Page 4 of And Everything In Between (Love By Any Means #3)

Saturday

The morning after visiting JT, Paige woke with a clarity she hadn’t felt in months.

Ending things left her lighter. She was kicking herself in the ass for not doing it sooner.

She’d finally set down a weight she didn’t need to continue to carry.

But Saturday was a dialysis day for her father, and some responsibilities couldn’t be shed so easily.

She dressed in simple jeans and a tank top, trying to hold on to that weightless feeling, even as duty called her back.

“Momma, why are you threatening me? All I said was that I was still thinking about it. I don’t know if I’m going, but I may also go. What’s so hard to understand about that?”

“You outta watch that mouth, Paige. I don’t want them to go to waste, that’s what you need to get. I’ll come pick you up myself if I have to.”

“I called you to keep me company, not to hear you fuss about this car show. Who is having it again?”

There was something about the hum of the dialysis machine that haunted Paige. Not just the steady rhythm of it, but the way it echoed like a heartbeat, distant from life. That’s why she had called in the first place. It certainly wasn’t to hear her mouth about a car show.

“Get your bald-headed daddy to keep you company. That’s the only opinion you care about. It doesn’t matter who’s having it. You will be there.”

“That’s not fair. I love you both, but y’all could make it a lot easier if you would try and get along.”

“We do get along, I don’t see the need to do dinner, phone calls, and such. I don’t need anybody on my roster getting the wrong impression.”

“Goodbye, lady. You work my nerves so bad.” Paige disconnected the line and laughed at herself before going back inside to sit next to her father.

When her father came back into her life, she didn't know what to expect. She didn’t know how to welcome him back, how to move with him, how to create a new rhythm with a man she barely knew.

He had always been her father. No prison walls, no courtroom chains, no passing years could change that.

But Paige hadn’t had her daddy in the flesh in over twenty years.

He’d missed everything: the school dances, the heartbreaks, the promotions she celebrated alone.

And yet, she loved him anyway. Even knowing it was his choices that took him from her.

She’d already buried enough family to know grief didn’t end, it only shapeshifted. The Bishops had buried more than their share. Now it was her cousin Brooks ensuring the family name set a new standard. Someone had to break the cycle. And collectively they were.

She had imagined their new beginning would be a beautiful one. Soft. Healing. But that wasn’t the hand she’d been dealt. So, she adjusted her grip. Took what she could get. Made it her business to make sure he was comfortable. That’s why she was sitting right there beside him.

He was fragile, shrunken, the rough outline of the man she remembered, softened by sickness and guilt. The stress of losing him again, this time happening in right before her eyes, no warnings, no mercy, no escape sat heavy on her chest every single day.

“Girl, your daddy is lucky to have you here. I know a young fine thang like you knows how to get into some trouble,” the nurse said with a grin while adjusting Perry’s IV. She’d unplugged a little. No work badge today. No planner. No catching up.

“Please, don’t be fooled. I’m on my way to being a crazy cat lady,” Paige replied with a quick smirk, dropping her phone into her lap.

The nurse laughed, shaking her head. “That means you picky, waiting on the right one. Nothing wrong with knowing your worth.”

“Picky, jaded, tired. Ma’am, it’s all the same thing these days.” Paige said it with a laugh, but it stuck in her throat a little too long after.

She leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs, watching the soft rise and fall of her father’s chest.

“You okay?” she asked lightly placing a hand over his.

“Yeah, but you ain’t gotta wait around, baby girl,” Perry muttered, voice dry and cracked from too many years behind bars and too many treatments pulling the life out of him. “Go live a little. It’s Saturday and your off day.”

Some days, Paige wondered if she’d already lived all the life she was supposed to. God knew she’d had her fun. Her mouth curled at the memory of reckless nights and louder mornings. Fast talking, faster drinking, and running a nigga’s pockets for his munyuns (money) and his pride was a habit.

She used to be hell on heels. Maybe it made sense she was slowing down. Maybe that was the natural order of things. She wasn’t a girl anymore. Thirty had come knocking a month ago. And truth be told, the streets had already stopped calling her name.

“I’m fine, Daddy.” Her eyes glued back on her phone, pretending to be locked into a hair tutorial.

She wasn’t fine. She was functioning.

Perry wasn’t blind. He saw it in her face, no matter how good she got at faking it.

And still, she didn’t know how to stop. Being last had become second nature.

He hated being a burden. Hated leaning on the only child he had left. But he didn’t have anybody else. The streets that used to know his name had gone quiet when he needed help.

After PJ’s death, her mother made it clear she wanted no part of Perry or the world he came from. She’d buried her son, changed her last name back to her maiden name, closed the door, and locked it from the inside. And maybe she was right too. Some hurts were too heavy to heal from and forgive.

But Paige had chosen differently.

She decided love meant staying, even when it cracked you wide open. And her mother, even in her distance, respected that choice. She never stood between them. Never made her choose. That was her way of loving Paige, too.

Perry shifted in the chair, grimacing slightly as he scratched at the edge of the tape holding the needle in place.

