Disclaimer: See Dan Schneider. If he doesn't know, then it's mine bbz.
This is for Alys, happy belated birthday kid. This is for Emily Noel, because things get better. This is for Laura just because (maybe she knows why) and this is for Andy whose relationship with her dad sucks just as much as mine does. For Maddie and Amy and Kyle and Louise and Meghan and everyone else I've managed to come across.
This was inspired by the song Down by Mat Kearney.
(.x.)
Dreams Heavy as Cement
.
Jade, do you remember when your eyes would light up when I came home?
Do you remember that, Jade?
Do you remember me, do you remember your daddy?
Do you remember how much I loved you?
Tell me Jade, do you remember?
Or did you choose to forget?
.
"Please, when has he ever done anything for me?" Jade West snarled at her mother, a rather petite woman with sun-bleached strawberry blonde hair and bright, green eyes. Her mother sighed and pinched her nose. Like Jade, she had full cheeks and pink, rosy lips that were pursed together in a tired smile. Her curls tumbled down her shoulders and Jade eyed her mother disdainfully with her arms crossed.
"He's done a lot more than you'll ever know." Came her mother's weary response. She reached out and put her hands on her daughter's shoulders and gazed into her daughter's glassy, blue eyes. She wondered if Jade could remember a time where she was happy- those days when she was like any other girl with a toothy grin and a messy ponytail. With Barbie birthday cakes and long Sunday walks in the park. She wondered if she just chose to forget or if her daughter genuinely misplaced the very memories she herself held dear.
Jade huffed and flopped down into the loveseat, glaring at the TV her brother had on mute.
"I don't want to spend the weekend with a man who you claim is my father. A man who clearly forgot how to love his only daughter. A man who-"
"That is enough," Jade's mother held her hands up and shot Jade a dark look. There was also another fleeting emotion Jade could never decipher. It always appeared when she spoke ill of her father. Her mother hated it. She didn't know why, though. Her father left her mother. He left- so why did she still care if Jade said a few horrible things about him now and then? It wasn't like he was ever around to hear it. And even if he was, he would be too busy on his cell phone, on an important business call to even register what she was saying.
"Fine, I'll talk to him but you are going next week. He wants to see you." The girl sprung up from the seat and shot her mother a thankful look before side-stepping her little brother who had been watching the entire scenario, his face scrunched in confusion.
When the seventeen year old left the room, Leroy West rounded the corner; his ex-wife, Emily gave him a grim smile. There was an intense silence that ensued, one they often got when they were in each others company. So many unasked questions- and because they were unasked, there were numerous unsolved problems between them. Emily twirled a few loose strands of her hair before tucking it behind her ear. Leroy remembered why he loved that nervous smile.
Emily remembered when Leroy used to smile, and it would reach his eyes.
"Come on Jonah," Emily motioned to the five year old boy who scrambled to get on his feet. His little feet made a pitter-patter sound across the hardwood floor and he leaped into his father's arms. Both parents smiled at the action, and Emily couldn't help but let her gaze linger on Leroy's smile because no matter what seemed to happen, it never crooked far enough to show teeth, it never made the corner of his eyes crinkle and his dimples were never really as pronounced as they were when they were teenagers.
Jade stumbled back into the room, searching for her cell-phone. On seeing her father, she froze and for a second, she wondered if her father had heard her words, but she unfroze a few seconds later, because maybe she wanted him to hear those things.
"Jade," her father said gruffly.
She didn't respond.
"Jade, say hello to your father," her mother ordered.
"Why?" Jade frowned, "So he can just leave and I'll have to say another goodbye again? No thanks."
"Jade," her mother sighed. But she didn't continue. She didn't know what else to do with her daughter on the topic of her father.
"How's Nancy?" Jade growled, a smirk making its way across her face. However, the smile disappeared within seconds when she saw her mother cringe from the corner of her eye.
"I like Nancy," Jonah said form his father's arms.
"Shut up, Jonah." His sister said nastily, and then to her father, she asked, "Are you going to have another daughter to replace me, next?"
Her father didn't respond. Instead he pulled out his phone and said, "I'm sorry, Jade but I've got to take this. It's an important business call. I hope to see you next weekend." With Jonah and Jonah's bags in tow, her father shuffled out of the house and shut the door.
His son looked at him, his mother's green eyes wide with worry and doubt, "I didn't hear your phone ring, daddy," he said.
"I know son, I know." Leroy kissed the boy's sandy blonde hair and spared the door one last glance before he settled his son and slammed his car door shut.
Inside, Jade's shoulders hunched over.
"Jade-"
"Just forget it, mom. He never has time for me anyway."
.
.
.
Jade, do you remember when I was the center of your world?
Tell me Jade, do you remember?
.
When Leroy and Emily West found out they were going to have their first child, they clung to each other for the next 7 months and 8 weeks. Leroy felt his heart speed up and he would brush some of his shaggy brown hair out of his blue eyes. He had felt the baby kick once, Emily had squealed and her hands flew to her stomach while Leroy flew out of his seat, his guitar tumbling to his feet haphazardly. He leaped over it and his breathing grew labored.
"What is it? What happened?" The words flew out of his mouth in a wild string of words, held together by his worry.
"I think it just kicked." Emily said, rubbing her baby bump.
"Really?" Leroy's eyes widened in awe and Emily threw her head back and laughed at his expression. "What does it feel like?"
"How about next time, you carry the baby and you'll see." Emily grinned cheekily and Leroy took the opportunity to steal a kiss.
They hadn't told anyone about the baby, not even their parents. Emily had only just turned eighteen while Leroy was just a mere year older than his girlfriend. Leroy's parents had long left town years ago, never even bothering to check up or even call their only son, while Emily had moved out of her parents' house, because they didn't approve of her relationship with Leroy- and well, she did.
Everybody said they wouldn't last, because apparently the sweet all-American girl only ever falls with the troubled rebel in the movies.
Emily pulled away and waddled around the kitchen where she pulled out a stack of mail. "This came for you today," she said softly and Leroy forced a smile. They knew what they were; bills. Two fresh-faced teenagers now turned adults couldn't afford to maintain his grandparents' house, but somehow they managed to scrape by every month and the bills got paid.
Leroy tried to sell as many of his paintings as he could and he had even tried to sell his guitar once, but Emily forbade it. Leroy swore she loved that thing more than she loved him.
"Don't worry about it," he said and when she left the kitchen, he reached for the stack of letters; his hands shook slightly and his mouth grew drier than the Sahara Desert. Maybe he had swallowed a wad of the desert sand instead of spit, by mistake?
He slowly tore open the envelope and pulled out the page; the bank's blue crest gleamed deviously under the dull, fluorescent overhead lights.
When Emily woke up later that night to an empty bed, she trudged to the kitchen where she found Leroy staring blankly at the wall in front of him. The stack of letters (bills) all remained unopened, except for one. She didn't speak; she didn't think words were what he wanted to hear. Instead, she managed to get her hands on the thin piece of paper that was fluttering on the kitchen tiles. It was a tedious task, and she knew she shouldn't be bending in her current state, but she wasn't one for following rules.
