Elaine's POV
As the alarm clock sets off at seven AM sharp, I'm already awake, eyes staring into the white ceiling with the utmost impatience. I've been up for the past two hours, unable to fall back asleep, tossing back and forth in the sheets, glancing every now and then at the glowing red numbers only to see a minute has passed by every time.
There's no doubt in my mind what the source for my trouble sleeping -- there was something missing. Someone missing. This was the first time in five years that I have slept by myself and woke up to nobody else in the room but me. Even when Charlotte wasn't born yet, I was never alone.
Not wanting to waste one more second, I roll out of bed and shoot India a text that I'm on my way to pick up Charlotte.
I throw on some manageable clothes and decide to skip breakfast. My appetite has been nonexistent since last night. Besides, there's no one to cook for anyway. Chris suddenly stumbles out from the bathroom and I lean back to see him wearing nothing but a pair of navy blue briefs, reminding me that having Charlotte sleep over at my friend's place wasn't so bad after all.
I'd give him a good scolding if Charlotte was here to witness him like this.
Though I'm still upset with him, I won't hold anything against him. He's done so much for the both of us. I can't ever repay him for that.
"You okay?"
He glances at me and squints, the light of the morning blinding him.
"Yeah, fine," he mumbles while scratching his head of a bird nest. "How did I get here last night?"
"I've no clue. I was wondering that myself. Do you remember anything from last night?"
"Ummm .. " he scratches his head again and pouts his lips as he searches through his mind. "I remember eating dinner ... And then ... I don't remember the rest. I didn't do anything stupid, did I?"
Stupid is not even close.
Unable to remind him of what he did, I only remain silent, the lingering quietness enough for him to understand.
"Oh God. I'm so sorry. If I did something wrong. You know how --"
"I know. It's okay. People do stupid things when they're drunk."
"People also do stupid things when they're sober," he chuckles.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know," he sighs heavily. "I have no idea what the hell I'm talking about."
Chris turns around to his room, which really isn't even a room. It's a small storage room, just big enough to fit a twin bed and a dresser for his clothes. There are no windows, barely any space for walking. And I've always felt bad for taking his room.
"Wait Chris."
He whips back around as he reaches the door.
"Yeah."
"Please put on a shirt."
He rolls his eyes and laughs, the events from yesterday already erased from both of our minds. There's no reason to remember what happened.
...
India opens the door shortly after I ring the bell. She looks so exhausted but that's probably because she has no makeup on. I always see her at work so it's a bit unusual to see her like this.
"How was she?" I ask.
"Good," she smiles. "She's always well behaved and Rhea loves having her around. The house is much louder which I miss."
Giggles and quick footsteps appear from behind her and we both turn around to see our two girls dressed in pink and yellow tutus and helmets on their heads, running around in the living room. How do they have the energy to run like this so early in the morning?
"Mommy!" Charlotte calls out.
Her smile is wide enough for the world to see as she sees me. She scampers across the room to my arms and I give her a short squeeze as I lift her up onto my hip.
"Why do you have a helmet on?" I chuckle as I pinch her cheek.
"We're playing space ballerinas!" She tells me giddily and my chest lightens like air at seeing her so happy, so carefree.
...
The bus comes in to view and the little girl beside me begins to jump up and down in excitement. She really is her mother's daughter. She always enjoys our bus rides around the city which is good, I guess. It doesn't take much to entertain her.
She usually likes sitting by the window seat, keeping her green eyes peeled on the passing sights and car-filled streets.
But today, she didn't take one peek. Instead, she remains quiet, in deep thought as curiosity churns in her mind.
"What is it, love?" I ask her and she gazes up at me with an examining stare.
"Is daddy coming home for Christmas?"
"Hmm?" I stall for time, reminding myself to breathe. I'm not prepared to tell her that she doesn't have one. I'm not prepared to crush her hopes of having one.
"Rhea's dad is coming home for Christmas," she tells me. "Is my dad coming home too?"
My little girl. I've kept her so hidden and so naive. Should I have told her the truth sooner? That she has no father. That he will never come for us.
"Is that what you want for Christmas?" I force on a hopeful grin. "For daddy to come home?"
She shakes her head subtly and confusion etches in my expression.
"I want daddy to come before Christmas. So he could buy me lots of presents," she adds, her arms open wide to illustrate her imaginary gifts from her imaginary father.
"Don't get ahead of yourself with the presents," I gently rub her cheek with a finger.
"Okay," she smiles and I wrap an arm around her, pulling her closer to me as I lean my chin on her little head. "But I know daddy's coming home."
Lifting my head slowly off of hers, she turns her head towards me once again, the eager light of hope ingrained all over her face.
"How do you know that?"
"I just do," she adds in a whisper.
"You have the answers to everything, don't you?"
"Yep," she nods.
...
Sunday. That time of the week again.
I lay out Charlotte's Sunday dress out on the bed as I always do before proceeding to the kitchen to pour her a bowl of cereal.
Chris is still in bed, as usual. He always sleeps in on the weekends. Since he's self-employed, hours can get long. It wouldn't be unusual for him to come in til five in the mornings.
"Do we have to go to Church today?" She asks me as she sits on the chair at the small dining table.
"Yes, we do," I say sternly. "Now eat your cereal."
She pouts subtly but doesn't say anything to express her opposition. She always enjoys going to Father Kelly's services. He's a very funny guy.
Charlotte sits with a sorrowful expression as she swirls the spoon around still-full bowl.
"You have to eat something, love," I urge her. She nods slowly and lifelessly, only staring at the bowl of now soggy flakes. "Why don't you wanna go?"
Her small fingers free the spoon and she looks at me with that questioning, meddlesome gaze like she did yesterday.
"What if daddy comes home and we're not here?"
A reiterating guilt builds in my chest as I swallow her words. I bite the inside of my bottom lip, fighting with myself whether to tell her the truth or not concerning her dad. I've always told myself that she's too young to understand, but now, I don't think I can stand one more moment of suffering the redundant shame of hiding this information from her.
But how do I even begin to explain who her father is?
"Charlotte, your dad ... He .. he's --"
"I'll be here," a voice emerges from the hallway and when I see that it's only Chris, relief replaces the unease in my stomach.
"You will?" Charlotte beams in excitement.
"Yeah." Chris lets out a hearty breath as he kneels next to Charlotte's chair.
"You won't let him leave."
"I won't."
"You promise?"
"Promise."
"Did you hear that, mommy?" She exclaims, her grin spreading from ear to ear.
"I did," I tell her. "That's very nice of Uncle Chris, so what do you say?"
"Thank you Uncle Chris," she proudly says.
"You're welcome. Now finish your cereal. You know how she doesn't like being late.."
Charlotte's back to her energetic self as she's almost jumping in her seat in complete glee.
Chris rises onto his feet and returns the way he came from.
I feel like I should say something to him. I know he wants the best for Charlotte, and I know he wants me to tell her about her father. I'm glad he's being patient with me and not coercing me to say anything against my will. I'm glad he respects that.
"Chris!"
He turns around at my call.
"Thank you," I mouth, and he nods once accordingly, his lips pressed into an sympathetic grin.
Even though Charlotte's dad will never come back for us, at least she has someone reliable and kind to be her father figure. Never in a million years thought I'd be saying that about Chris.
I guess ... some surprises aren't all bad.
A/n: I know this was a pretty uneventful, short, and choppy chapter. I tried the best I could to emphasis you know "dad" in this chapter. Will he appear in the next chapter, you're wondering?
........yes he will. Any guesses as to how they'll meet again after five and a half years?