“You tired.” Perry looked over at her, not asking. Telling. “Running yourself ragged.”

“Daddy, you need me,” Paige replied, voice soft. “I’m going to be here.”

He smiled weakly.

“When that Medicaid comes through, it’ll get easier. Maybe your momma will come help me until then.”

He winked, wrong and hopeful all at once, the way only a man who still believed miracles were possible could.

Paige lifted her eyes and gave him a look, half exasperation, half tenderness.

He was serious. Still hopeful after everything.

Still a man who thought you could leave the porch light on, and forgiveness would find its way home.

But he knew Myra better than she knew herself.

She’d been the biggest stepper he knew. She wasn’t going for it.

“Momma’s still stubborn,” she said, shaking her head. “She might kill you if you even blink at her wrong.”

Perry chuckled.

“Fuck all that. I want you to leave. Find somethin’ to get into. I ain’t gon’ let you rot sittin’ here watchin’ me fade out.”

Paige frowned, crossing her arms over her chest, her whole body tightening like a rubber band stretched too thin. She was so sick of the real nigga til I die mess that came with him sometimes.

“Absolutely not. I’m taking you back home like I said I would. And it sounds like you’ve been talking to Momma already. I find it funny you both keep trying to get me outside,” she said and motioned with air quotes.

He shook his head; stubbornness stitched into his every breath too. It was him who passed it to her.

“You keep pushing yourself and you gon’ lose yourself doing everything and nothing at the same damn time. Because unless you work here, you can do nothing for me. I don’t need you looking in my face.”

Paige couldn’t even argue. Between the bank, her side hustles, the endless appointments, and pretending she gave a damn about brunch invites and engagement announcements, Paige was exhausted.

Both her mom and dad were throwing truth bombs aiming straight at her head.

And the worst part of it all was that she’d become so accustomed to being last that she didn’t know how to stop.

Even worse, she didn’t know who she’d be if she did stop. Who would she be if no one needed her?

She gave him a playful side-eye, her mouth twitching despite herself.

“I’ll have you know.” Her voice lifted with fake pride, “I’m on the fast track to being the loan manager. Might even take over the whole damn bank one day.”

Perry grinned wide, shaking his head.

“Girl, you ain’t gon’ do shit if you end up in the grave. Go outside. Go laugh. Go let some young fool look at you like the miracle you are.”

“Daddy,” she warned, but the warmth in her voice gave her away. He could be sweet like that, and she hated she missed out on so many years of her father being her biggest advocate.

He sank back, groaning under his breath, eyes shut like he needed that moment before meeting hers.

“Daddy my ass. Call Bishop. Let him get me. His wife makes the best strawberry shortcake on this side of the Mason-Dixon. I need that today.”

A laugh bubbled out of Paige before she could stop it.

“You’re deliberately trying to drive me crazy. Brooks has a family and doesn’t want to be bothered with you.”

“I’m trying to see my daughter live,” he said, softer now, the elephant in the room was sitting between them. “Before I ain’t around to watch it happen. Piggy, life is short. Call him for me.”

The nickname rattled her. She blinked, slow and deliberate, stomach tightening as she fought to stay cool. She hadn’t heard him call her that since she was little, back when life was simple. Paige released a slow exhale and stood up. She gathered her purse and keys.

“Alright, old man.”

Paige kissed the crown of his bald head. “You win today. I’ll go get into something. You sure you’ll be, okay?”

“I made it plenty of years on my own. I got it. Go.”

“Okay. I’ll call you when I make it in.” She adjusted the jacket around his shoulders, her hands lingering for a second longer than necessary. She knew he wasn’t only talking about today. She heard him.

Climbing the corporate ladder was nice. Promotions, titles, clean little boxes to check, none of them were wrong. But what was the point if she forgot how to breathe in the process?

Back in her car, she sat still for a long moment.

Eyes closed. Breathing heavy. She’d been given permission to not worry about perfection, responsibility, or how useful she could be.

She’d been given permission to live a little.

Laugh a little. Let herself be Paige, without apology.

She’d have to trust that everything would be fine.

Honestly, she didn’t have a choice. Her parents had ganged up on her. She was sure to hear it if she let this weekend pass her by without letting the sun kiss her cheeks and the wind caress her skin.

She cracked the windows to let in the heavy summer air and grabbed her phone. Her thumbs moved fast. She texted the steadiest person she knew. Her cousin Brooks.

Paige: Hey, can you scoop my Daddy from dialysis?

Brooks would handle it. He always did. She knew she didn’t have to worry about her father being safe and taken care of with him.

Brooks: Yeah, Davida on Memorial?

Paige: Yes, thank you. I owe you.

Brooks: Get on with that beady bee. We are family.

Paige: Go to hell! But thanks. I’m outside today.

Paige set the phone face-down on the passenger seat and drew in a deep breath, the first real one she'd taken in weeks. The kind that unclenched your stomach and loosened the invisible rope around your ribs. When she finally exhaled, laughter bubbled up and excitement coursed through her veins.

If her parents wanted her to go live a little, she’d go. She was gonna step back into herself, get cute, and find some good trouble.