"Daddy?" She entered the old house, everything was the same - same furnishings, same old paintings and same old smell. It made her emotional,"Dad?" He stood on top of the staircase and looked down at his daughter, he almost didn't recognize her and had to slip on his spectacles to get a better glimpse.
"Maria?" He thought it was his late wife.
"No, Dad. It's me, Rosalinda." He descended slowly, old age taking a toll on his limbs and he wasn't the man he used to be. She hesitantly approached him, not knowing if she should hug him or just stand a safe distance away. The last time she'd seen him he was yelling after her as she left the house. That day. He gave her a weary smile and took hold of both her hands. It was strange seeing her father this old, so frail. He was fifty when she left and now he was sixty-five.
"You look so much like your mother."He chuckled as he thought back on a fond memory of her, his blue-rimmed eyes taking in the sight of his grown daughter,"I guess your here for the funeral."
"Yes, Daddy."
"Ah, it's such a tragedy. Killed while doing something he was so passionate about."
"I just can't believe it." She tried keeping it together,but the tears did not want to go away. He pulled her close and they hugged, there was a comforting silence that hung in the air around them.
"You were so fond of him. I remember, you wouldn't stop talking about him the first time you met him. Cruz this and Cruz that. It was adorable,he was the glue that kept you and Louise together."
"My...best friend."
"It was a true friendship. One filled with so much love and respect."
"It didn't last long. Things got messed up back then, things aren't the same."
"I'll get the kettle going. We'll talk over tea, you've got a lot of explaining to do."
And finally, Rosalinda got the attention she so much craved from her father.
