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“Whitney, when was the last time you’ve been here to visit your dad?”

Whitney seemed to think about it. “About six years ago, I think. Yeah. It was right around the time he started dialysis.”

Toya nodded, really wondering how long it would take before Dominique told her sister off. It sounded to her like Whitney thought she was too good to come home once she’d
made it out. Toya saw Octavia kick her shoes off and make herself at home on the sofa, while her cousin Janet sat on the very edge of the couch as if the furniture wasn’t even worthy of her ass.

Andrew asked his mother if they could go out and buy some soda or something else to drink. “I’m thirsty,” he explained.

Dominique shook her head. “You don’t have to go out and buy soda. There’s plenty of juice and stuff in Daddy’s fridge. Go in there and help yourself.”

Andrew frowned and shook his head. “I don’t really want to touch anything,” he admitted. “It’s kinda disgusting in here.”

That was the final straw. Dominique lost it. “Let me tell you something, you ungrateful son of a bitch. This is your grandfather’s house. He’s in that hospital fighting for his life and you’re supposed to be here to rally around him in support. Instead, you sit up at the hospital all day without bothering to go inside his room to even see him. Then you’re on the elevator holding your breath, and now you’re sitting on the edge of the furniture like you’re too good to be here.” She glared at her niece and nephew. “And you have the fucking nerve to say that it’s ‘disgusting’ in here?” She seemed amazed at their audacity. “Did you know that your mother grew up in the projects? We both did. We were raised in this very apartment. So how dare you act as if this is too far beneath you! If it wasn’t for your grandfather, your mother wouldn’t even be here. That means that you wouldn’t be here, either. So for as long as you’re in my presence, you will respect that man and his house. I don’t care what your mother lets you get away with, but don’t try that shit when I’m around!”

Whitney spoke up. “Your aunt is right,” she said, although she herself didn’t seem too comfortable in these surroundings.

Toya scowled at Whitney. “
You
should be telling them how to behave, not their aunt!”

Whitney shrugged her shoulders. “I know they’re wrong for acting like that, but I’m glad that they feel comfortable enough to express themselves,” she said.

Toya had heard enough. “Express, my ass! There’s some shit they should be ashamed to express.” Seeing that Dominique was on the verge of going completely off, she nudged her friend toward the door. “Let’s go back to the hospital,” she said. Dominique stormed out, with Toya hot on her heels. They’d both had enough of Whitney and her uppity kids.

Toya was just as vexed as her friend as they headed out to the car. “Do those little stuck-up fuckers know that their mother doesn’t have a pot to piss in? Yet they’re sitting in there acting like they live in Beverly Hills and they’ve never been exposed to such filth. I woulda had to kick Whitney’s
ass
if I were you!”

Dominique was livid. “They’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me! Daddy would be so disappointed in Whitney right now, letting her kids act like that! And what the fuck did she come up here for if she was just gonna sit in the waiting room and sleep?”

Toya shook her head and stared out the window. “Just don’t think about her right now. It’s all about your father.”

They got back to the hospital, and Dominique went straight to her father’s room. Toya sat out in the waiting room, astonished by all that she’d witnessed that day. She thought about her own father again. She knew that if her father passed away, she would continue on with her life as if
nothing had happened. But that was because of the things she’d endured as a result of living under his tyranny for so long. She wondered what was causing Whitney to behave as if Bill were no more than a stranger to her while Dominique was clearly heartbroken over her father’s illness.

Dominique sat beside her father’s bed. She held his hand once again and began to cry. She had never felt more alone in her life. She was grateful for Toya, but she still felt as if she had no one to share her pain with. Octavia understood somewhat. After all, she had certainly been closer to her grandfather than any of his other grandchildren. Still, there was no comparison to the hole in Dominique’s heart that existed in her father’s absence. She leaned in and told her dad that she would give anything to hear his voice again, to see his smile or enjoy his laughter. Dominique laid her head on her father’s chest and cried. When she looked up, she was startled to see that his eyes had finally opened.

“Nurse! Somebody!” she yelled. “He’s awake!”

