Her Legacy

XXII. The Video

On the other hand, I had elevenmessages from Cece. Now that I knew, it seemed she was desperate to talk to me. Something told me we wouldn't be learning much in Spanish in the morning.

I replied to them both, before noticing something on my pillow that hadn't been there earlier when I'd come to grab my phone. It was a CD case.

"Saraphine" was written on the front, in handwriting I didn't recognise. I put my phone down on the nightstand and picked up the CD case. Underneath my name was a yellow post-it. In my mom's handwriting was "play me x".

I opened the case to see a blank DVD, so I immediately grabbed my laptop and opened the disc drive. I placed the DVD inside and waited for it to pop up on my screen. I clicked on it immediately when I saw the notification, and a video started to play.

A shaky camera was directed at a bassinet. The baby was me. I recognised myself from the infant pictures my mom had of me.

"Holy shit," came a male voice from behind the camera. "Oh, fuck," he cursed again. "Don't listen to me, Saraphine!" he pleaded, a hand appearing on screen as he attempted to cover one of my ears.

This was my dad's voice. I was listening to my dad's voice. My jaw was wide open with shock. But in a weird way, I felt like I already knew his voice. Maybe in some way, I'd committed it to memory.

The camera fumbled a little more as he appeared to be setting it up on a tripod, the lens pointing towards my bassinet.

"Amanda!" he called, but in a hushed voice so as not to wake me. "Honey, how do you attach this thing? Oh, never mind, I got it!" And just like that, the camera steadied and the picture wasn't all over the place anymore.

I heard Mom laugh. "Are you okay?" she asked from somewhere in the room. "Don't you dare break that thing," she warned humorously.

"Why, you going to spank me?" he teased.

"Jesus Christ!" Mom cried. "When Saraphine watches this she's going to think her parents are perverts." All of a sudden, my mom appeared on screen. She was standing behind my bassinet, bending over and looking up into the lens. She looked so incredibly young. She was only a couple of years older than I was now. "We aren't perverts," she assured me, and I couldn't help but laugh. "Alright, I'll leave you to it. I've got tonight's Charmed taped, so I'll go watch that and then it'll be time for her nine-thirty feed. I love you, baby."

"Love you more, hon."

I was going to cry. I was going to cry over hearing my parents talk to each other.

Her Southern accent was much more prominent then than it was now. She sounded like a regular Southern Belle.

Mom kissed me in the bassinet, then left us alone in the nursery.

Then my dad appeared on screen, taking a seat behind the bassinet, one hand resting on my blankets. He looked just like he did in the photos that Shea had. Incredibly young, and cheerfully happy.

His eyes were light, like I thought. A beautiful, bright blue. His dark hair was a remnant of the late 90s, early 2000s, floppy era, but it suited him. When he smiled, it was so big that it made his eyes crinkle. He smiled big at me.

"I'm just a bit of a pervert, but only for her," he informed the camera, well me, holding up his thumb and index finger to show me the tiny amount. "Your Mommy is so damn pretty it ought to be illegal." He sighed and looked down at me with a mesmerised expression. "Where to start, angel?" he asked. "I'm not very articulate. Is that the word? Mommy's the smart one. I really hope you're smart like her. If you get my brains, college won't be much fun."