The Optimist

thirty two

So like, this story sucks, I know. But it's FRY-day! So I had to, lol. Lucille on the side or above for all of you guys on the app. I know right? How can someone leave her? :(

Nadia

. . .
 

The next day, I feel like a new, refreshed me.

Talking to the man made me feel a lot better. Despite Jacob popping up at every given moment, I was overall happy with the advice that the poor, sick man gave me.

"Just rememba' it ain't ya fault." He said. It's was something, something I don't know. Maybe it was my pitying for him and his weak lungs, or maybe it was his accent, but I know it was something shining about that man that's refusing to show. He made me feel.. alive again.

I even smiled at the old man and pecked his pinchy cheek. He'd told me that I reminded him of his granddaughter, my kind sincerity and trust towards others, but voluptuous vulnerability.

I just smiled.

"Nadia? Hello?"

"Earth to Nadia!"

I jump out of thought about the man who I never got to know him or his name or problems as I hear the sound of an almost screaming Nathan. Lucille giggles at me and waves, climbing into my lap.

She's so tiny and a bit unhealthy, but Mom is working on getting her a little bigger to normal size, possibly even start back school again. It's nothing for her to be in my lap.

Her little butt bones (as silly as it sounds) actually tickle my thighs. I resist the urge to smile at the funny tingling as she takes my glasses again.

To avoid disappointment, I let her hold and play with them. The whole world is a blur and of all things I can spot Jacob's puff atop his face, a tanned blur.

"Were you thinking about that old man again?" Even though I can't see them clearly, I can feel the curious stares of Nate, Jacob, and Mom, but I simply nod them off.

"Why?"

Nathan grabs his skinny jeans and multi-patterned flannel shirt from bar of his hospital bed, pulling down the white little dress he's worn for two days. He leaves the room quickly to change into them. He slips into the bathroom, the white door sealing with a soft click. I hear the shifting of items on the counter that Nathan's doing on the other side of the door when the room is silent, awaiting my answer.

"Because of what he said, I guess?" I shrug. "I felt so heavily and so guiltily about Dad's
situation being my fault, but all I needed was an unknown to tell me that. Someone I didn't know. Someone random." I don't spill my heart out as I speak, though, not with Lucille here and Mom's already wryly bent heart.

Dad's sickness has only getting worse and it scares us all, even Lucille . The doctors are taking forever to find a way to drain the blood from Dad's back without hitting any major arteries, but all of the ideas they cough up only go back down when they find a at least one complication with each idea.

They'll shared their ideas with us, and honestly, many were smart, creative, and most likely usable. But, either Dad would disagree, Mom would disagree, or the doctors themselves would rethink it enough to omit it.

Disappointment, fear, and heartbroken-ness always washes over me when they rejects a smart idea. Each idea they shared shed a new layer of hope over me, but it always crushed away to shreds when they say, "It won't work." or "Too risky."

Dad's vulnerability to riskiness and failed operations (he reads the newspaper a lot, and a lot of times it's the bad things happening in the world.) have caused him to be iffy and suspicious about operational decisions.

Oh, and Mom. Mom.

She's scared of the world, let alone risky operations. She's been stressed so much with the options and risk of possible failure and of adopting Lucille. I only added on to her stress (unwillingly and unknowingly) after countless rants, small begging speeches, and a little charm to get her to go to court and take Lucille in as a part of the family.

Besides, her "papa" hasn't come back in the three days we've been in and out of the hospital. She does a really good job at hiding the pain of rejection, but what does she know? She's five, and she still believes that he's coming back.

Soon will drift to one day will drift to never.

It hurts my heart more than hers to add on top of the stress of Dad knowing well that her papa is never returning. He probably even forgot. I shake the poor, depressing thoughts to the back of my mind when I realize everyone is now occupied despite my lack of communication.

Lucille had placed my glasses back on, incorrectly of course, and the feeling of embarrassment washes over me when I realize Jacob may have seen the idiotic look on my face, glasses crooked and a straight ahead gaze while I was drowning in my thoughts. I must have looked slow, maybe even mentally retarded.

I peek over at him, stroking Lucille's hair lovingly. Being an only child, he could definitely use a sibling more than I. Nathan was already a handful to me, but I realize being an only child may have taught Jacob all kinds of things, like how to care for their brothers and sisters equally.

Maybe, Jacob's lonely and I never thought about how he may feel. I watch the two giggle at a distance and it's then I notice a familiar cereal-headed boy beaming with him fangs as he pokes at Nathan's nose.

Chresanto.

When did he come in? How long have I been in my thoughts? Did he even notice my presence.

I don't drone on these questions as I wave at him quickly. He waves back and they turn back to their adorable little romantic antics that make my heart melt. In a good way, this time.

Mom's gone. I check the bathroom unnoticeably before

"She was crying. She just, left." Lucille says behind me, toying with a lock of Jacob's hair. I giggle horrifically at her, wondering how she managed to incredulously access his hair.

His Afro.

Jacob, as if on cue, steps in. "I'll tell you how she got scissors later because I know you're probably already wondering why she's got a lock of my hair." Jacob giggles.

Oh, I swear he can read right through my thoughts!

"But, maybe you should look for her? She told me she was fine, and to stay, but I'm still iffy about actually listening to her. So, go our and fine her. Tell her it's okay even. Be optimistic. Be like that old man." Jacob nudges my shoulder and smirks, pecking me on the lips. He earns a cute glare from Lucille who squirms her face together in disgust, and Jacob and I share a laugh.

I think for a minute, pondering to myself silently on Jacob's words. Then, u have them! The words. I know exactly what I'm going to say to her. I smirk and exit, on the hunt for Mom.

. . .

Ignore the mistakes guys, sorry. I wrote this up really fast lol. Kay bai, love you all! -Yours Truly, MO-cha Coke-a (ah, see what I did there?) No? Oh.. Okay?