Two nurses rushed into the room, followed by Dr. Yang. Dominique watched as they called her father’s name and shined a light in his eyes. He was breathing very heavily, and they said that his blood pressure was dropping. His heart rate was extremely high, and they gave him a shot to calm him down. At Dr. Yang’s request, Dominique stepped out into the hallway while they attempted to stabilize him. She rushed into the waiting room and told Toya the good news.

“He’s awake!” Dominique was overjoyed and Toya was, too. She was praying that Mr. Storms pulled through, because she feared that her friend would never be the same again if he didn’t. The two friends jumped up and down together, and Dominique beamed with joy. Then Dr. Yang stepped in and shattered their celebration.

“Miss Storms,” he began. “Your father’s blood pressure is dropping rapidly. Right now it’s at forty over sixty. We’ve already given him numerous transfusions and we are unable to give him another one due to the fever he’s running. I must urge you to sign the DNR—”

“No!” She was angry now. “If it’s his time to go, then that’s up to God, not me. I’m not giving up on him yet.” She pushed past the doctor and headed straight for her father’s room. Once inside, she sat by his side and watched as the nurses milled around with defeated expressions on their faces. Toya stood in the doorway and watched as an Indian nurse touched Dominique’s back softly.

“He’s tired, sweetheart,” she said, looking at Mr. Storms. “Sometimes they hold on because we tell them to. Maybe he’s just waiting for you to tell him that it’s okay to let go.”

Dominique was crying softly. “But it’s not okay,” she said softly. Even as she watched her father struggling to breathe, watched him unable to talk with the tube in his throat, she shook her head in denial. “He’s not done living yet.”

The nurse patiently soothed her and touched her hand. “Sometimes,” she said, “it’s not really up to us.” She turned and walked out of the room, leaving Dominique to think about what she’d said. Dominique squeezed her father’s hand.

“Daddy . . .” Dominique wiped the tears away, determined to be strong despite the fact that she was falling apart inside. “I don’t know if they’re right. Maybe they are, and I’m the one who’s wrong.” She sniffled, then swallowed hard. “But I just want to tell you that if you’re tired . . . if you’re tired, Daddy, and you don’t feel like fighting anymore . . . it’s okay. You can let go, if you want to. And I’ll be okay. I’ll make sure that Octavia’s okay . . . Whitney and
her kids, too. You don’t have to fight anymore if you don’t want to.”

She watched as her father’s gaze slowly, ever so slowly, shifted from staring absently at the ceiling to staring in her direction. It was as if he was looking to see if she meant what she said. Dominique smiled at her father. “I love you, Daddy. And I don’t want you to go. I don’t know what I would ever do without you. You’ve been there for me when I didn’t have anyone else on my side. You’ve been my best friend for my whole life.” Her voice cracked with emotion. “And I will miss you if you go. I will miss you so much.” She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “But I’ll understand if you feel like you can’t fight anymore. We’ll be okay. I promise you that.”

Bill’s eyes locked with his daughter’s. His gaze was strong and focused on her face. Weakly, he squeezed her hand. And little by little, Dominique could hear the heart monitor slow down. Soon the beeping ceased altogether, Bill’s hand went limp in hers, and she knew that her father was gone forever. She broke down in sobs that shook her entire body, as the nurses and doctors came in to officially declare her father deceased. Toya walked in and wrapped her arms around her friend, held her close, and together they cried for Bill’s loss.

His funeral was
held on a cold November morning with scores of people in attendance to mourn the loss of a class act. Toya, Camille, and Misa came to support her, and Dominique was grateful to have them there with her. She handled all of the arrangements single-handedly, as Whitney was still claiming poverty. But it was an honor for Dominique
to give her father the service he deserved. She felt that it was one final act of love through which she could express the gratitude she felt for all the years he had stood solidly by her side, never wavering even for a moment.

At the repast, Whitney pulled her sister to the side. She cleared her throat and looked as if she had worked herself up to this moment for days. She took a deep breath and spoke at last. “Dominique, I just want to tell you that . . . we both lost our father. But you lost more than that. You lost your best friend. I didn’t have that relationship with him like you did.”

