Memory Documentation

chapter twenty two | documenting the same but different

Even if my back was aching with pain as a result.

The couch cushion lowered as a new presence took Chris's spot next to me. Seeing Papa's deep frown was like an injection of dread into my bloodstream. I wanted to eject my soul from my body like an escape pod.

"Are you hurt, honey?" he asked me.

I shook my head, determined to play cool. "No, Papa. I'm okay."

With a deadpan look, he handed me a frozen package of berries. "I saw you holding your back when you walked in. Don't lie to your old man."

I sighed, accepting defeat, and gratefully took the frozen fruit from his hands to position it into place on my back. I let out another sigh, this time in soothed relief. Jessica, who had been on the concerned side of the spectrum, patted my knee in sympathy and gave me a smile that said "Well, good luck, kiddo" before going down the hallway towards Camryn's room.

I couldn't tell what Papa was thinking. He's been nearly silent since showing up to Principal Gatzy's office with Mark. Either way, it pained me to know I must have disappointed him. I reached for his hands and pressed them to my forehead."I'm so sorry, Papa. He was just standing up for himself – and for us. Please don't be mad," I pleaded, adding with a whimper, "This isn't exactly how I wanted you to find out that me and Chris are together now."

"I agree that a call about a fight regarding my daughter's new boyfriend is not the most ideal, no."

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Please don't think bad of him, Papa," I whispered. With witness reports from me, the gang, and Bridgit, the official story Principal Gatzy told our parents was that Tony had instigated the confrontation and made the first contact in terms of fighting. However, Tony's shove was less damaging than the way Chris had shoved and pinned Tony to the damn floor. It was filed as a fight, but the consequences were no more than a slap on the wrist and a warning not to do it again. I slumped in relief as Papa echoed the sentiment.

"I'm not mad – this time," he said. "I'm glad nobody was seriously hurt, but I don't want it to happen again. Ever. Hear me?"

I quickly nodded in agreement while at the same time wishing I could telepathically bombard the boys with the words THANK YOU for stopping Chris when they did. This could have been a lot worse, but were we home-free?

"So..." I said, slowly. "Is it okay that we're... together now?"

Papa looked away, leaning his elbows onto his knees as he thought. I twisted my braid tight around my fingers, slowing my breath as if a sound too loud would negatively influence his answer. After an excruciatingly long moment of consideration, Papa said, mostly to himself, "Kids. They don't stay just ours forever, do they?"

His words nearly stopped my racing heart. "Oh, Papa..."

He waved a dismissing hand."Let's skip the threatening dad script and jump to the important stuff, hmm?" I froze as he reached forward and gently took the pearl necklace between his fingers. Part of me felt surprised. For a while, I didn't know if Papa realized I'd been wearing his love's necklace everyday. I wondered if it felt weird for him to see it worn by two women he cared for so deeply.

"Papa?"

His smile was warm, but his eyes turned watery. "Your happiness is mine. To be alive and in love is an honor that we don't get forever. So don't forget to cherish every single moment, my little north star."

This time, the tears did spill. I leaned in and wrapped my arms tight around the first man to show me what it looks like to love and be loved. The first man to say "I love you" – and to show it and say it everyday after my adoption until my trauma-trained brain rewired from "I'm not worthy of love" to "I am worthy of love."