Hello friends,
I've been absent for a while, getting things around the house taken care of and working on many projects but namely Discreetly Yours,.
I wanted to share a small snippet of my work in progress with you, I wasn't sure what part of the story I wanted to share, so I figured I'd just start at the beginning. That's the easiest way right!
I wanted to share a small snippet of my work in progress with you, I wasn't sure what part of the story I wanted to share, so I figured I'd just start at the beginning. That's the easiest way right!
I'm looking forward to finishing this story up and getting it out to you, my goal is to have it available by December.
Please enjoy!
*Prologue*I didn’t understand why God chose to take both of my parents away. My dad always said that everything happened for a reason, no matter if it was something good or bad it had a purpose. He was, of course, referring to my mother. I’d never met my mother, but now my dad was gone too and she seemed to occupy my thoughts more than ever. My mother had died following a cesarean section complication when she had me. What a Valentine’s Day that had been for my father, losing a wife and gaining a daughter could not have been easy. Not a fair trade at all.
When I was little I used to think it was my fault. As I got older, I sort of just developed this odd fear of pregnancy. Everything about pregnancy scared me, stirred a myriad of emotions that made me question who I was, what I was capable of and how I would live my adult life. I went to a friend’s house once for a sleep over and her mom was pregnant. I was so uncomfortable that I’d left in the middle of the night and walked half way home before calling my dad.
Growing up with my father had been wonderful, he provided marvelously for me, taught me that life was what we made it. After his parents, my nana and papa died, the only family I had was my Aunt and her husband who lived all the way in Oregon. They had two children, my Uncle’s son from a previous marriage who was my age, and a daughter who was six and a half that they’d had together.
My Aunt Susan was my mother’s younger sister whom I’d never met either, but I’d received birthday cards from her and my Uncle Troy for years. Somewhere along the line I’d gotten the impression that my Aunt didn’t like my dad. He brought something up once when I suggested we go visit them, saying that that wasn’t the type of surprise my Aunt Susan would appreciate. But I’d never asked him any more about it.
Now as I sat at his funeral I thought about all the questions that would go unanswered, forever. Someone behind me blew their nose loudly, three times, the fourth squeak and pop of the hanky had me turning in my seat to face the balding man behind me. He gave me an apologetic look before turning his attention forward. The funeral home was packed.
Who the hell were all these people anyway? Mostly coworkers and business contacts, some friends I recognized… the rest of them I had no clue, I didn’t really care who they were. At that moment I felt only anger toward them all. The way the woman at the podium, who I didn’t recognize at all, spoke about my father stirred resentment deep inside of me. She made jokes about him sitting up and pointing at all of us and laughing, the whole funeral being a practical joke on us all…as if she knew his sense of humor. I was seething. It wasn't even remotely close to something that my father would have done.
When her eulogy was finally over she motioned for me to approach, I glared at her the entire way up and when I turned to face the sea of faces before me I nearly fainted. I shook my head sadly, not knowing what to say, after a moment I thanked them for being there and suddenly burst into tears before hurrying into a small room behind a thick pair of curtains.
There was a young girl sitting on the sofa, swinging her legs quickly, impatiently. I cried for a few moments in the small quiet room. The girl, who wore a soft pink dress and looked like she could be quite a snot, got up and made her way over to me. She smiled halfheartedly before placing her chubby little hand on my knee for a second and then leaving me. When I finally got myself under control and my courage back, I made my way back to the viewing room, slowly.
I stood there, at the head of my dad’s coffin looking down into his makeup covered face. His thick black hair was swept back and it gleamed in the light of the funeral home. He looked so handsome, even now. I caressed his hair gently with my fingers as I felt someone approach behind me. They were nuts if they thought I’d hurry my goodbye up on their account.
“Hey daddy.” I whispered, hoping no one was listening in to this most private moment. “I just want you to know that I love you. I’m going to Aunt Susan and Uncle Troy’s next week, I’m kind of afraid to start a new school my senior year but I know you’ll be with me.” I sniffed as the person behind me, whom I could now tell was a woman, shifted her weight from one cream colored flat to the other.
I wiped my tears away and took a deep breath before placing a kiss on my father’s cheek. “Tell mom I said hi.” I finished awkwardly.
My father had been in a car accident, he was hit by a driver still drunk from the night before and spent three days in the Intensive Care Unit before he passed away.
The last time I spoke to him was the morning of the accident. He’d driven me to school and I planted a big kiss on his cheek before jumping out of the car to meet my friends. I was on the cheer team and they were all waiting for me to practice before the pep rally that afternoon. We had a big one planned to kick start the season.
“Have a good day princess.” His rich voice had called through the window.I waved at him before joining my friends.
The pep rally was after lunch, the entire school was gathered in the gymnasium, piled into the bleachers. Everyone was participating in the festivities as I stood in the front row of our squad. My classmates in the bleachers were keeping time with the band. Stomp, clap stomp. Stomp, clap stomp. Stomp Stomp, cheer!
My adrenaline was rushing through me as we flipped and twirled waving our pompoms in the air with enthusiasm. The air crackled with electricity as my team mates lifted me high into the air, I stared out into the faces of the sports teams, the drama club and everyone in between. I loved cheer for this feeling. I wanted to bring everyone together even for just a few minutes.
My classmates gasped simultaneously as I lost my balance and plummeted to the ground. It was as if it were happening in slow motion.
As I connected with the basketball court, my hip hit loudly, painfully bouncing me back up a fraction before I thudded back to the hard floor. The gym went silent and loud heels tapped rapidly across the floor as my team hurried to my aid. I got to my feet quickly, embarrassed but distracted. My hip was blooming with red hot pain but I limped off the court.
The woman who had entered was the principal’s secretary; she glanced right at me as she leaned in to my cheer coach Mrs. Adler. Mrs. Adler turned wide eyes to me before hurrying to my side. As she informed me of the accident and my father’s condition, my world toppled a little. My worst nightmare had come true. I cried and cried before blacking out completely. The next thing I remembered was waking up at the hospital; I didn’t even know who’d driven me there.
After my father’s body finally gave out, I went back to our home, still so full of stuff but now more empty than it had ever been. I spent two days at home alone before I was placed in a foster home for less than twenty four hours. Just long enough to sleep and be driven to the airport the next morning by a round woman with bright eyes and a pointy nose.
She made a great dinner of roast beef and potatoes with caramelized carrots. It smelled wonderful, and it felt as if my stomach might rumble. But it didn’t. I poked at my food absently while the small family around me ate and quietly discussed their lives; lives that existed long before I came to stay at their home, and would continue as if I’d never been there, once that plane and I lifted from the tarmac.
Inside a stuffy little room with a small, short bed I pulled out the only photo of my dad I had that wasn’t on my phone. The only photo I had of my mother. It was from their wedding in Seattle, where they’d met. It had an old ticket stub tucked under the glass with the words forever yours written in blue ball point pen, my mother’s writing. My father had crossed it out and written forever her’s under it sometime after she died. Another thing I’d never asked about and now wished that I had.
I smiled as I ran my fingers over his grammatical mistake, he had always told me how big of a stickler my mother had been about it. My mother. She looked stunning, her hair swept up into an elegant, attractive yet free ponytail. Her hand rested delicately on his face as she gazed lovingly into his eyes. She looked at him as if he were the only person in the entire world. Nothing in that moment mattered, nothing but him. Her eyes chided him for not knowing this, yet praised him for being everything, and anything she wanted him to be. Now, they were together again.
I fell asleep cradling that photo in my arms.Copyright © Mari Posa 2013.
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