She opened the letter, held her breath and crumpled the thin piece of paper in her hand.
She instantly reached for Leroy who pulled her into a tight embrace, his hand resting gently on her stomach, over the baby.
Emily wondered if the baby, knew now too.
They were going to take the house away.
And her heart sunk to the floor like it was made of lead.
.
Jade, do you remember when we almost lost the house?
Do you remember how mommy's body shook with tears every night?
Was sadness the first emotion you ever felt, Jade?
.
"Emily," Leroy ran inside the house, slamming the door shut. Her parents had eventually caved in and agreed to make a down payment so they could keep the house, guaranteed that Leroy pay them back and got a real job. A man of his word, Leroy had searched bars high and low for those who would let him play for a reasonable sum of money- he couldn't afford to just scrape by anymore, he had a daughter or son. A beautiful baby girl or boy. And when she or he decided they were ready to join him in the real world, he had to be ready. He had to be, he wouldn't settle for anything else.
"Emily, I'm home," Leroy grinned at his clichéd, overused line and rounded into the kitchen (because that was usually where Emily could be found these days). He found her, blonde hair disarrayed and dry tears marring her face. He rushed over to her side and enveloped her into a hug, "Emily, are you okay?"
She sniffled, "I can't get it open…" She spoke into his shirt. It was then Leroy's gaze fell unto the unopened jar of pickles before him on the granite counter.
She had developed an affinity for those things now. Emily's mother once said, "Careful now, you eat too much pickles and your child will be as tart as those pickled cucumbers." Of course she only said that when nobody else was around, because she wasn't supposed to be warming up to becoming a grandmother at such a young age anyway.
"Do you want me to open it for you?"
"It's not about the stupid pickles, Leroy!" She shrieked, pulling away from him, fresh tears spilling over her face. "I don't know if I can do this, I can't even make us breakfast, far less for making a food for a baby or a child for the next few years!"
"Then I'll cook," Leroy spoke in a soothing voice and reached over to run his hands down his girlfriend's arms.
"We can't afford to take of it; we can barely afford this house or food on the table. I don't want to move back in with my parents. I just don't think we can do this. I can't do this- what if I hate it? What if-"
Leroy turned around and left the kitchen.
"Wh-where are you going?" Emily yelled and Leroy took off into a run. If he could just get there fast enough.
Back in the kitchen, Emily was sobbing hysterically and chomping down in a pickle at the same time. He really shouldn't find it funny, but he broke out into a smile anyway. "What are you smiling about?" Emily said, particularly nastily. Leroy opened his mouth to respond, but then Emily saw what was in his hand and shook her head, "Oh no," she said, mouth full of pickles, "you aren't going to-"
But Leroy had already positioned his fingers on the strings and was strumming, cutting his lover off mid-sentence.
"Raindrops keep falling on my head, but that doesn't mean-"
"Leroy, I swear to God, if you don't-"
"…my eyes will soon be turning red. Crying's not for me-"
"…shut the hell up, I will kill y-"
"Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining-"
"You can't expect to sing a song and just make everything better."
"Because I'm free…"
"You are such a dork sometimes-"
"Nothing's worrying me."
"I hope you didn't think that worked." Emily fought to keep the smile off of her face.
"Everything will be fine, Em. Stop worrying. You were born to be a mother."
"But what if I can't-"
"I love you baby, and it's quite alright, I need you baby, to warm a lonely night-"
"Okay, okay. It worked. Are you happy now?" Emily rolled her eyes playfully and at some point, she had stopped trying to fight her smile so she grinned at her boyfriend, half eaten pickle in one hand, her face tear-free.
"No. You need to sing it with me."
"No way, you know I'm a terrible singer."
"Come on, you're not that bad."
"Leroy…"
"You're right, maybe I should be the one to-"
"Oh my gosh!" Emily jumped forward, "Oh my gosh! It kicked again!"
"What?" Leroy covered the distance between them and put his face to Emily's swollen stomach. He had always missed the baby's kicks. "She stopped," he couldn't hide the disappointment from his voice.
"You'll feel it sometime, don't worry." Emily patted his dark head of hair.
"Hey, baby, It's daddy Leroy, tell me when you come outside, will you love me?"
"Oh my gosh, please tell me you're not singing to it."
"Won't you just give daddy a kick, let him know you care-holy shit." Leroy jumped back and toppled over the guitar he had discarded in his mad dash to feel the baby, and fell to a mess unto the floor. "It's a musical baby!" He shouted. "She loves me, did you feel it Emily? Did you feel it?"
Emily threw her head back and laughed, "Yes!" She squealed, "It's kicking all now."
"It must be a girl then; a daddy's girl."
.
Jade, did you know I used to sing you to sleep every night?
After I felt your first kick, I had vowed that I would sing to you after your mommy fell asleep.
I think you were my biggest fan.
You kicked every time.
Did you know that?
.
"Jade, just stay still," Emily grunted as the baby wriggled in her arms. Leroy looked up from the classifieds, one job wasn't enough. He would have to get two. Every time he seemed to buy something in the house, it was gone just as quickly as it had arrived. Leroy didn't mind though, he had Emily and Jade now. He didn't need the material things to keep him happy; not anymore.
"Want me to take her?" he offered, seeing his girlfriend struggle with the little pale girl in her arms.
"I can burp her myself. I'm not a bad mom you know."
Leroy put the papers down on the table, "I never said you were."
"You think it; every day." Jade wailed in her mother's arms and Emily let out a frustrated cry of her own. "Just because she is always quiet when she's with you, just because you know what to do and I don't."
"Emily, I don't know how to do any of those things. It's all second nature to me." Leroy stood up but Emily took a step back.
"Well it's not second nature for me, okay. You work all day and Jade is so difficult, but then you come home and she's quiet and pleasant." She bounced the baby up and down and Leroy watched as Jade's face turned red and prepared himself for the oncoming wail as Jade shut her big blue eyes and shrieked mercilessly. "Here, just take her. You're the one she wants anyway." Emily shoved Jade into Leroy's arms and didn't spare them a second glance as she grabbed her house keys, her bag and then slammed the front door shut. The sound made the tiny girl in his arms jump, and Leroy looked down to find, wide blue eyes peering up at him curiously. Her eyebrows were knitted together and her tiny mouth was slightly open. Jade had tilted her head to the side and her father gave her a chaste kiss on her wisps of hair.
"Mummy will come back soon, Jade." The baby whimpered as he rocked her gently, "Don't you worry, she'll come back soon."
Before Leroy could whisper into the shadows that was their dark house, the baby snapped him from his thoughts.
She burped.
"You're such a gross, baby." Leroy chuckled as his daughter gurgled in response.
.
Jade, do you remember all those nights when mommy and daddy would fight?
We were always fighting from the start, weren't we?
I'm sorry we weren't good enough.
Do you forgive us?
.
