A Siren's Sorrow

3

The front door slams shut, and the sound echoes through the whole penthouse. I perk up from my window seat, half in wonder of what will happen next and the other half in total dread. My father had me locked away in here for the majority of the day, and there's no telling why, what he's thinking, or what he'll decide to do next.

His footsteps wander around the apartment, and his nightly conversations with the walls picks up earlier than usual. I move to press my ear against the door, but the words are still muffled.

"Poppa?" My tongue forms the word before I can think better of it. "Pops, please, let me out of here, or at least explain why you had me locked in my room."

It's like a coin flip. The lock to the door clicks and hand turns. My father is the same eerie calm I had seen him earlier. "I'm sorry about the misunderstanding, Elinor. I had asked James to watch over you until I had gotten back."

"So he thought it more efficient to lock me in my room and leave?" I question, doubtful of any truth to this story. "Pops, please, just tell me what's going on. You've been acting odd lately."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He coos and lifts a hand to brush over my hair. "Things have been difficult lately, but I want to make it up to you. Consider it an apology for how distrusting I've been and an early birthday celebration. Just until I can find a proper gift for my wonderful daughter."

Something in me knows this isn't right—that there is something wrong. Yet, my heart is too happy to see my Pops being his kind, loving self that it's hard to care. It feels like an eternity of that troubled look on his face, that sadness always lingering, and moods that come out of nowhere. Any sliver of happiness feels like a blessing, and I'll take in any dose I can get.

"Sure thing, Pops." I smile half-heartedly. "Maybe it will give us a chance to talk about what's been going on lately. We haven't really been talking much."

"Yes, yes." He mutters and pats down his pockets in search of something. "Why don't you go get ready, and we can go to that restaurant on West 44th that you love so much."

"Really? And here I thought you hated that place. You always complain that it's too expensive and such." I smile at the fact that he remembered.

Although, he doesn't know why I love it so much. Tommy and I sneak in sometimes before our nights at the jazz club. It's always so snazzy and luxurious; the place has some lovely memories for me. Plus, we get to socialize and spend time with some of the biggest names in theater and the press if you pick the right time of night.

"Well, I'm sure I can handle it for one night if it means that I can make my daughter happy." For a moment, that strange look is gone, and all that's left is the father I knew as a child. "Now go get ready, Elinor. Then we can head out."

I press a kiss to his cheek and ignore the sinking feeling in my gut. There is so much about this that is screaming for me to not follow along. But it's hard for me to ignore that my father is being so sweet and kind like he used to be before Mum left. It's a comfort that I can't deny; I've missed it far too much.

Still, I know how much Tommy and Theta would be lecturing me for going along if they knew the situation. Even I'm starting to think I'm a little insane as we climb into my Pop's car. Especially as that foggy look returns to Pop's eyes, and my stomach starts to churn at the sight.

The feeling only worsens as we pass by the familiar restaurant. "Pops, I thought we were going to Sardi's? You just passed the street."

"Oh, yes. I have a small surprise ready for you before we get dinner." He says it so calmly that it makes panic flutter through me. For a split second, I consider trying to jump out when he slows down to stop and making a run for it. Especially as he takes a turn down one of the seedier streets and stops in front of a dingy shop.