Book One || Coast to Coast
Kiana Brooks and Devontae Carter have two things in common.
1. Wanting to pursue their careers.
2.Romantic relationships are not worth risking it.
As a part time waitress and full time psychology student. Kiana Br...
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We've been at the bakery for only fifteen minutes, and I've already stuffed my mouth with three rolls of buttered Portuguese rolls and downed three glasses of water. I would've preferred something stronger but ─ I'd rather be sober when meeting my father so I can everything I need to. Devontae watches me with a worried expression, '' you, okay?''
I give him and are you kidding me? look, ''yeah, I mean I'm only meeting the man who abandoned me more than ten years ago." He blinks at me, unsure of what to say and I groan, ''I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm freaking out.''
''No shit.'' I make a face at him and stuff my mouth with another roll, ''where is he? He was supposed to be here like ten minutes ago.'' I question looking at my phone for the time, ''Hey, give him time. He's probably stuck in traffic or got lost or hit by a train...'' He trails off, drumming his fingers against the table. ''You'll be fine.' I glare at him while I shoves yet another piece of bread into my mouth, ''easy for you to say.''
''Kiana.'' I look at him, frustrated, ''you'll be okay. I'm here.'' He says, putting his hand on my mine which is resting on the counter, I smile at him gratefully and returns the gesture.
''Kiana?''
I halt my movements, so does Devontae. I have my back facing the direction of the door, but I don't have to turn around to know who it is, ''he's right behind me isn't he?''
He nods, his eyes not leaving the figure behind me. I slowly turn around in my chair, meeting the eyes of the person who had left me when I was just a little girl. Standing only a few feet from me is the man I only vaguely remember, but my mom never did anything from me and my brothers, she was always open and honest and didn't feed us with information to manipulate the way we saw and thought of our father; telling us stories about the things he used to do with them when we were little.
I gradually get up to my feet and carefully near the man I once adored so much.
When we're face to face, I can't help but wonder if this is real. That I could be hallucinating. He's dressed smartly in a three-piece navy-blue suit and black dress shoes, I begin to question my choice of dress but at the same time I remember that we're at a coffee shop and not a fancy restaurant, which is why I picked it in the first place.
I poke him in the chest and jumps back when I realizes that he's there and not my imagination. It's him. He's tall, above six feet, lean but muscular build, and the flat, broad nose he passed on to all his kids. He has a salt and pepper beard which he keeps trimmed and a bald head. Next thing I notice is that he has a walking cane.
''I didn't know that there would be an extra person with us.'' He says, looking at Devontae who's standing behind me.
''Oh!'' I exclaim, ''this is my friend, Devontae. Devontae, this is my da - father.'' I correct myself.
I've accumulated this belief that a dad and a father may be the same thing, but each word holds different meanings. For instance, a father is the male who contributed to making you ─ it's more of a biological term, a dad is a title given to a man who's dedicated to the lifelong duty of emotionally invested in their child/ren. We both know which category he falls into.