Jade was officially one, she was walking and opening all the cupboards that she could, emptying all the containers and pots unto the floor. It both amused and pissed off her parents. Emily was now 19 and Leroy was 20. Sometimes, they would take Jade to the park and she would let go of her mother's hand and run through the fallen leaves, as fast as she could. If she was holding unto her father's hand, she would run and pull him along with her. She was one of those smiling babies, the one on all the commercials and Leroy was a bit relieved that she was nothing like the tart pickles Emily had gotten rid of as soon as Jade was born.
She was a growing baby, who often needed new clothes and toys and food. She needed dolls to play with and clothes that didn't belong to Emily's old neighbor's child. Leroy was determined to give it to her. Even if it meant that he had less for himself, he would never stop giving her everything he could.
They kept a jar of money in the kitchen; right next to the old microwave that he was certain would stop working any day now. After work, he would empty his pockets into that jar. On the front, he had stuck a piece of paper that said, "Jade's College Fund," written in a blue marker.
Emily found a job as a waitress and her parents (mainly her mother) were paying for her to do some courses part time. Even with Leroy singing at the local bar and working at the art store every other day, it wasn't enough for him together with Emily's salary to pay off his family debt and raise a family.
All he wanted to do was play his music for people, he would have given everything he had if someone would just listen to his voice, if someone would listen to his music and smile. If they would try to analyze his paintings and comment on his brush techniques (or lack of it). It was more than a want, it was a need, something he craved with every fiber and being in his very body. Blood, sweat and tears were all thing he would readily give if it meant that he could capture someone's attention for a mere two seconds and somehow manage to take their breath away.
It was a job, his job to play the guitar and sing his deepest emotions in front of a crowd of uncaring strangers when he couldn't even muster the courage to do so in front of those he knew and cared about. His fingers would bleed from playing too much and often, his pride tumbled to the floor as those men nursing their drinks would snicker as he wailed his notes and the women arched an eyebrow if he voice cracked. It didn't matter to him though, because as far as he was concerned, he was living his dream (though not as successfully as he would have originally liked) and he was perfectly content.
Until the baby came.
Back then, he only had to support himself. Emily still lived with her parents and she wasn't pregnant. He had just graduated from school and had moved into the house his grandparents' house. His parents had left only 2 years earlier, leaving him with the keys and thousands of dollars of debt. His job though minimum wage always seemed to be enough for him to pay his monthly quotas.
His parents had laughed; they had howled and clinked their beer bottles together while he went to bed with another empty stomach and dreams as heavy as they seemed unrealistic. They almost wore him down with their weight.
Now, his dreams simply weren't enough.
He couldn't follow his dreams and support his family. He couldn't let Emily skip another meal (even if he had been doing it since Jade was a few weeks old), because they didn't have enough money to feed two adults and a toddler. He couldn't constantly borrow money from Emily's parents to pay for things. He couldn't have Emily's mother sew Jade's clothes from his old, worn, plaid t-shirts. He couldn't afford to just get by on happiness that was immediately associated with following one's dream. He couldn't buy food with hope, could he?
Things just didn't work like that in the real world.
Maybe his parents knew all along his dreams would soon fall from the very stars he had wished upon as a boy and explode in his face. Maybe that was why they were laughing when he was a kid- always laughing like he was just another joke.
So despite Emily's wishes, he sold the guitar he used to play Jade to sleep every night. The one he would gently run his fingers over, each note planned to sooth the restless baby to sleep. Every chord aimed to accelerate the rate at which her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing evened. It was the guitar she would stretch her chubby hand out of the crib to try and mimic her father's actions. It was the guitar he had when Emily first heard him play, the guitar he tripped over numerous times in his fervor to feel Jade kick.
He sold the one constant he had, he sold it along with his electric Gibson Les Paul, the one he had used all his life savings on when he turned seventeen (if you could even call it life savings anymore), the one he couldn't play anymore because Jade was just too young and their neighbors would complain too much. The one he kept in his case and never took out. The one he had promised he would teach Jade how to play when she grew up.
Instead of being that indie artist he wanted to be, instead of singing his soul out with emotion etched within every lyric he sang, he ended up being a bartender at the very bar he used to play at every night, simply because the pay was better. He left his job at the art store; he couldn't get paid in art supplies anymore and worked at the coffee shop every morning after his shift at the bar instead. Managing to clock in an hour or two before his shift, he took advantage of the coffee he had at his disposal.
And the though the loss of a dream was great, his love for his family was greater, so he put on a brave face.
When Jade frowned at night and said, "Guitar, daddy?" He could only sing her a lullaby about broken dreams, praying she would never have to go to sleep hungry. Praying she would always have the new toys; praying she would never have to wear hand-me-downs again; praying she would have everything he could offer, and more.
.
Jade, do you remember the night the guitar disappeared?
Do you remember reaching up and holding my hand?
Do you remember never letting it go as you fell asleep?
Did you feel my tears falling upon your face as you slept?
.
For a while, things seemed to look up for them. Jade's Jar was now filled with green bills rather than silver and copper pennies and Leroy grinned at the thought of making that deposit. He would never let Emily take money from it to buy groceries or a new pair of shoes she wanted- sometimes she didn't seem to understand how much Jade needed this jar. It wasn't just filled with money; it was filled with hope so that she would never have to struggle like he did, like her mother did, just for basic amenities. So she could study hard and never have to depend on anyone or owe them a single cent.
Jade's clothes still had the tags on them and her toys were new. Emily's cheeks finally regained the child-like chubbiness that Leroy loved so much, while Jade's similar cheeks grew rosier with each passing day. Jade's hair shone and glimmered under the sun and grew thicker than Leroy could ever remember it being. He would grin as Emily struggled to keep those luscious curls in place before bed every night.
Though he did not get to see them much during the week, except for the odd hours when Jade was at her grandmother's and Emily was at college herself, it was an unspoken rule that the weekends were reserved for Jade.
They would go for long walks, and he would put her on his shoulders. When they stopped in front of the park musicians she would bounce and tap a light rhythm on her father's thick head of hair. She would giggle when the cotton candy man would give her free bags of the sugary substance every Sunday because her eyes were, "the colour of the Caribbean sky and reminded me of home," the man would say. Jade didn't mind getting her fingers sticky and Leroy didn't mind when he would have to spend a few extra minutes that night, de-tangling his hair with Emily, trying to rid it of cotton candy.
Soon, Jade forgot about the guitar that made her kick and the paintings that used to adorn every wall in the house. She forgot about her father admiring her crayon drawings proudly on his bedroom wall, while Emily frowned deeply behind him, arms crossed and temper flaring because she would have to scrub it off later. She forgot that her daddy used to sing, because he was never home anymore singing her to sleep- and she didn't like it when her mommy sang anyway.
She forgot a lot of things, but she never forgot to love her daddy.
So now, everything was fine and dandy.
Until Leroy came home to a ransacked house and a missing Jade Jar in the kitchen next to the old microwave they never replaced.
They never seemed to recover from that missing jar.
