“I was gonna give you this before you walked down the aisle. Figured now’s as good a time as any.”
My hands shook as I opened it. Inside was a silver bracelet with tiny motorcycle charms—one for every bike we’d ever ridden together. Twelve motorcycles, twelve memories.
“That last one,” Dad said, “is for all the rides we won’t get to take. I’ll be riding with you anyway, baby girl. Always.”
I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe. I just held that bracelet and cried while my father, my hero, my best friend, held my hand with what little strength he had left.
“I love you, Hawk,” I finally managed to say, using his road name like I had since I was a kid.
“I love you more, Little Wing,” he replied, using the nickname he’d given me when I was eight and fearless and convinced I could fly.
The party lasted three hours. Dad faded in and out, but every time he was awake, he was smiling. The Iron Guardians told stories. Danny’s EMT coworkers who’d come to the wedding brought food. The nurses stopped trying to enforce visiting hours and just let it happen.
Around midnight, when most people had left and it was just me, Danny, and Uncle Bear, Dad squeezed my hand.
“Olivia, I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything.”Continue reading…
