I do not own the rights to any of the characters. Thank you towards mellifluous cloud for editting.
Fiona traces her
fingers over the strings, smiling softly as the instrument
tried
to sing as it had done in the past. Knowing he hadn't touched it in
months: too afraid to try, but not ready to hide it away from
view. It was a
piece of his past from which he was unready to
move away. She knew as well
as anyone what that was like.
"Here
you go, Cub." She turns toward the swinging kitchen door, where
he
stood with a glass of soda bubbling in his out-stretched arm.
Stepping
forward, she takes it from him.
"Thank you,
Papa Bear." Taking a seat just as he did on the opposite side of
the room, they sit and sip their drinks in silence. Staring at
each other,
waiting for the first move, for someone to ask the
questions. She often
wasn't shy, especially around those that she
had known before her life even
began. Yet starting a conversation
didn't feel right. Fiona watches John
lean forward and place his
now-empty glass on the coffee table next to the
latest edition of
People, not something she'd ever imagine he read.
"There's
something I need to tell you, Fi." He so rarely used her name,
preferring simple heartfelt nicknames that only meant something
to the two
of them.
"I figured. Why else would you
invite me here?" she responds with a giggle
and a sincere
smile. It was a week ago that she had received an email asking
her
to visit from the man who was now staring intently at his hands. This
was also something that never happened before. After some begging
and
convincing that she would be safe and responsible, Aunt
Melinda paid for her
plane ticket for a weekend trip.
"I
am not sure how to word this or even where to start..." His
voice begins
to trail off until it ends with barely a
whisper.
"Well, cliché as it may sound, start with the beginning."
"It's not as simple as that."
"Try?" She watches him questionably as
he stands from his seat and crosses
the room to join her on the
couch.
"It's about your father, Cub." Daddy? If not
opened and anxious to hear what
he had to say before, she was
now.
"What, John?" It felt very odd to call him
that, though it fit the situation
better.
"Your
mother would kill me if she knew I was telling you this. And I think
your father would as well. But you deserve the truth, deserve to
know
everything. Agree?" She nods nervously, heart
thumping.
"What?" she asks again much softer than the first time.
"Your father had an affair once; it
lasted about three months. It nearly
destroyed your parents'
marriage. Somehow they found a way to work
everything through. He
admitted his error even though it broke me. Meanwhile
your mother
realized that he was human and she could not destroy an
undeniable
connection."
Fiona couldn't believe it; rather, she
didn't want to believe it. How could
he do that? How could her
mother never tell her? Then she recalls something
spoken just
moments ago.
"Why did Daddy admitting his mistake break
you? Weren't you happy that he
realized his error?"
"Because
I was the person your father was having an affair with." Fiona's
hands become numb along with every other part of her body. She
drops the
half-drunk glass into her lap, destroying her brand new
pair of jeans.
"I-I... oh wow..." she mutters over
and over, his words still echoing in her
ears. Her father was
gay? He didn't act it. He didn't look it.
"Your father
wasn't homosexual my dear, if anything he was curious for a
period.
He took almost all curiosities to a level of obsession," he told
her
as if reading her mind.
"Um... why you? Of all people, why you?"
"Because my dear, I am gay. And
your father was aware of that. Not many
people know and I'd
rather keep it that way. We all have lives we live in
the dark,
Cub. Don't forget that."
Fiona looks at her lap and the
stain, trying to let everything sink in,
trying not to scream, or
cry, or whatever unknown emotion that was trying to
pushing its
way out. She came here with no idea as to what he wished to talk
about. This certainly wasn't it.
"Thanks for telling
me, and I do mean that. But I am going to go now. I just
need
some time to think. Um, want to get some dinner tomorrow before I go
back to Seattle?" she says while standing, stepping away
from the couch and
moving towards the door.
"That would be wonderful my dear, and you're welcome."