It was almost like everything that held them together, everything that made their lives stable, everything they had worked for, everything they had sacrificed- it was all gone.
Stolen.
[They stole Emily's smiles too]
.
Jade, did you know I used to eat six meals a week, because I didn't want to spend too much money on myself?
I didn't care if I died or how much I suffered, you deserved more than I could give.
I'm sorry if it wasn't enough at times.
I'm sorry if it was too much.
.
When Jade was seven, her mommy held her hand very tightly one morning when she woke up. Her daddy had long woken up from his 2 hour nap and was already at work. Her mommy smoothed Jade's hair and an estranged sob escaped her throat before she composed herself and forced a smile.
"Mommy's taking you on a trip, Jade. Would you like that?" Her mommy asked, her green-green eyes glimmering with tears.
Jade nodded her head furiously causing her long curls to cascade over her shoulders, as they whipped her face. She was excited- the only places she had ever been to were her grandparents' house, the park and the coffee shop where her dad worked.
"That's good," Her mother kissed her forehead and reached for bags the seven year old hadn't realized were there. They were beaten, and worn and even had a few mismatched patches on them. Her mother grimaced at the sight and reached for her hand once more.
"Is daddy coming too, mommy?" Jade squeaked as her mother's grip tightened on her hand and she tried to pull away. Mommy often lost her temper, and Jade had seen enough fights between mommy and daddy to know that when mommy squeezed her hand, it meant that daddy wouldn't be smiling as much as he usually did.
A car horn sounded in front of their house, before Jade heard her grandfather's booming voice and her grandmother magically appeared, ushering her away from her mother.
"Grandma, when is daddy coming?" She asked.
"Daddy isn't coming sweetheart. Daddy isn't here," she said, her eyes shooting her a pitying look that confused her seven year old mind.
"But I want, daddy." Jade wriggled out of her grandmother's grip and stomped her foot. "No, I want daddy! Where is daddy?" Her eyes filled with tears as nobody answered. Her grandfather scratched his bald head and avoided her gaze while her mother looked at her through narrowed eyes. The little girl wailed and struggled as her grandfather picked her up and carried her out to the car.
"She never loved me as much as she loves her father," She heard her mother say.
"He never loved you like he loves her," came her grandmother's reply.
.
Jade, do you remember the day mommy took you away?
She took you away from me.
Do you remember screaming out for me as the car drove away?
Do you remember at all, Jade?
.
Every Saturday morning was the same for Emily, now. Jade would wake up earlier than usual, get dressed on her own and would wait in her grandparent's kitchen table, sitting patiently, swinging her feet to and fro. She would hum to herself and though it annoyed Emily at times, Jade never stopped. She never stopped singing or drawing. And when they had first moved in with her parents, Jade could only be subdued by her grandmother teaching her how to play the piano.
It was only then her tears stopped and her wails seized. It was only then she would stop asking for her father to read her a story before bed. It was only then she would say things like, "Mommy, why don't you make blueberry pancakes anymore? Daddy loved those very much," or, "Mommy, do you think daddy is thinking about me right now?" Even if Leroy wasn't with the girl, she was always thinking about him. Always singing about raindrops falling on her head, always drawing pictures where mommy was inside the house while she and daddy planted sunflowers together in the small backyard of their old house.
She would ask her grandmother, "Do you think daddy will like to this piece better than the last one, grandma?" To which her only grandmother would nod her head and pat her head fondly, a faraway look in her eyes.
Every Saturday Jade West would wait three hours every morning for her father arrival, as bright and as early as he could, because all he wanted to do was take care of his daughter now. He always came bearing gifts and Jade's bright blue eyes would light up for a second- maybe two, but she would discard them uncaringly and leap into her father's arms, squealing loudly as she did so.
While Leroy hated to admit it, Emily taking Jade away had done him good, he was more motivated than he ever was before to open that college fund for her in the bank, to buy her new toys and clothes. To take her to a fancy restaurant once every few weeks and to even take her to the cinema. He covered shifts and barely had time for sleep anymore. And during that single year, he had followed Emily's lead and had taken a course or two. There was no room for failure- he couldn't afford to fail. He didn't have money to re-write any exams. He didn't want to waste it- he wanted to build an empire for his only child. And one day, he would. His efforts and consistent, frugal working habits did not go unnoticed by his bosses and soon the old man who owned the bar asked him if he would be interested in proper training to run the bar himself.
Things were finally looking up for him and Jade. Even if these breakthroughs meant that his relationship with Emily weathered and eroded with each passing week with her terse greetings and bitter smiles, he didn't mind so as long as Jade had what she needed. Once he had enough money, he was going to get her back and get her away from Emily.
He had to.
It was the image of his daughter that drove him to achieve the things he did. Her smile and the way she would giggle when he lifted her up in the air and spun her around. The way those blue eyes of hers shone under the glaring sun, licking her ice-cream cone as it dripped down her elbows, chocolate marring her cheeks. The tired sigh she would make in his arms as she fell asleep on their walk home and the way her curls would blow in the wind.
She was her father's daughter- that much he knew.
.
Jade, do you know I never stopped thinking about you?
Do you know you were the only reason why I didn't give up?
Do you know you're the only reason why I never turned out like my parents?
Do you know how thankful I am for that?
.
On Wednesday nights, the house was primarily occupied with females because that was when Emily's father left for poker night. He would come home around ten o' clock, and head straight to bed. There, Emily, her mother and her daughter would have the house to themselves. They would sit around the kitchen table, the wooden legs as stubby as Jade's grandmother's. Jade would empty her pack of crayons unto the table and draw endless pictures upon the old pages her grandmother had saved for her.
She would draw of guitars and cribs and a man with his mouth open, musical notes falling out of them. His eyes would be royal blue and his hair would fall in odd sorts about him in a dark brown. He would be smiling and often, either in his hand or perhaps next to him would be a crudely shaped guitar, like those she had often seen in her colouring books.
Her mother and her grandmother would be talking next to her, sipping on tea- for her mother hated coffee.
"I hate it," her mother would murmur, "sometimes I think I hate him so much." Was always how she would start the conversation, followed by, "But I love him so much."
Her grandmother would eye Jade wearily as she could try her best to colour within the boundaries of the lines she had set for herself.
"He was never there, he was always working, always too busy." Her mother would continue.
Her grandmother would stay silent and then say, "He was doing it for you, he was doing it all for you honey. You and Jade. Leroy is a noble man, a hardworking man who did everything he could for his family."
"Except love; when did he ever tell me he loved me?"
At this point, Jade would be colouring in his royal, blue eyes. Sometimes, she pressed so hard that the crayon would snap in two and together, she and her mother would stare haplessly for a few tender moments because neither knew how to fix their broken things.
"He was never here for me or for Jade. I'm better off without him."
Jade's grandmother would hum in agreement and snap- Jade would break another crayon.
"Sometimes I wish I had never met him, maybe things would have been better that way."
Her grandmother said nothing.
Snap, and another crayon was broken in two.
