Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters except for Fang's family, which you haven't even met yet. So why is it important?
"Valencia, think this through. Think of what this will do to our daughter."
"Don't think for a moment that I'm doing this just for me. This is for our daughter Jeb. This is so she doesn't grow up with a father that's never around. I don't want her ever feeling the way I do."
I watched from the hallway as my parents shouted at one another in their room. Mine was completely empty save for a bed and a dresser that sat empty against the wall. The rest of my toys and clothing were in suitcases by the door. I was only twelve, but everything going on was easy enough to understand.
We were leaving my father.
"Having a father that's never around is better than loosing one you already have." My father, Jeb, shouted at my mother as she stuffed a small suitcase full with her clothes. Her lips were pressed into a thin line and there was a stress line between her eyebrows.
"I don't think you understand Jeb." My mother snapped back, her voice now scarily calm. "It's better she grows up without you. I think it'll be good for both of us."
"I won't loose Maximum. No matter what you think, she is precious to me."
"Maxine is her name, Jeb. By calling her Maximum, you're only proving what I'm saying. You are too indulged in your work. Giving your daughter a 'code name' won't stop her from getting kidnapped or making bad choices because her father wasn't around to tell her otherwise." And with that, she walked out of the room and called my name. I emerged from behind the corner and she grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the door.
She pulled out her phone and began to call a cab. "Max," Jeb crept up to me and knelt down so he was right next to me. He pulled me into a hug and whispered in my ear. "I don't think I'll see you for a while, sweetheart." He cooed and I felt something slip into my pocket. "That's for you, to remember me by. Don't let your mother see it." When he pulled away his eyes were gentle and he was smiling. That was the last I saw of him for five years, but I did look at my gift when my mother couldn't see.
It was a golden locket on a thin chain. A picture of our family was inside, and on the back, engraved in cursive letters was "To my Maximum". I still wear it now everyday. I wonder if he'll notice now that I'm coming back to live with him. Or maybe he'll be too busy adjusting to his new half-daughter.
The airport was incredibly busy for the evening. People were coming and going like nobody's business, and none of them had any trouble with shoving me and my younger sister, Ella, as we stood, half frozen inside the crowd. The whole thing was enough to make me claustrophobic.
"So Max," Ella said quietly as she looked around the mass of bodies. "This is New York?"
"Nope, this is the New York airport." I replied, trying to get my voice over the crowd. My ears had barely popped and I couldn't tell if I was shouting loudly or not. "Here, follow me." I said, grabbing one of her mint colour suitcases while dragging my own black wheelie. Why she had to choose a vintage suitcase set was beyond me. She clutched onto my arm as I led her through to the edge of the crowd and outside of the airport, into the parking lot, brightly lit from the street lights and even more so from the burning ball of energy a few miles away.
"That is New York." Said, pointing to the city that was aglow with multicoloured lights, like spray paint against a dark canvas. I heard Ella take a sharp inhale beside me, her heart racing. It was easy to forget she'd never been here. But New York was where I grew up, and after five years I was finally back for my senior year, all thanks to her.
"You ready?" I asked, my cheeks sore from all the smiling I'd been doing from my excitement. Ella's smile was a little more hesitant but with a firm nod she looked up at me.
"I was born ready." She responded before breaking into a laugh, brushing her dark bangs out of her eyes, coloured lights reflected in her irises. I hailed a cab like a true New Yorker and soon we were off to the big city.
I'd lived in New York since the day I was born with my loving mother and my hard working father. Sure it was busy and crowded, but I could never forget the sheer excitement of everyday, never knowing what to expect. I think that's part of the reason my father could never leave New York, which I guess makes it part of the reason he and my mother were divorced for five years and counting. He'd been too work crazy, and too in love with his job. Never home, never affectionate. In fact, other than bringing home money, I hadn't seen him do something nice for my mother in years. So she packed her things and mine, and we moved to Mesa, Arizona where she got married and I got a younger sister, Ella.
But now I was back, coming to live with him after five years, and bringing along my half-sister. And frankly, I didn't know what to expect.
"135 East 39th Street." The cabbie announced from his seat in the front. I dropped him a twenty before hopping out, unloading Ella and my luggage from the trunk with Ella right beside me. And as the cab drove away we looked up at the large condominium.
"What room does Mr. Batchelder live in?" Ella asked quietly, still looking up at the building.
"#3BC. And you can call him Jeb, Ella. I don't think he'll mind." I chuckled and grabbed my suitcase along with one of hers, heading towards the steps. "Come on, the elevators right inside and I'm freezing."
"This is it?" Ella asked me nervously as we stood outside the door. I nodded stiffly. In truth, I was incredibly nervous to see my father again. I'd been twelve when I left New York, so I still remembered everything that we used to do together, small paranoia's he had and how he would leave a small piece of paper in the bottom of the doorway to see if anyone had come into the apartment. "Are you going to knock?"
