Coffee? Wait, what does coffee have to do with anything? I try to listen some more, but Dad is quiet. He's listening to whatever this John guy has to say. Who's John anyway? I never heard Mom mention him before, have I?
" I know, I know. I get that now. I fired so many people because of this ... I tried to find someone to take the blame, turns out it was always my fault ... Don't justify me, John ... She's upstairs- with my daughter. ....Yes, my daughter, John! I have a daughter! In fact, that's the only reason why Ana was in my office that night, to tell me about our second child ... Exactly. ....Phoebe. ...My thoughts exactly. Of all the names, she chose my suggestion. ....Do you believe so? ....I suppose that makes sense. You must meet her, John, she's literally an angel. A beautiful, mesmerizing angel that looks just like her mother....Ted? Oh, my boy. I only just saw him again and I'm already immensely proud of him."
My stomach churns. He's proud of me? Wow, Dad's proud of me. I know Mom is, but to hear this from Dad, it's so foreign to me. I didn't grow up with a father figure, so this is extremely new. I'm not used to this, but I notice that I have a huge grin on my face. Jesus.
"I don't know. He's possibly still with his mother. ..." I hear footsteps coming closer. Oh, shit! He's coming! I quickly scram and head to the left where one of the grand living rooms are. I dive into the big plush leather couch and from the coffee table, I pull a book towards me and open it. "Ted." I hear Dad's voice in the entrance hall. He's most likely yelling from the bottom of the staircase. "In here!" I stutter, and I hear long foot steps stride closer. He appears with an iPhone splattered on his ear. He frowns. What happened to his dinosaur of a blackberry? "What are you doing here?" He asks and I raise the book. "Reading." And I cross my left leg over my right knee. He cocks his head to one side. "Pretty interesting. Great taste in literature." I give him a thumbs up and he smirks. "The Ascent of Money, by Niall Ferguson?"
- "Uh yes." I read the cover an internally cringe. "...It's a sleeping tactic." And he laughs loudly, tossing his head back. I roll my eyes at him. "Did you hear that, John? He's also a comedian." Dad breathes and wipes a tear. It wasn't that funny. "Yes, of course." He gives me the phone. "Who is it?"
- "John Flynn. Very good friend of mine." Dad has friends? I smirk and he narrows his eyes. "Yes, surprising as it is, I do have friends."
I take the phone and place it on my ear. "Hello?"
- "Ted? Hello, nice to meet you. Well, technically we've already met. But you wouldn't remember that, would you?" He's British. I've never met a British before. I only hear them in movies. "No, sorry. Mr. Flynn, right?"
- "Doctor." Dad says and I arch my mouth. "Dr. Flynn?" He chuckles. "John is fine. Listen, son. I'm going to let you in on a little secret."
- "Oh, okay, sure." Dad leans in and I scoff at him, walking to the other side of the couch. He frowns. "I haven't heard your father laugh like that in years. Nor heard such enthusiasm, such happiness. He's genuinely ecstatic that his family is by his side now. Try to help him out with your mother, okay?" I turn at Dad and gaze at him, and he back. I don't know what possesses me to say this, but I do it. "Why should I?" I ask, and Dr. Flynn is quiet in the other line. Dad looks nervous and frankly, so am I. "Because It wasn't his fault." What? What wasn't his fault? "What do you mean?"
- "I'm sorry, Ted. It's all I can tell you."
- "Wait, what?"
- "Tell your mother I say hello. Hopefully, my trip goes smoothly and I return to America soon. Have a good night."
- "You too, sir," I mutter, and the line ends.
Wasn't it his fault? Does he mean the coffee thing? I don't understand, I'm more confused than ever. I hand the phone to Dad and he takes it, jamming it in his pocket. "What did he say?" He says wearily and I shrug. "That he hasn't heard you laugh like that in a while. " Dad rolls his eyes. "Well, he's not exactly the comedic type." I chuckle. "He also says that I should help you with Mom."
- "And I suppose that's why you asked that. Why should you." He presses his lips. Oh, great. Now I feel bad about that. Dammit, Ted, will you ever learn to chose your words correctly? "I just wanted to know why he thinks I should. You know, second opinion." And Dad smirks like he has a secret joke. What's so funny, old man? "What did he say?" His mood shifts to a serious one. "He didn't say." I lie and he looks relieved. Hmm.
