Fighting For What's Missing

57.

Agnes

"Holy shit," Lena gasps at daddy while he braids my hair. "Since when did you start braiding hair?"

"Years ago," daddy answers, and I peer up at him to see him shrugging.

I look at Lena again. "He's gotten really good at it too. I always ask him to do designs I find on Instagram or YouTube, and after seeing them a few times, he's got it down." Daddy playfully hits the side of my head, and I roll my eyes.  "Looks who's being modest," I mumble, then Lena and I share a small giggle.

"Okay," daddy retorts.

We slip into our familiar silence, the only sound is the crickets outside, rubbing their legs and the wind blowing from a light breeze; nature's true music. Daddy finishes my two dutch braids then helps me off the floor. "Brush your teeth and get ready for bed," he tells me, "I'll come check on you in a few minutes."

"Okay. Thank you, daddy. Love you." I lean down and peck his cheek.

"I love you too, kid."

"Night." I wave at Lena and hurry upstairs. I reach the top of the steps when I hear-

"A daughter," Lena says, utterly amazed and a bit surprised. I can't help it; I stop and crouch down, gripping the starting newel.

"I already know what you're going to say," daddy snarls.

"How is it-" I hear movement on the couch "-are you constantly worried about boys?" Lena asks, eagerly. "You know, the way you were with me? Do y'all fight a lot? It seems like y'all don't but family fight-plus she's a teenager and teenagers are an-"

"Lena!" Daddy snaps in a hushed, angry whisper. "Is this what you wanted to talk about?"

"No," Lena says in a more serious tone. "What are we gonna do about Tisha? She told you, right?"

"Yeah, and I dunno," daddy breathes. "I was thinking of letting Rob and Agnes handle it."

Handle what about grandma? I ask myself.

"Rob's Agnes' uncle, right? The one watching Caesar, Agnes' cat?" Lena asks. We were talking about uncle Rob and uncle Charlie earlier, I guess Lena's just making sure and keeping tabs on everyone. It's nice. I hear daddy hum a yes then Lena continues. "Do you think that's smart? Letting Agnes plan Tisha's funeral?"

What?

"They're the only real family she has," daddy answers. Horrified, I fall back on my butt, causing a loud thud noise. "Agnes?!"

I jump up to my feet, but the sound of daddy's footsteps crossing the living room is already thick in the air, and I remain where I am. I want to run to my room because I know daddy will be mad at me, but grandma's funeral? I need to talk about it.

"Agnes." Daddy suddenly appears at the end of the stairs, his face twisted in...fear? "Agnes, what did you...whatdidyouhear?"

What? He knows I heard them, why would he ask that?

I hate the space between us, the uncertainty is...well it's...suffocating. Daddy and I are never this far apart-not when we're talking about something serious. So I walk down the stairs and stop with a few steps between us, making daddy and me eye level. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. Daddy's face continues to drain of color.

"G-g-grandma?" I stutter. It's the only thing I can get out.

"She's been sick for a while now, Agnes." My vision blurs and I realize it's from tears. I shut my eyes, but it's too late, a few tears slip out. "Baby, I'm so sorry." Daddy grasps at my hand, snaking his arm around me, and picks me up. Thanks to the height distance caused by the steps, I'm lifted way above daddy's head, higher than usual. So I hug daddy's head and cry into his hair.

William

That night Agnes cried herself to sleep. I slept curled up at the end of the bed, reaching out my arm in an odd angle to hold my daughter's hand. The last time I slept in Agnes' bed was when she was ten and she had a nightmare, my poor baby was trembling, and although I hated to see her like that, I wish that was the case this time. The next morning Tisha couldn't get out of bed. So we took her to the hospital. It turns out it was worse than we thought-Tisha had been hiding her sickness for months now and the doctors didn't give her long.

Agnes, being my brave and strong baby girl, didn't shed a tear while we waited. She forced a smile, doing everything she can to keep the conversation light. The more I watched her, the more I notice her secretly slipping now and then. Her eyes would pool but she would blink them away before anyone noticed.

It stored up mixed emotions in me. I was upset to see Agnes so sad and not being able to express it properly, and angry that at such a young age, she's good and used to hiding her pain and sorrow.

I started thinking about her birth family. David, Agnes' birth father had mentioned something about her birth grandma watching her all the time. Agnes was so young, but when a person's emotions are strong enough and rare, that person can remember anything.

"Daddy?" Agnes' voice releases me from my daze of emotions, and I blink rapidly, focusing my attention on her again. "Rob's calling."

I jump to my feet and hurry to her side. I thank her, taking her phone from her, then step out into the hall.

"Yeah?" I say into the phone.

"How is she? Them," he quickly adds, "how's Tisha? How's Agnes? How are they?" There's a hint of fear in his voice.

"They're...fighting," I breathe. "Why are you calling Agnes' phone?"

"Yours must be turned off."

Shit. I forgot to charge it last night. And this morning. And the entire time in the hospital.

"You should come down," I say. "It's not looking good." Rob's been more a son to her in the last few years than I have in my entire life. Despite that, I can't ask him to plan Tisha's funeral, not yet and especially not over the phone.

"Do you want me to bring Caesar too?"

"Um, no...but thanks. Let me know when you're on the way."

"Yeah, okay...love you." That's strange of him. Men don't usually say I love you as a goodbye or a see you in a few.

"I love you too, kid." I hang up and turn for the door when it opens and Agnes joins me in the hall, shutting the door behind her. "Rob's-"

"I want to do it," she rushes out. "Plan grandma's funeral I mean."

I was hoping she didn't hear that part. I didn't mean it. "Agnes...I shouldn't have...I can't ask you to do that."

"But I want to," she argues. "I want to help grandma..." she trails off as another slip creeps in. Her eyes well up and her bottom lip begins to tremble. She may be able to hide from everyone else but not me.

I reach out and cup her chin. And the moment I do, she breakdown. I pull her to my chest, holding her tightly while she cries into my chest. I kiss the top of her head. I have no clue what to say to her.

Cello! Message from Saturn's Writer; I wanted to say that I was hesitant about writing and posting this chapter because it talks about certain things that may be a sensitive topic to some. And if it is then I'm sorry. And please note that I tried to keep it as light as possible.

I also wanted to say thank you to all my readers that stayed with my story. It means a lot.