life.”
“But not for years. Not really.”
“She went four to five times a week, Lincoln. At least. Sometimes more.”
“That much?”
“That much. She had her life outside of that. She was good at compartmentalizing. But all that time, all that energy.” Silence. “Do you think anyone will ever love us like that?”
“Mom does.”
“You know what I mean.”
He did know and couldn’t imagine it, at least not for him. “Someone will love you like that.”
Rachel’s voice tightened more. “I’d have to let them first.”
“What?”
Emptiness flooded her words. “I’m too scared to test, but until I do I push every man away who shows interest. How could I do that to someone? Knowingly put them through what we’ve all been through? How could I condemn someone, someone who loves me but doesn’t have to, to watch that?”
Lincoln stood and paced the small room. “You can’t think like that.”
“Why not? You don’t?”
Silence.
“Does Kali know?”
Lincoln hesitated. “She does. But we’re not ...”
Rachel let out a short laugh. “Oh, you are. But I guess she has her own ticking time bomb. It’s the possibility of mutual destruction.”
“Rachel.” Lincoln kept pacing. Rachel was supposed to be the optimistic one. The family Pollyanna. The peacemaker. He’d never heard such bitterness come out of her mouth.
“I’m sorry. I just ... it’s hard.”
“It is.”
“Anyway,” Rachel sighed, “all of the family are getting together tonight at Mom’s. You’ll come.”
To a place where his abandonment of his father would be more evident than ever, where every person present would have visited the man more in the past week than Lincoln had in the past decade? Where Joseph would be, and Lucy too. Their unborn child. “When’s the funeral? I’ll be there for—”
“It wasn’t a question.” Rachel’s voice hardened. “You’ll come tonight. And you’ll be there tomorrow and the next day and the one after that, for the funeral.”
“Rach—”
“Mom needs her children right now.” Another sigh. “I’ll see you tonight.”
The line clicked.
Lincoln stared at the phone. His father was dead. Really dead. Truly dead. Not just lost. Not just missing all of the things that made him him.
Lincoln pushed out a long breath of air as a hollow tension radiated through his chest. Needing air, he made his way to the porch.
His father was dead. And Lincoln hadn’t been there. He’d said his goodbye, yes, but he hadn’t been there. He’d told himself he was going to go back. Each of the days that had passed he’d told himself that. Now it was too late.
Had Joseph been there at the last moment? Linda? Rachel? His mother could have missed it, but Lincoln doubted that. As the time came closer she wouldn’t have left his side, she would have held his hand. If not his mother, Lincoln hoped someone had held his father’s hand. He hoped, in that last moment, his father had known he was loved.
A drop of moisture landed on Lincoln’s collar bone. He looked to the sky before realizing this rain had come from his own eyes.
He rubbed both hands over his face, wiping the liquid away.
His father was dead.
Lincoln worked on the tree house for another four hours then returned to the Brunswick Street apartment to shower and change. Plumbing was one of the things that still needed work at the tree house and he didn’t think a dip in the lake would suffice for tonight’s gathering.
Walking up the steps to his unit, Lincoln debated whether he should have called Kali before returning, but it was still his apartment. The only reason, really, would be to avoid an encounter with Derek.
He unlocked the door to an empty living room. A peek into the kitchen revealed it was vacant as well. Lincoln grabbed a change of clothes from his room and made his way down the hall, the sound of voices increasing with each step he took. He rapped deftly on Kali and Theo’s bedroom door, not wanting to startle her with the loud groan of the shower starting up.
“Hello?”
“Hi.” Lincoln pushed the ajar door open all the way.
“Lincoln!” Theo scrambled over Kali’s bed, where he’d sat, half dressed, and flung himself into Lincoln’s arms.
Lincoln lifted the boy, a thick emotion filled lump pushing away the hollowness he’d felt since Rachel’s phone call. “Hey, buddy.” Lincoln squeezed Theo tight.
“What is it?” Kali stepped toward them. “Is your dad?”
Lincoln gave a slight nod as he set Theo down. “He’s passed.”
“Passed what?” asked Theo.
“Oh,” Kali put a hand to Theo’s head, “passed away. Lincoln’s daddy isn’t here anymore. He’s died.”
“Lincoln has a daddy?” Theo’s eyes widened. “Why don’t we know him? Is he Mrs. Marilyn’s husband?”
“He is ... was ... yes. But he was very sick, so he didn’t live with her.”
“Where’d he live then?”
Kali looked from Lincoln to Theo, seeming like she didn’t know where to give her attention. Her gaze landed on Theo. “He lived in a home for sick people. Where Mommy worked, actually. So nurses could help take care of him.”
“In the hop-ital?”
“Not quite. Kind of.” Kali took a breath, her gaze on Lincoln now. “Theo, finish getting dressed, okay? Lincoln and I are going to talk.”
“I spilled ketchup on my shirt,” said Theo.
Lincoln nodded at Theo as Kali ushered him out to the hall. She put a hand on Lincoln’s arm. “How are you?”
Lincoln turned from her. “I need to shower. To change.”
“Okay.” Kali kept her hand on his arm. “But how are you?”
Lincoln shrugged while trying to rub away an encroaching headache. “I don’t know. My dad’s dead. But I haven’t spoken to him, not really, in over a decade. So ...”
Kali’s brow furrowed. “Are you going somewhere?”
“To Mom’s. They’re gathering. All the family ... I think all the family. Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe just my family.”
“I can come. I’ll call Mrs. Martin or see if Marvin will come over, or bring Theo or—”
Lincoln shook his head. “No. That’s not a good idea.”
“What? Why? The break? I don’t think that really—”
Lincoln looked away. “I need to shower.” He stepped past Kali and into the bathroom. With the door closed, he peeled off his clothes, his body feeling not his own, nothing feeling right. He wanted Kali to come, wanted her hand on his arm, wanted her next to him as he was hugged and silently chastised by his relations. Wanted her so bad it ached. But seeing her, knowing if Derek had his way he may never see her again, made him ache more.
Lincoln stepped into the shower, twisted the nozzle to as hot as he could stand, and let the water pour over him for several minutes before reaching for his shampoo. He’d come so far, from a hermit wanting to distance himself from the world, to yearning to be part of it again. He feared this gathering of family, but yearned for it too—to see the glimpses of the father he used to know in Rachel’s laugh, in Linda’s nose, in Joseph’s strong presence, and in his Uncle’s entire being.