Dad sighs and sits slouching on the couch. I lean on the arm of the couch, staring into space, trying to decipher what the good doctor had informed me. "Ted." I whip my head to Dad, and It kinda hurt. Jesus. He pats the side of the couch. Why does it feel like I'm about to get the talk? I stand and sit a couple of inches away from him and I rest my elbows on my laps. He inhales and sits up, imitating my position. "Throughout the years, your mother hasn't been acquaintanced with other men, has she?"
- "Acquaintanced? What do you mean?"
- "You know." He moves his hands in a circular motion, trying to find the correct words. His eyes search the roof for answers. I smirk at him."Dated?" I suggest and he nods, still trying to find other synonyms. "Relations?" I raise an eyebrow. He taps his nose. "I wouldn't know. But I know for a fact that Mom has a lot of callers in our town." I rub my chin. His eyes are narrowed and his lips pressed. They become dark and I don't think he hears my ironic tone. "Pipe down, I'm kidding." I roll my eyes at him. "Mom has been prey for middle aged men for as long as I can remember. But most always ran off after meeting me. I always gave them a hard time, according to Mom. One man, I remember, his name was Mel, actually proposed to Mom, and she said she'd say yes if he would take me out. Four hours later, the poor guy shipped himself to the Southern Hemisphere."
Dad laughs loudly, his deep cackle echoing throughout the room. "What did you do to the man!" He gasps and I smirk. His laugh is incredibly contagious. "That, I don't remember. I think it was something about a cigarette lighter in his car- Oh yes! I had pressed it, pulled it out and tossed it at him." He stops and gapes at me crosses his arms.
Uh oh.
"...On a stop light," I lie. And he raises an eyebrow. "As dangerous as that was," He elbows me. "That's my boy." And I suddenly feel a fuzzy warm feeling. "I guess I unconsciously knew Mom was off limits." I shrug.
After a long moment of silence, I break it. "Hey." I become serious and he transitions with me. "Speaking of Mom. Go easy on her." And he frowns as if remembering something. "I get that you want her to take you back. That's cool and all, and I promise not to throw a cigarette lighter at you," we laugh. "...but you're coming on too strong." He has a melancholic smile. He's definitely remembering something. "Perhaps you know by now that Mom tends to put up barriers. She doesn't like talking about things,"
- "Frustrating, isn't it?" He says and I nod, "So you just gotta be patient. Ease her into it." He smirks. What's so funny? Honestly, I don't get him sometimes. "I love the connotations that you're using." The what? You know what, nevermind. I'll figure him out as time goes. "I'll keep that in mind." He sighs and there's silence once more.
"So uh, Sophie." I mutter. Dad turns to me and smirks. "What about her?" I twiddle my thumbs, kind of embarrassed. "She's um, pretty cool." he grins at me. "That, she is."
- "Does she not live here? Or..."
- "Sophie has a small fortune from her modeling career. She wanted a place of her own, so I sold her one." What. "Yes. Her father didn't want me to gift her an apartment, so I sold it to her instead."
- "An apartment?"
- "Yes. In a building called Escala." Damn. She doesn't live here anymore. Talk about a fairy god father. Suddenly, I'm moody. "You used to be very smitten by her." I flush. "Still am." He chuckles and pats me on the back. "She's a bit older than you, don't you think?" I glare at him. "Uh, excuse me. How old are you again?" He laughs loudly again, and this time I can't help but laugh as well. I made a funny.
Afterwards, Dad takes me to the second floor and fixes me a room. He didn't want to wake Mrs. Taylor, so he opens a door with a master key and brings me clean blankets. Holy shit, these rooms are bigger than the Hotel room Mom and I stayed in in the Heathman. I notice on the corner of the room that my bags are there. How the hell? I open one and pull out a white tee and my black Platt pjs. "You can freshen up there." he points at an open door which I believe is the bathroom. "If you need anything, I'm three corridors away."
- "Okay." I fold my clothes and put them on my arm. "Remember that your mother and sister are four doors down. "Got it." I stride to the bathroom and close it behind me. "Goodnight." he raises his voice so that I hear. Lay off, already! "Goodnight, old man," I say back. After a few seconds, the door closes and I roll my eyes.