.
Jade, do you remember when I would frame all of your pictures?
Did you think I would forget about them?
I never did.
Sometimes, I pull them out of that old case, and I open the aged paper.
Do you remember the man with the bejeweled eyes and the guitar?
He has never forgotten about you.
.
One day, when Jade was walking home from school, she went the long route- the one her mother forbade her from ever visiting and her feet worked their way around garbage bins, fancy shoes her mother would admire in magazines and briefcases she wished her daddy would carry around. They did this until she found herself in a place she had only been once or twice. The glass windows allowed her to get a clear view of who was inside, and the sign that read, "come in, we're open" seemed more inviting than it ever did before. She did what she was told, and pushed (not pulled) the door open and stumbled inside.
The cold air raised the pores on her arms and she trembled for a mere second until she saw him. Her father was behind the counter, pulling out bills that he gave the customer, along with her receipt. Jade quickly crept to the side of the coffee shop, the little nook where she knew her father would not be able to see her.
Above her head, was his picture, with a sign saying "Employee of the year", not month but year. Her father was smiling the smile he gave her mother when she opened the door every Saturday morning- the one that didn't reach his eyes. She had never seen it much herself, but her mother was always complaining about it.
The smell seemed familiar to her, one she would faintly remember smelling when her father would give her a tight hug.
Coffee beans, she decided, were her new favourite scent. Fresh or stale, she loved it, just like she loved the noise the cappuccino machine made before it spluttered out the hot liquid. She loved the scent of freshly baked muffins that wafted around her, clinging unto her clothes and she loved the little packets of sugar that she found on her table. She sneaked one into her pocket, just to remember this moment by.
She smiled proudly as her father would shout orders and watched as he cracked jokes with his fellow workers and customers. She stayed that way until her watch beeped five o' clock.
When her father slipped into the kitchen, she sauntered out of the coffee shop and ran all the way home.
Her mother grabbed her by the arm and yelled at her before enveloping her in a tight hug.
"Sorry I'm late mom, I joined the drama club today. Meetings are every Tuesday, after school." She said, "is that okay?"
Lie number one.
"Oh it's okay sweetie, I was just so worried about you." Her mother crooned into her hair and she felt a twinge of guilt, because good daughters don't lie- her mother had told her that countless times but the guilt dissipated when Jade smelled her mother's perfume, wishing it was the aroma of fresh coffee beans that she was smelling instead.
"I'm sorry mom," she said, "I'm very, very sorry."
Because in fact, she was.
.
Jade, do you remember the first day you snuck into the coffee shop?
Do you think I didn't notice you?
Do you know I followed you home?
Do you know that was the second time you made daddy cry?
.
At some point, Jade had actually joined the drama club because her mother had started to ask a lot of questions- like when she was going to be in the school play. The previous lies she told in order to find an excuse to see her father could no longer be used seeing as they were now all living and operating in one house. There were secret smiles and loving gestures that Jade had never really seen between her parents before, ones she had often observed between other parents while she waited for her grandmother to pick her up from school.
By now, her father had complete ownership of the bar he worked at and had enough money to renovate it. He also bought the coffee shop and opened many other branches around the town. Her parents weren't the only ones changing, she was changing too. She found that she now had to share her father's two free days on the weekend with her mother. She was no longer her father's number one because her mother had finally mustered up the courage and managed to stomach her pride long enough to confess why she had left.
Jade didn't know why she was even bothering to explain her actions, because her mother had always told her that her father had already left her ten years prior.
Drama club wasn't so bad, anyway. She made more friends and had even invited them over to her house and as it had recently been upgraded and they had installed a new pool outback, her house soon became the new hangout and practice place.
One of the older kids had pulled Jade aside and said, "I think you should try out for the lead," one day after practice.
"But I only do music," she said slowly.
"I think you can do more than just music, Jade." The girl had said, before re-adjusting her skirt and fluffing her hair.
Jade took her advice, and rushed home a month later, a wide smile on her face. "Dad, mom," she called out, "Guess what?"
She bounced up and down and her mother rushed down the stairs a flurry of cashmere business suits and blonde curls. "What is it? Are you okay? Did something happen?" Her mother let her green eyes travel around the girl's face and body, making sure she was in one piece.
"Yes, something happened! I got the lead in the new play the school is having. I'm going to play Alice in Alice in Wonderland!" She squealed and her mother reached forward and wrapped her arms around the tiny girl's middle and spin her around the room.
"Oh, I have been waiting for this day!" Her mother finally put her daughter back on the ground, who instantly began looking around the house. "Your father's at work." Her mother supplied, "he'll be home soon." She spoke hurriedly on seeing the disappointment illuminating her daughter's face. "Come on, let's get some ice-cream to celebrate."
Emily and Jade practiced her lines for an hour every day and Emily had even volunteered to help make costumes on the weekend. She was in charge of making the pastel blue and white puffy dress Jade had to wear for the big show.
"Dad, don't forget the opening night is on the ninth okay? I reserved a seat for you and mom." Jade said at the dinner table, between mouthfuls of mashed potatoes. Her mother had finally gotten better at cooking and when she didn't forget that there was something in the oven or on the stove and burn dinner, they usually came out very tasty.
Her father laughed, "I won't Jade, you only remind me every night. I'm sure you'll be the star of the show."
"That's because I am the star of the show," she said proudly.
A month later, a mere week before opening night, her father frowned grimly before placing her report card on the table. "This drama club is getting in the way of your school work. If you don't bring these grades up, this play will be the first and last play you will ever participate in."
Leroy's chest tightened as Jade's eyes welled with tears before she stomped up to her bedroom.
"Don't you think you're being too hard on her, Roy?" Emily asked, patting his hand with a slight frown, "she really loves this. She got that from you." Emily shot him a pointed look.
He didn't reply and winced as Emily's chair made a scraping noise against the oak flooring he just had installed. He sat alone on the table, food cold and mouth dry. His head was pounding and his vision blurred on occasion but he didn't move. His mind buzzed and the air around him seemed to cackle.
It's for the best, he repeated over and over again.
He was only looking out for her- it was his job as her father.
He didn't want his daughter to have to experience what he did; he didn't want to force her to choose between her family and her dream. He didn't want to devote her attention solely on the arts while her grades dipped below a level where she could no longer retrieve them and direct them back to the straight-A profiles she used to bring home. He didn't want her to go to sleep on a stomach full of hope and dreams. He didn't want her to live each day with only five dollars in her pocket and talent to her name.
It didn't guarantee money, it didn't guarantee food, clothes, shelter or anything she would need to survive. It guaranteed sleepless nights, a constant dull ache in her stomach due to days without food, it guaranteed her as a lost, wandering soul- desperate for anything to get her through. It would expose her to drugs, alcohol and the very people he had tried his best to protect her from.
To preserve her wide smiles and innocent laugh, to preserve her wide eyes and good-hearted nature.
He wouldn't let the world hurt her like it had hurt him.
Even if it meant that their relationship would never be as it was, he would make sure she would never have to go through what he did.
