To Grieve, Learn and Let Go (Pedro Pascal/Joel Miller Inspired Story)

The Flashback

"I'm sure it's different for you." I say in a not so happy tone, still looking elsewhere. I have no interest in having a conversation with him that doesn't have anything to do with his adventures. I'm sure he's lived a fun life not worried about taking care of anyone but himself.

I heard him sigh. "I'm trying to lighten the mood, Mia. Don't sound like that."

"I have no interest in making conversation with you that isn't about what you planned to tell me."

He looked hurt but paints it with a gentle smile. "I...I understand that you're mad at me and you're still wondering why I'm here and what I have to say, and we'll get to that. But for now, can we just at least try to make this a casual father and daughter lunch?" 

I wanted to say something to him to make him realize that I didn't see this as a casual father and daughter lunch, but this is not the time or place to do so. Unwanted attention at a family friendly place is not something I'd want. I took a look at the menu to avoid looking at him and eventually decided on what I wanted to order.

The waiter came back with our drinks in hand and hands them over to us. He reopened his notepad and took out his pen. "Alright, have you both decided on what you want to order, or do you need more time?"

My dad closed the menu. "I'll have the bacon cheeseburger and fries, son. Make it medium well."  He handed the menu to the waiter. 

The waiter repeats the order for conformation and goes to me. "And for you, miss?" 

I looked over at the menu again before handing it to him. "I'll have the three-cheese grilled cheese and fries. Could you add seasoning salt too if you have any?" I saw my father's face curve into a warm one. I saw his cheeks turn a light red. 

"Sure, we can!" The waiter repeats our order once more before heading off to place the order. The 1950s themed music that had been playing at in the bistro is now a calm but still upbeat. It's sort of calming me down a bit and the loud noise was also decreasing. I took a small glance at my dad to see if he still had that expression on his face, and he still did. I wondered what I said or did to make him look that way. 

Because I was curious, I asked. "What's with that face?" I sit my back against the seat and leaned against the wall. 

He took a generous gulp of his peach lemonade, wiped his mouth and mustache with a napkin, before saying, "It's just that you still order grilled cheese and fries." He said with a soften smile. 

"I'm not the only one who does it. It's just grilled cheese and fries. It's a childhood favorite for everyone. Probably was your favorite when you were a kid too."

"Well yeah, but it's adorable how my little girl hasn't changed." I wanted to recoil when he said that. I shrugged and went to sip my raspberry iced tea. 

"Grilled cheese was your favorite. You always had to have it for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I remember how you'd always begged me to put two and half slices of cheese instead of three. And your fries had to be between crispy and soft with seasoning salt." He said all of that while playing it out with his hands. "You loved it."

"I was a kid." I said, as I took another sip of my drink. 

"Of course, you were."

"Then why is it such a fond memory for you, Pedro?" 

"Pedro?" He said with a raised eyebrow. Me calling him by his name did catch him off guard. "Don't call me that. I'm your father. Soy tu papa." 

"Yes, a father for only ten years and a stranger for seventeen years. You're Pedro Miller. A sperm donor, not my dad." 

"Oh my g-" He looked to the ceiling as if asking for help from the Heavens above. "I don't feel comfortable with you addressing me with my name, Mia. And throwing in sperm donor is a bit much." 

I'm getting a little heated. He doesn't seem to get it. "How do you think I feel about addressing you as Dad, when you haven't been since I was ten? You keep talking about these memories of you and me. It's not helping the situation we're in." 

"Okay, I get your point, Mia. I'm just reminiscing on these memories of you and me. Me and my little girl." 

"And?" 

"And?" He repeated, seemingly offended. "Is it wrong for me to share these memories with my own daughter?"

"What's wrong is that you're sharing these memories with me as if I'm expected to react all happily and lovingly. Like I'm supposed to be that same little girl. You left me when I was ten. And sitting here at this bistro having a meal with you is not going to make up for it." I had to let him know that this was the truth. I had to let him know that this was not an easy thing for me to get over and that this was serious, whether it hurt him or not. But deep inside I wanted him to hurt just like me.

I think he's realizing it but not entirely. He slipped out a deep sigh, pushing his drink to the side and hunched over the table just a bit with closed hands. "I um-I get how upset you are with me, and you have every right to be. I won't take that feeling away from you. I won't invalidate your feelings because I know that I messed up. But once I tell you my reason, you will understand why. If you don't like what you hear, and still have these bitter feelings about my disappearance, you can absolutely forget me.  I won't bother you or show my face again. Are we clear, Mia?" 

I remained silent. It's so hard to look at him. I'm trying so hard to keep the tears from falling out of my eyes. 

"Mia, look at me." I hesitant looked at him. "I said are we clear?" He repeated. 

"Yeah." 

"Then...okay." The waiter comes our table with our food just in time. 

"Alright, you two enjoy your meal! Will be back to check in with you." The waiter went away to attend to upcoming guests at the door.

With our food set before us, I feel a small knot in my stomach as a flashback of my young dad playing music in our old kitchen as he cooked me the very meal that was in front of me. It was the 2000s and he was dancing to one of his favorite 1980s hits while wearing long all black mickey mouse pajama pants and a plain black t shirt. The kitchen had the old 1900s wallpaper with vintage ornaments all over. I was sitting in the dining area watching him dance in the kitchen and sing his heart out to the music he grew up with and I was laughing as he entertained me while making the grilled cheese and fries. 

As my flashback intensified, I felt a tear stream down my face, and I snapped back into reality. I quickly wiped the tear off my face to avoid my dad from seeing. That flashback felt like an eternity. 

My dad doesn't seem aware of what I just experienced thankfully but I couldn't bring myself to start eating. My dad looked at me as he's about to bite into his burger. "Go on, babygirl. Eat up." 

I feel strange. This is something I've never experienced before.