After the most elegant shower I've ever taken, I toss on my clothes and dive into the bed. Holy smokes, that's comfortable. I bury myself in the clean duvet and nuzzle the pillow. Oh, hell yeah. This feels amazing. I look around the strange room, the modern white with blue furniture, the light gray curtains, and beige rugs. I feel guilty just thinking about it but, I might be able to get used to this after all.
~
Phoebe
My eyes spring open. It's dark. Where am I? Mom? Oh, she's next to me. She's asleep. She still has her clothes on. I stretch and yawn and hop down from the tall bed. I go around the bed and remove Mom's sandals. Oh, she's very cold. I pull the big blanket on her, covering her entire dress. There. She's nice and warm. My Mom is very pretty when she's asleep. "I love you..." Mom mumbles and I jump. Oh, that scared me! I love you too, mommy! I giggle and tiptoe to the opened door. Wow! Are we in a castle? I walk down the long hallway, looking around in the dark. I'm not afraid of the dark. I used to be afraid, but Mom and Teddy say that I shouldn't be afraid. So I'm not. This place is huge. I wonder where I am. Where's Teddy? Daddy! Where is he? I turn the corner and there's another long and dark hallway. Oh...
Don't be afraid Phoebe! I quietly tiptoe down the hallway. There are picture frames and statues and vases decorating the hallway. I reach the end of the hallway and I'm in front a big staircase made out of rock. Whoa! I look up at the giant dim lamp hanging on the ceiling. I look down and see a giant wooden door. there's more hallways down there. I'm about to go down the stairs, but I hear a muffled voice. A tired voice. A... scared voice? I look to my left, and the next hallway is just as dark as the last. Don't be afraid, Phoebe!
I shakily tiptoe down that hallway and three doors down, I hear strong panting. It sounds like someone finished running up a mountain. I slowly turn the shiny knob and peek inside. It's a man. He's sitting on the other side of the bed, facing the window. His big strong back is slowly moving up and down. "Daddy?" He gasps and quickly turns to me. It is Dad. "Phoebe?" He sounds tired. He wipes sweat from his forehead and I enter, running and jumping on his bed.
I crawl to him and stand on my knees. His heart is beating so fast! Oh no! "What's wrong?" I'm scared, is he dying? "Nothing, sweetheart. I just had a bad dream." He exhales. My daddy had a nightmare! I hug him and he suddenly stops moving. "It's okay, Daddy. I'm here." I nuzzle his shoulder and he places a hand on my cheek. "I'm glad you are." He shows me a sad smile and I jump out of bed and run to his restroom. Towel, towel. Oh! I get a small white towel from a golden hoop and wet it on the sink. '"Phoebe?" He peeks inside. He's frowning and I can see the shine in his cheek.
I rinse the towel and try pushing him back to the bed. "When Teddy has nightmares," I grunt. He's heavy! "...Mommy puts a wet towel on his forehead." I try to push him down to sit, but he sits by himself and I climb onto his lap. I hold onto his shoulder so I don't fall and with the other hand, I wipe his face and neck with the wet towel. He's super tall, even when he's sitting. "There. All better." I smile at him and he gazes at me. His cheeks are pink. I hope he doesn't have a fever. I touch his forehead with the back of my hand, but he's cool. Phew.
"Teddy had a nightmare not too long ago." I say as I climb off his lap. "He did?"
- "He did. He was screaming horribly. He was calling you." His eyes grow big under the light of the moon coming from the window. "Calling me?"
- "Yes. He screamed, dad, dad! It was scary." I shiver as I remember Teddy kicking and screaming. He almost hurt Mom, but she told me not to say anything. "Did he now..." He whispers looking down. "We all love you, you know." He quickly looks up to me, shocked by what I said. "Mommy loves you a lot. And Teddy, Teddy loves you a lot too. I also love you a lot." I smile at him and he smiles at me back. I accidentally yawn loudly. Oops! "Still sleepy?" he smirks.
- "A little, yes." I rub my eye. He carries me up and places me next to him and he lays down. "Sleep." He says softly and caresses my face. "Okay." And pretty soon my eyes start closing. "My beautiful baby girl." I hear, and then I sleep.
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