And with that resolution, he forced himself to stomach the cold plate of food and pretend he didn't hear his only child sobbing in her bedroom upstairs while her mother whispered words of comfort.
He was only looking out for her, he repeated, she would thank him later.
"I was only looking out for her," he voiced into the large, empty room, "she'll thank me later." His words reverberated around the room and bounced off the walls, echoing inside his head.
.
Jade, do you remember the first day you took step away from me?
Do you know I regret that day?
Do you know that I was only trying to do the best for you?
Do you know that, Jade?
.
December of that year brought the West family many things. It brought her parents' marriage and then it brought Jade a little baby brother with his mother's blonde hair and green eyes and her father's tanned skin. It brought Jade immense jealousy and it brought Emily an opportunity to right every wrong she had made with her first born.
It meant that her parents were too busy ohh-ing and ahh-ing over the new addition to the family to even so much as remember to make her breakfast in the morning. Still, Jade looked forward to spending the weekend with her father- aside from his strict warning about her grades nothing about him had really changed.
Okay, that was an understatement.
Her father wore suits now, and had invested in a cell phone that was always ringing at odd hours of the day. His hair grew a bit thinner and Jade saw the formation of a wrinkle or two on his face. He carried briefcases and spoke with a firm tone. Still, every Saturday without fail he would drive them to the park where they would get ice-cream.
She never held his hand anymore, because she was eleven now after all, and she would listen with a small crook of a smile, as her father would tell her stories about the cotton candy man that used to give her free bags when she was a child. The walks were shorter and she could no longer run around as she freely did because she was forced to wear a dress and dresses fluttered and got in her way so much that she preferred not to run at all.
Conversations and stories were often kept at bay, because her father always bought his cellphone and it was guaranteed to ring until he would sit on a nearby bench, a tight frown on his face, eyes narrowed in concentration and wave at her to go play because "Daddy has a business call to make sweetie, and it's a very important one."
Then the walks grew less frequent and when they did occur, neither Jade nor her father could muster any words to speak.
.
Jade, do remember those walks in the park?
Do you know how much time we would spend together?
Do you know think we would be a happy family if we were still poor, Jade?
Do you?
.
Her mother was always busy with her brother, always making sure he was well fed or burped before bed. She coddled him around and read him stories. She brushed his hair and smiled when he gurgled. She would call her grandmother and gush about what her brother had or hadn't done that day and spend hours planning out the rest of the week with her precious little Jonah.
Jade never remembered her mother doing that for her when she was a baby.
"You were always a daddy's girl," her mother would say, with a cheery laugh and Jade would stiffen, because she could barely even remember her father anymore either. His long hours had turned into long business trips, and her mother was too occupied with baby Jonah to even care that her husband was missing for such large quantities.
Daddy's little girl noticed though- how could she not? She went from being his number one, to falling to the bottom of his list.
And the worst part was that nobody seemed to notice- not even daddy himself.
For that very reason, she did everything she could to capture his attention. She wore dark colours and drew on her skin with a black marker. He would frown and make a disdainful face, but he would never comment. His nose would wrinkle in disgust every time she spat out her bitter words and her mother would eye her worriedly, but they would never speak up.
Her mother would pretend everything was fine and dandy because according to Jade, she had finally gotten the child she always craved and really didn't need her other anymore, did she? And as for her father, well she doubted he had even wanted kids in the first place, except for maybe Jonah. Everybody wanted Jonah.
"Jade, how about we got for that walk?" He would say and she would always go, holding unto whatever fragile relationship that had.
"No, I don't want to go on a walk with you." She spat out severely one day, and her father paused. Emily looked up from the baby in her arms and Jade crossed her arms, "I don't want to do anything with you anymore. It's like I don't even exist." She stomped out of the room while her father collapsed into the leather loveseat. He brought a hand to cover his weary face and sighed deeply, almost as if he could breathe out all those voices that egged him on.
You may have worked so hard to be nothing like your parents, but in the end, you turned out exactly like your absentee mother and father, they heckled and Leroy closed his eyes and tried to do the same with his mind.
He stayed that way until his phone rang for the ninth time consecutively after Jade's outburst and Emily said, "She didn't mean it."
"Yes," Leroy said, "yes she did. Jade never says anything she doesn't mean."
.
Jade, do you remember the cotton candy man?
Do you know he told me I was the best father he knew?
Do you know I still go there sometimes?
Do you know I still buy his cotton candy?
Do you know he asks for you?
.
In the fall of Jade's thirteenth birthday, her parents got a divorce. Jonah was only two- the length of time her parents managed to last together as a married couple. Jade wondered if Jonah was their last attempt at love. She felt bad for him, her little brother, because he would never grow up with two loving parents, but then again, she didn't either. Her face would harden when she saw the way her mother fussed over her brother, he didn't need anybody's sympathy. He had all he would ever need.
Her father never made it to a single one of her performances but he was always willing to pick Jonah up and drop him off at daycare or their grandmother's house. Her mother never moved out, and her father bought a condo in the city, forty-five minutes away.
Probably because he wanted to get as far away from her as he could, Jade huffed to herself in her bedroom later that night. She didn't know why she was crying- her father had barely even been around and when he was, he was always with Jonah. So really, Jade, why are you crying over someone who forgot you exist, she used to ask herself every night after her mother went to sleep. She wondered if Jonah could hear her crying, she wondered if he ever knew what sadness even felt like.
A part of her was relieved that he was gone, relieved that she wouldn't have to see him scowling down at her black clothes and sharpie tattoos anymore but there was another part, one that she had tried to ignore on numerous occasions that still vied for his arms to envelope her in a tight embrace, one that longed for the days when his laughter filled the room, as she told him about one her upcoming plays. A voice that would crave his approval and the smile he would give her- the one where his eyes would crinkle and his gums would show.
She hadn't seen that smile in such a long time that she wondered if it had even existed in the first place.
Jade overheard her parents arguing one day, they were whispering furiously in the kitchen, and when they saw her round the corner, they stopped and forced smiles. Her mother shook her head and Jade took that as her cue to leave the kitchen, making sure both her parents could see her rolling her eyes.
She held her breath as she hid behind the wall, chest hammering in her heart.
"That isn't fair," her mother was saying, "you can't fight for custody of one child."
Jonah.
They were fighting over Jonah, weren't they?
And that was really all Jade needed to hear before she scrambled up to her bedroom as quietly as she could. She flipped off her lights and hid under her covers, hot tears rolling down those chubby cheeks of hers. She gasped when a smaller hand grabbed hers, and she blinked furiously when Jonah's green eyes peered up at her in the dark. She pulled him into a hug and sang him a shaky lullaby, hoping he would fall asleep already.
As much as she hated him for taking away her parents, she loved him even more for always knowing what she needed, when nobody, including herself could.
