~Mikayla's pov~
"Mom?"
The woman's head snapped up at the sound of my voice and her eyes told me she was the lady who had given birth to me, taken care of me, and then left.
"Mikayla?"
She was exactly how I remembered her. Fair skin, thin yet full lips, same nose shape, long lashes, eyes, black and straight hair.
I smiled as the tears welled in her eyes. "Yes," I said and nodded.
"Oh, my God, it is you!" She let a couple tears fall as she stood to her feet to pull me into a suffocating hug. But I didn't have a problem with it. She pulled away and grabbed my cheeks in her hands. She kissed my forehead. "How've you been? Are you doing well in school? Has your dad been taking care of you well?" she questioned in a rush.
We sat down in the bench she was sat at earlier. "I've been good and I have good grades." I didn't answer the question about my father. This seemed to go unnoticed by her, though. "How about you?"
A smiled adorned her face. "Well I got remarried and I have a three year old daughter right now and . . . I live in the next town over. Everything has been great for me." She frowned. "How did you know I'd be here?"
I knew this question was to come some time. "I saw the letter you sent my father. I didn't know you were paying child support? Oh, and you mentioned he wanted to talk to you about something having to do with me."
She hummed. "I'm not sure what he wanted to talk to me about, but the last letter he sent me he wrote about custody."
"Oh." I wondered if she'd agree to it if she knew the circumstances, but I didn't expect her to take custody. "Things haven't been the same between him and I."
She nodded. "As he's told me."
"Addy?" we heard a voice. I looked behind me to see the man that had been pushing the little girl on the swing set as she squealed. The nickname he called her by reminded me of when my father would call her 'lemonade'. They said because when they met she smelled like lemons, and her name ended with the sound of ade.
"George," she sighed.
George smiled at me. "And who might this be?"
"Oh, this is the daughter of a friend of mine. Her name's Mikayla," she answered for me. I felt like my heart had stopped beating and dropped to the floor. Why would she lie?
"Well, it's nice to meet you but, um, Addy? Susan needs to use the restroom, so I'll let you catch up." He left, walking away with the little girl's hand in his and walking away.
"I'm your friends daughter?"
She looked ashamed for a second before explaining. "He doesn't know I was married before or had a kid, I can't tell him now."
"Why not?"
She opened her mouth, but at that moment Rocky began barking and growling at her. I looked down at the dog, he has never acted like this before, the only time I heard him bark was to get Jacob's attention. And when he growled it was because we were trying to take the toy out of his mouth but the growling was playing. Now it was menacing and scary.
My mother gasped, putting a hand to her mouth. "Oh, my god! Get that away from me! Please!" she screamed.
I looked at her in confusion. She never had a problem with dogs before.
"Why?" Rocky continued his barking.
She stepped away from the dog. "Because for some reason he doesn't like me."
I shook my head at her. "No, he's nice. Maybe, it's because he doesn't know you?" I tried.
"No! He does know me. I've seen him before, he didn't like me."
"Why can't you tell George about me and my father?" I questioned when I had been able to get Rocky to calm down.
"Because . . . Because . . . ." she trailed off.
I sighed, trying to keep the upcoming tears at bay. "You know what? Maybe I should get Rocky away from you. Along with me," I added in.
I was humiliated because I had thought I actually had a chance of gaining the relationship I had with this lady back when she had obviously left us for a reason. I turned away and began walking to the direction of my house.
"No, Mikayla! Come back, please," she pleaded.
Rocky was beside me, still growling about my mother, but stood quiet when my breaths started getting rugged.
Walking to my house was agonizingly slow because all I wanted to do was crash into my bed and cry because I had no family left. I don't know if my parents had any brothers or sisters, that were uncles and aunts to me, and if they had kids of their own, that would be cousins to me. They ran away together and they never mentioned anything about their child years once when I'd ask, and eventually I stopped asking.
I opened the door to my house and stumbled in when I pushed the door open with my body weight. My father was there, sober now and sitting down on the same couch he slept in with his hands clasped and elbows resting on his thighs. He looked up at me and took in my appearance and then Rocky next to me, but didn't say anything. I noticed there was a bottle of beer he didn't use last night still on the table he was in front of. I walked towards it without a word and stole it from him before leading myself and Rocky to my room upstairs.
When I closed the door of my room, I dropped the leash and dropped down on my bed, face first, bottle still in hand as I waited for the sound of a door closing I knew I was going to hear in a couple seconds.
3 . . .
2 . . .
And the front door shut before I could get to one.
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a/n:
•really depressing, I know. heads up: next chapter will be depressing as well. sorry!
•vote if you liked this chapter I've stirred up for you & comment your thoughts, i take constructive criticism!
•love you all to bits, remember that. Muwah!
12-22-2014