"Yes, I'm getting to that." I snapped a little harshly. But I didn't give it anymore thought because my knuckles were already ramming on the door. I did have a key he sent to our house back in Mesa, but I thought I'd let him get used to the idea of two other people living with him one step at a time instead of barging in waving a gun around and threatening his life. Well, Ella being the gun and his life being any privacy that would soon be invaded by me. I told you he was paranoid. It doesn't make sense, since in his job he's the one doing the hunting. I don't blame him for being in love with his job. An F.B.I agents life is his most valuable possession, but I guess that's true for everyone.
I knocked about five times in a span of five minutes before realizing that a small assumption in the back of my head was ringing true – He wasn't home. My mother told him to be there, waiting for us considering Ella hadn't ever been there before, but apparently even that was too much to ask of him. She'd wanted him to pick us up at the airport, but I quickly rejected that idea. I didn't want to get off a long flight just to see him directly after.
"Come on then, we're going in." I declared and pulled out the key from my bag, all while being very aware of the astonished look Ella was giving me.
"Are you insane?" She asked seriously. "We can't just go in!"
"Well we're not going to stand in the hallway all night. Would you rather be an intruder or stalker?" She paused a minute, giving me time to unlock the door.
"A stalker, definitely." She decided, but I had already opened the door and was on my way in. "Max! Don't go in there!" She was whispering like there was some big monster waiting to attack us if we set foot in the room.
I turned back and grabbed her wrist, pulling her into the room. "Ella, this is your house now. I'm pretty sure you're allowed to live in it." I drawled but she was shouting, well more whispering, over me.
"I'll stay in a hotel till he gets back!" Was one of the things she said as she stopped fighting and I could let go of her wrist.
"That could be ages, it's better to just go in now." I pointed out. "Besides, we're already in the middle of the room." Her eyes, upon my saying that, widened as she looked around the rather large apartment. A small "woah" of astonishment escaped her mouth and I guessed it was because of the size, so I put my hands on my hips and sighed, responding with "I know. It's a mess in here."
Half unpacked boxes were sitting all over the room and the couch while small, useless trinkets sat, some wrapped in newspaper, on the counter. I think I remember him saying he was going to move in one of his letters, but I guess he never went through with it. But that was at least a year ago, and this was ridiculous.
"I think we'll share my old bedroom." I stated, not knowing what else to say. "Bu first, allow me to give you a small tour." Ella followed me timidly as I showed her each room.
The kitchen was directly in front of us and was, like any other kitchen. The counters were a grey and white granite and dark mahogany cupboards hung on the walls. Beside it was the washroom and the living room. The dining area was on the right and across from it, my old room. And finally, the furthest room from the door was the master bedroom, along with my father's small study. It was a pretty good catch for an apartment in New York. It had always been my favourite place when I was growing up, especially the time when my father was actually home. But those moments were rare, and now wasn't one of them.
"C'mon, let's go unpack." I said a bit remorsefully as I led Ella back towards my room. The first time Ella is supposed to meet my father whom I desperately want her to like, and he doesn't even show up for introductions.
I opened the wooden door, expecting to see two bed frames with sheets covering the mattresses, but this trip was so far nothing I was expecting. My room was in the same state it was in five years ago, a heavy dresser against one wall, and an old bed frame with a mattress against another. Bare, empty, untouched and very unwelcoming. At that point, the only thing I felt for my father was irritation. Sure, in the best case scenario, one of us would get a bed. But that frame was old and only meant to support a child. There was no way I was letting Ella sleep on that.
"It's..." Ella said, trying to break the silence as we stared at the empty room. I could feel my fists clenching by my sides.
"Don't say nice." I snapped and she quickly shut her mouth. I was starting to see that everything my mother had told me about my father was mostly true.
"Well, I'm tired and I want to sleep." I announced and crossed the room to the bed. "Here Ella, help me get this mattress into the living room." I said and started to lift it out of the frame. Ella, though giving me a strange look, complied and grabbed the other end.
"Why the living room?" She asked as we carried it sideways through the doorway.
"I'll put it next to the couch and we can sleep together." I explained as we leaned it against the couch. We spent the next few minutes clearing the trinkets from the couch and laying the mattress down beside it. After that, I went to an old cupboard in my father's bedroom and found the sheets and blanket where we used to keep them.
We settled in with Ella up on the couch and me down below on the mattress, cuddled up in an extra old comforter. "We'll clean this mess up tomorrow." I muttered as I reached and turned off a lamp beside the couch. Ella moaned in response and soon she was breathing heavily, fast asleep. I quickly followed suite, but all I could think about was how difficult life with my father was actually going to be, and if we even made the right decision to come. But even if it wasn't, it was a little late to change my mind now.