In the wake of their divorce, Jade's mother was the one who catered to her every whim, because her father was much too busy to call her on the weekends. He was too busy to attend parent-teacher meetings and as far as she knew, he despised that she was still a part of the drama club. It made her work harder than she ever had to prove that it was something she wanted to do for the rest of her life- something she was good at. Something that she felt was embedded in her very soul. It coursed through her veins and worked its way through her heart, filling it with more determination she ever thought capable. She wanted to live her dream of becoming a famous actress and singer, but she knew that more than anything, she wanted to prove her father wrong.
She wanted to be there when she was on stage, accepting her award and he was in the crowd (because she'd make sure to score him front row tickets so she could get a good view of his face) and he would hang his head in defeat or maybe he would stalk out of his seat and leave the room, or maybe he wouldn't even show up. The award itself would be meaningless if only she could see his face as she glared down proudly at him.
Her mom, now a single mother, had to get another job to be able to pay her lawyer who was helping her through the divorce process. For this reason, Jonah was often left in her arms. The boy who had everything she didn't, the boy who her parents clearly preferred over their misfit of a daughter, would grip her hand tightly and say things like, "I love you Jade," with a light stutter that he got when he was particularly excited.
It was the first time she had ever remembered anyone telling her that they loved her.
Funny, because she had overheard her mother telling Jonah that every night as she tucked him into bed down the hall.
.
Jade, do you know your mother wouldn't let me get custody of you?
Do you know that it was you all along?
Do you remember that night?
If you had only gotten there a moment earlier, you would've known then-
That we weren't fighting over Jonah, we were fighting over you.
.
When Jade was fourteen, she brought Beck Oliver home. A skinny little boy whose hair was too long and whose arms were too skinny. His olive skin glistened as her mother smiled adoringly, while her father scowled darkly. Jade fought the smile that danced across her face when she caught his eye. What she didn't fight was the blush that flushed her cheeks red. Her father never stopped glaring at Beck, who avoided his gaze and focused on rolling his peas around his plate. Emily had coaxed Leroy into taking the Friday off to meet "that boy Jade is always talking about." He had cancelled all his meetings and turned off his cellphone. His eyes darkened as he saw Jade's hand reach under the table and seek out Beck's.
"This was some amazing, steak." Beck smiled nervously at Emily who grinned proudly.
"I think that's the first time anyone ever told me that." Jade rolled her eyes at her mother's cheery response. From the corner of her eye, she kept her eyes trained on her father.
"Beck and I are thinking about applying to Hollywood Arts in the fall," she spoke up suddenly, amidst Jonah's incessant mindless chattering.
"What makes you think you have permission to attend that school?" Came her father's immediate, rough response and Jade smirked cruelly at her father.
"I don't know, maybe you should ask mom." Her mother winced as her father slammed down his eating utensils.
"What is she talking about, Emily?" Her mother cleared her throat and Jonah clapped his hands giddily next to his big sister who gave him a quick pat on the head.
"I don't know why you're so against this," Emily started, also gently putting down her fork, "When you were her age-"
"It doesn't matter what you think, I pay the bills so I should be the one making the decisions around here." Beck Oliver's arched eyebrow did not go unnoticed by the older man, but Leroy was too enthralled by Emily's amused expression to give the young boy a second glance.
"Oh really?"
"Yes really."
"It isn't fair that you were able to-"
"And look how far that got us, Emily." That shut up his ex-wife up almost immediately and she licked her lips knowing full well that her ex-husband had a valid point. Following his dreams and his heart had gotten Leroy nowhere except further in debt.
"And that, Beck, is my family. Loving aren't we?" Jade said once silence ensued and Beck squeezed her hand reassuringly.
.
Jade, do you remember the day you brought home your first boyfriend?
Do you remember the way you held his hand?
Do you remember, Jade?
Do you remember when my hand was the one you sought out?
.
When Leroy started dating his secretary, Nancy, Jade (now sixteen) had already snuck out twice and had gotten two piercings and a tattoo. To say he was mad had been an understatement. He had grounded her for three months, one for every piercing and tattoo she had gotten without his permission. For once, Emily had sided with him on it. Those three months she had to spend isolated inside her bedroom, made her resent the man she called her father more than she thought possible. Every night she spent cooped up inside her room with nothing but her cell phone to keep her company on the weekends, made her anger aggregate until she felt like a walking time-bomb.
She was simply waiting for the right moment to blow up at her father.
Leroy would call Emily every Friday night at 7pm to inquire about Jade. He had been doing it since the day he came home to an empty house those many years ago and he would never stop. Jade was his daughter and she was his responsibility. But she wasn't the only one, he had Jonah now.
Leroy figured that if he spent more time with Jonah, if he held unto Jonah just a little more tightly, Jonah wouldn't run away from him like Jade did. He wouldn't slowly start to resent him or question the love a father had for his child. In his mind, spending more time with Jonah should be equivalent to spending time with Jade, but it wasn't. It didn't encourage Jade to want to spend more time with him either, but rather increased the distance between their two rafts, sending them both in different directions. No matter how hard he tried to change the course of his raft, it did nothing to stop Jade's figure from retreating into the distance, and soon enough she would disappear over the horizon.
Leroy would unbutton his suit jacket and sit on one of his kitchen stools, a glass of scotch on the rocks in one hand and his other cradling his chin as he swirled the glass with the caramel liquid in it.
There was a gap that he seemed to be missing; it was what caused the initial distance between the father-daughter duo. He didn't know when it happened, and with each glass of scotch, he would try and fail to remember exactly when these changes took place. When did Jade start dyeing her hair? When did she start carrying around a pair of scissors like it had become high fashion? When did she start wearing boots with spikes? Did she use those same spikes to stuck them into her heart? Was that why it hurt to try and talk to her these days? Was that why it hurt to even look at her?
Was it because she had slowly turned into him, despite his best actions to try to divert her path so that maybe she could turn out like her mother- minus the pregnant at eighteen part because he was still only 35 and sure as hell wasn't too old to beat that skinny armed, Beck Oliver into a senseless pulp.
She never so much as gave him the time of day, except when sneering insults at Nancy or informing him that she would not be spending the weekend with him because she "had plans". Plans with Beck Oliver, he was sure.
Who was he to force her to spend time with him when he couldn't even look her in the eye anymore? When he couldn't go longer than a few minutes around her, because it was a painful reminder of just how much he had lost? Just how much she had changed and just how much he no longer knew about her.
Did she still sprinkle salt on her oranges? Did she still love The Sound of Music? Did she still write in the diary he bought that he when she turned eight? Did she still prefer seedless grapes as opposed to any other kind? Did she still grin wickedly when biting into strawberries? Did she still love to draw and paint? Did she sing her little brother to sleep when he asked her to? Was she still a part of the drama club? Did she still love the smell of freshly roasted coffee beans and blueberry muffins? Did she still prefer chicken burritos over beef? Did she still love butterflies? Did she still have that mole under her right eye? Did she still play the piano? Was her best friend still Cat Valentine? Was she still disgusted by shrimp tails in her pasta? Did she still consider herself his little girl?
He wondered if Emily could answer any of these questions herself.