“That wasn’t Daddy’s fault,” Dominique pointed out. “You may not have been as close with him as I was. But that wasn’t because he didn’t try to be close to you. He did. He used to talk about how I had always been a daddy’s girl, while you never were. The minute you finished high school, you ran off and never looked back. I don’t blame you for that. We all want to branch out when we become adults. But you never came back, Whitney.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, not really. You came back every five or ten years, but that’s not really keeping in touch. Look at how your kids act at his house. It’s as if they’re in the home of a stranger who they feel is beneath them, and that’s
your
fault. They should have had a relationship with their family—not just Chris’s family, but
your
family as well. And they haven’t had that. As angry as I am with them for acting holier than thou, I can’t really blame them for it. You’re the one who owes it to them to make sure that they know
all
of who they are.” Dominique had been praying that God would soften her heart toward her sister. She didn’t want to hate Whitney or even dislike her. She knew that their father would want
them to be closer than they were. And to honor him, Dominique extended an olive branch to her sister.

“I know that Daddy and I were closer than you were. But let’s not have that be the case with our children. They’re so close in age that they should have a better relationship than they do now. And so should we.”

Whitney nodded, fighting back tears, and hugged her sister. She knew that she had been selfish, condescending, and perhaps even a little callous with regard to family matters. Most of her attention over the past fifteen years had been devoted to keeping her marriage alive, while her own family had received very little of her time. She vowed that from that day forward she would be closer to her sister and to the niece she’d never really gotten to know.

Dominique, meanwhile, was realizing that she had been one of the luckiest women she knew. While she had been seeking unconditional love in the arms of men, she knew now that she had had it all along—from her father. Bill had given her more love, more attention, and more self-confidence than any man could give her. And she was so grateful, so blessed, she now realized, to have been a daddy’s girl when so many women had never experienced unconditional love like that. She couldn’t completely forgive Whitney for bailing out on their dad the way she had, but with the knowledge that she had been given a gift that Whitney had never seen fit to accept for herself, Dominique put one foot in front of the other and carried on.

December 14, 2007

Misa sat on the chaise inside of Camille’s spacious closet, the size of some people’s bedrooms. She scanned the dozens of pairs of shoes and wished she could live like this for more than just a few days. But Misa’s life was nothing like her sister’s. Two months had passed since Baron had been shot at. And during those two months, Misa hadn’t been invited over to his house once. She called him, but usually got his voice mail. And she didn’t want to show up unannounced at his house, since the last time she’d tried that with a man—Cyrus—it had been a disaster. Misa was miserable, wondering why Baron had bored of her so quickly, and envious of Camille that she was invited to this Nobles family shindig tonight. She had gotten a taste of his lifestyle and was hooked.

“What color are you wearing?” she asked. It was Friday night and Camille was eagerly trying to pick out something sexy.

“Tonight is Doug and Mayra’s anniversary party,” Camille said, frowning. “That’s what makes it so hard to figure
out what to wear. Everyone is going to be trying to outdo everyone else.”

Misa smiled. “It sounds like a players’ ball.” She got a far-off look in her eyes as she wished for the thousandth time that she could live the type of lifestyle that Camille was living. She tried hard not to be too envious.

Camille saw the expression on her sister’s face and felt sorry for her. “Misa, I know it’s hard being alone and having Shane to take care of. But you’ll find somebody eventually to share your life with. Somebody just as romantic and caring and perfect for you as Frankie is for me. You’ll see.” She happily sifted through some dresses, searching for the right look for that evening. She was so anxious that she could hardly keep still.

Misa frowned and looked at her sister as if she had lost her mind. It was times like this that Misa couldn’t stand Camille. She was so condescending and thought that everyone wanted to live her life. “What are you talking about, Camille?”

Camille turned to face Misa, seeming confused. “You just look sad and I feel bad being this happy while you’re so lonely, sis. That’s all.”

Misa wanted to curse Camille out. She didn’t appreciate being described as “lonely.” In fact, Misa was willing to bet that she was happier in her life with little Shane than Camille truly was with Frankie.