Memory Documentation

chapter nine | documenting who has my love

"Yeah." Marissa tilted her head, curious. "What are you going to do tonight, Darcy?" she asked.

"Oh, I think my dad and I are just going to chill tonight. Watch the ball drop on TV and all the chaos down at Times Square," I replied.

Bryson nodded, leaning back on his arms. "So, it's just you and your dad, huh? I get it. My parents are divorced, too."

My heart began to pick up pace. I could see where this conversation was heading, and I wasn't sure if I was ready for it. Everything – the bullying, the rumors, the years of isolation – rattled my brain. I squeezed at my braid.

Caught in the act. Catastrophizing again.

It's not a big deal. We're not kids anymore. I repeated internally, over and over.

I wonder how much Chris told them about me. He may have talked about me to them before, but has he told them about how he met me? How he made friends with a little orphan girl on one crazy night? It's the truth. It's my truth. Why should I be ashamed?

"Not divorced. Adopted." I forced a smile, then focused my attention on collecting everyone's dried up sparklers so I didn't have to see their reactions. "Um, I was in an orphanage when I was six. My dad took me in ten years ago. He's old – seventy this year, but he's the greatest dad I could have ever asked for."

The words showed less resistance coming out when they were about Papa. I could boast about him for hours, to anyone. I could tell them about how he would buy me sugary cereal for dessert only, not breakfast. The little bedside fan that he likes to sleep facing towards. All the British movies he likes to watch. How he'll pay any amount of money for tea that tastes like soap (to me).

"I was bullied a lot for it when I was a kid, but I guess some kids don't know any better. He's the best thing to happen to me, so I shouldn't be ashamed," I continued softly.

I was afraid to raise my eyes and survey their reactions, but Marissa was the first to reach out and squeeze my shoulder. "Sorry to hear that, Darce. You really shouldn't be ashamed," she said. "He sounds like a lovely dad." The others smiled and nodded, and I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Yeah," said Cooper. "And some kids are actual devils. Trust me, I would know. Lots of them in the family friend group."

"This is why I don't want kids," Philip whispered to Marissa, to which she dismissed with a "we'll talk about that later" look.

"Sounds like you guys are really close. I'd like to say hi to him some day," Bryson added.

"We own a place called Brewing Café. It's where we first met and now we own it. You guys should come visit. Just look for someone who kind of looks like Santa Claus and that's him."

"Got it." Cooper winked. "We'll drop by next year."

✿❀✿

As the rest of the world was still waking up, the four of us were nibbling on left over bagels and playing games connected to Cooper's TV. By the time I wished everyone a happy new year and left the apartment, I was feeling light as air. Those four lifted me to clouds I rarely ever reached. Just like Chris, they raised my spirits so high that my anxieties and insecurities failed to find me, and I was left smiling and untroubled.

I took that feeling and ran to one of the only other places that I knew would nurture it: to the café. With that dynamic bunch running this place, how could I ever feel like I didn't belong? The Brewing Cafe was a local restaurant. It's a small business with a small staff, but they were the extended family I never had. I could always count on Ben to hug and crack a joke whenever I felt down. Ronnie will surely be one step behind, bearing menacing threats to anyone who dare hurt me. Evan felt like an uncle I could confide in, and the chefs spoil me rotten with treats. They had all my love.