I Want A Better Life: Is That So Bad? Part 2
“When I am at my best, I am my father’s daughter” Unknown.
https://readmedium.com/i-want-a-better-life-is-that-so-bad-part-1-6f0d7849c9fe
“I asked her again about my father and she got so angry with me. It seemed as if I had murdered someone. Every time I ask about my father, she makes it appear as if I am asking her about Satan,” Cherry said after breakfast, putting what she used in the dishwasher.
“So, why do you want to know about him now?” Henrietta asked.
“You know your dad, and he is right here with you. I see how he dotes on you. I want my dad. She hates him so much that she decides to keep us apart. A girl has a right to want to know who her dad is. Was I wrong to ask? I have been asking for years and she evades the question,” Cherry complains closing the dishwasher’s door.
What do you want to know?” Henrietta repeats.
“Everything,” Cherry said, washing her hands at the kitchen sink.
“What if he is married and she doesn’t want to cause problems for him?” Henrietta asked, doing the same.
“That’s not my problem,” Cherry snapped, drying her hands with a paper towel nearby. “I need to know who my father is! Earlier this year a letter came to the house addressed to her. It was a postmark from New York City. There was a returning address and name on the envelope.”
“Who was it from?” Henrietta asked.
“She quickly grabbed it, but I had already seen who it was from. I asked who that was, and she brushed it off saying it’s a long-time friend. She was acting strange and secretive. She was lying to me. I waited until she went to work and snooped through her closet. I found a box with lots of letters from the same person. These letters dated back to the year I was born. I read around eight of them and came to the conclusion that man must be my dad,” Cherry explained.
“Damn!” Henrietta said, looking around for her backpack.
Walking towards the table, Cherry took her bag and headed out the back door. Henrietta followed as her mom brought her backpack to her.
Mrs. Thomas hugged both girls and as they walked through the door, she yelled “Have a good day today at schoolgirls. And Cherry, it will work out for the best,” she encouraged.
“Thank you, Mom,” Henrietta said giggling.
Mrs. Thomas smiles, saying, “Bye angels, have a blessed day.”
They both giggled as they walked out. Henriette couldn’t wait to find out more juicy details in her friend’s search.
“So, what was in those letters?” Henrietta asked anxiously as they walked out.
“You are bad, Henri,” Cherry teased.
“Come on, spill it,” Henrietta demands.
“In one of the letters he asked about a child and if the child knew anything about him. When is he going to meet this child?” Tears slid down Cherry’s cheeks as she paused, then wiped them away with the back of her right and went on, “How could she deprive me of my father? Each letter had a check that she never bothered to cash.”
“Did you tell her that?”
“I not only told her, but I also shoved the box where she hid them in her face as she walked in this morning?”
“How did she take it?” asked Henrietta.
“She was mad as hell. Her face got red as blood and her eyes bulged out at me. I thought she would hit me.”
“But she never did, right?”
“She never hit me before, but this morning I would have deserved it if she had. We were both angry. I told her I hated her for lying to me about my father. She says she never lied to me.”
“But she didn’t tell you anything?” Henrietta asked.
No, she just stood there like a deer in shining headlights.”
“Damn!” Henrietta said.
“I demanded to know why she refused to tell me about my father for the millionth time. I wanted to know if he was a thief. Is he in prison? Did he murder someone? Is he a child molester and was afraid for me around him? I asked every question in the book, and she just stood there staring at me,” Cherry recalls.
“What did she say?”
“She never lied to me. Can you believe it? She denied everything.”
“What happened next?”
“I told her that she was the biggest liar I have ever known, and I am ashamed to call her my mother. I called her a lying hypocrite.”
“You called your mom a lying hypocrite?”
“I didn’t mean to. I just lost control. There is a father/daughter dance coming up and I never seemed to be able to attend one. This gets me mad because I know I have a father. Why is she so cruel? I get depressed when Father’ day is near!”
“It was my father who taught me to value myself. he told me that I was uncommonly beautiful and that i was the most precious thing in his life” Dawn French
Thank you for reading my story. Enjoy other writers’ stories below.
https://readmedium.com/february-prompt-is-kindness-enough-93a7bfa80c90
https://katerinaramm.medium.com/dont-forget-to-show-your-love-d67bfd6118ed
https://readmedium.com/the-enduring-and-soothing-sea-29677c777487