Best Of Joy

Chapter 9

I lay on the bed for hours, gripping the pillows violently, and sobbing my heart out.

So many childhood memories surfaced in my mind.

Even some repressed ones came back and I quickly wished they would go back to being repressed.

I crushed the pillow to my aching chest, wishing it was Michael.

I knew I was sobbing loudly, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t keep quiet.

So much was coming out of me. So much I had failed to deal with before, and now I was making up for it.

My father. My father had just called me. My father whom I hadn’t talked to in 20 years. The father who had loved me and abused me all in one decade, had just told me he loved me and that he was sober.

That crazy old lady from the tarot shop came to mind.

“Your father loves and misses you.”

She had been right.

An hour or so passed before peace fell over me and I was able to stop crying.

The shock of it was still there of course, but the bad memories were gone and I was now able to focus on the future.

I hoped I would be able to re-build a relationship with my father.

I didn’t care if it wasn’t like the one we had when I was little, I just knew I needed him in my life some way or other. I just hoped he wouldn’t go back on his word and return to his old ways. I hoped that he wasn’t lying and he wasn’t still in his old ways. But he had gone to the trouble to find me, after all. He had to really care. He had to have been sincere.

I heard loud footsteps running up the stairs, then down the hallway, and right to the door.

I heard it open swiftly and soon I smelled my husband’s sweet cologne as he cautiously approached the bed where I was lying, still holding my sides but calm.

I was too exhausted to turn on my other side to face him so I just lay there, waiting for him to lie down with me.

“Evonne?” his voice was worried as ever.

I tried to say something to ease his worry but I couldn’t find my voice. I’d lost it in all the sobbing.

I heard him get closer and closer until he was right there, leaning over me with worried eyes.

He put a hand on my shoulder and with all my strength I motioned for him to lie next to me.

He took off his fedora and glasses, placing them on the chest-of-drawers next to the bed and crawled next to me.

I tried to push myself next to him but I was too weak and drained. He saw me struggling and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me as close to him as possible. I rested my head against his chest, feeling his love, and he rubbed my hair, calmly rocking me in his arms and whispering to me.

“Do you want to talk about it right now,” Michael softly asked.

I nodded yes and tried to find my voice. I pinched my brows together and held my throat, trying to produce a noise within. But I just couldn’t.

I looked up at him and mimed that I couldn’t speak.

He quickly got up and went into the bathroom. I heard the rush of the faucet as he filled a plastic cup with water then lay back down, handing it to me.