"Emily, do you think she remembers?" He asked his ex-wife after Jade had stomped out of the room and slammed her bedroom door shut when she saw him.
"I honestly don't know." Emily would murmur, Jonah in her arms. "I'm sorry, Leroy."
"Why are you apologizing?" His eyes would soften as they fell over Jonah- the last chance he had of proving he wasn't such a horrible father. The only proof Emily had that she could learn from her mistakes.
"When she was younger, she used to hear everything."
Silence.
"I did everything I could to make her hate you as much as I did then." Emily place Jonah on the ground, whose little feet ran upstairs where he knocked in his sister's door. "I know I shouldn't have done it, but I just wanted her to see that you weren't as good a father as she thought you to be." Emily broke into an outlandish sob and brought a pale hand to her mouth where she took a few moments to compose herself. "I'm sorry, I'm so very sorry." She repeated and Leroy rubbed her back soothingly.
"It's fine, Emily."
"No, it's not."
"It is. I'm the one who chased her away. Not you. It was all me."
.
Jade, do you remember those things mommy used to say about me?
They weren't true. She was the one who left us- me.
Jade, do you remember when I never left your side?
That was an unspoken promise.
Do you remember, Jade?
.
Jade was seventeen today, Leroy hadn't forgotten. He had prolonged the call instead, choosing to bury himself with work. He ordered the most expensive bouquet of followers he could find and had to delivered to her house. He ordered the most exquisite strawberry cake Nancy could find- fresh sliced fruit garnishing the top of the cake. He even bought her a car with a big, red ribbon on the hood but he still hadn't called.
He left his office around eight that night and after shoveling down his Chinese takeout, he planted himself on his loveseat, eying the phone Nancy had placed next to him with a knowing gaze shining through her brown doe eyes, before she went to bed.
11:59
He finally decided to call.
"This is Jade, I hate voice-mails, just so you know. Beep."
"Hello Jade, this is your father," he paused, "I know you received my gifts and I'm sorry I wasn't able to celebrate your birthday with you this year. Something came up," he lied, "and I just couldn't afford to-"
Jade West deleted the message before she could hear what other pitiful excuses her father could mutter into her ear.
She was walking down her street, her long fingers buried within the deep pockets of her long, black coat. Her breath danced in front of her, before it disappeared into the cold night. She was seventeen today. Seventeen and her father hadn't even bothered to visit her, to hand her those stupid gifts in person or to call her during the day like a normal father would. She didn't know why she was expecting anything other than the familiar taste of disappointment.
Usually Beck would accompany her on these late night walks, but they weren't together anymore, were they? She scowled at the thought and tilted her head back to gaze up at the moon that shone down, illuminating her path.
She had given the gang her cake, without so much as tasting the icing and when she got home, she threw the flowers away before her mother would notice them. They left a sweet smell of summer in her room that annoyed her so much she left her bedroom window open as she jumped out and scaled down the wall, bursting into a run as soon as her feet touched the ground.
She kicked the glass bottle in front of her as hard as she could. Her foot throbbed after, but she didn't mind. The resounding crash it made calmed her down, the splinters glistened and grinned deviously at her.
An empty bottle for an equally empty soul.
Drops of water soon joined the broken glass that littered the floor. It was raining.
She looked up to the sky.
No, it wasn't.
Those were her own tears.
.
Jade, do you remember when you turned seventeen and I didn't call?
I was afraid that I would ruin your day.
I was afraid that I would call and you would hang up on me.
I was afraid that with each passing year, you'd realize how less you need me in your life.
Do you remember that day, Jade?
.
.
.
His son looked at him, his mother's green eyes wide with worry and doubt, "I didn't hear your phone ring, daddy," he said.
"I know son, I know." Leroy kissed the boy's sandy blonde hair and spared the door one last glance before he settled his son and slammed his car door shut.
Inside, Jade's shoulders hunched over.
"Jade-"
"Just forget it, mom. He never has time for me anyway."
"You can't continue to feel this way about your father." Emily said, after Leroy had driven out of the driveway her Jonah in tow. Jade sat on her bed, cross-legged, phone in hand. Her mother, losing her temper, had snatched the phone away. Jade had opened her mouth to protest, but when she saw her mother's green eyes narrowed into slits and the way her stance had changed, she changed her mind. "Why can't you just try to get along with him?"
"We're polar opposites." Jade shrugged uncaringly. "Can I get my phone now?"
Under her mother's glare, Jade shut her mouth and turned her head. "That's a poor excuse, seeing as your best friends are Cat Valentine and Tori Vega."
"Tori Vega is most definitely not my best friend." Jade spat out the words harshly and Emily rolled her eyes, running her free hand through her blonde curls hair.
"I'm not leaving until you tell me," Emily spoke with conviction.
"Then have fun waiting around. I'm going to Karaoke Do -"
Jade's mother grabbed Jade by the arm and pulled her back unto the bed as the girl looked to exit the room. "You will go nowhere until I get an honest answer. I don't care how long it takes, I don't care how many times you make that face, I am not moving." Emily hissed her words and Jade pursed her lips in annoyance.
"He was never there; he was always working, always too busy."
Her mother stayed silent and then said, "He was doing it for you; he was doing it all for you honey. Your father is a noble man, a hardworking man who did everything he could for his family."
"Except love; when did he ever tell me he loved me?" Was all Jade said before she snatched her phone from her mother's hand and made her way downstairs.
Emily waited until she heard the front door slam shut before crumpling unto Jade's bed. Fat tears raced down her pale face and she made a deep throaty sound, refusing to cry even though she technically already was. Her hands shook and her breath shuddered. Emily sniffled and furiously wiped the tears away and dried her hands on her jeans.
Emily was finally successful in poisoning her daughter against her own father. All those times when Jade was just a child, breaking crayon after crayon on the old, worn, wooden table, they were finally resurfacing and Jade didn't even know. She wasn't even aware.
.
Jade, do you know your mother and I had lunch one day?
Do you know we both confessed to be horrible parents.
Do you know she cried for three hours?
I wished we could have been there when you needed us.
Don't you remember her red-rimmed eyes, Jade?
.
The following week, as Emily had promised, Jade had found herself at her father's apartment. Fortunately, Nancy made herself scare, taking along Jonah with her. Her father had left his house keys with Emily who gave them to Jade, with a tight smile and watery green eyes and said, "Jade, promise me you'll try to be more patient with your father. You two are more alike than you think," before she drove away before Jade had the chance to jump back into the car and convince her to take her back home.
"Funny," Jade snorted, "He tells me that about you and I all the time." She spoke softly as the car turned out of the residential area.
So now bonding time with Mr. West had been reduced to Jade snooping around his apartment for blackmail that she could use against him in the future whenever she needed or wanted something her mother wouldn't give her. Her father, being a man of structure, had everything neatly organized. Every drawer in his house was suited to contain a few specific items and those items only. After forty-five minutes of searching, Jade collapsed upon her father's bed, frowning slightly.
Her father had to have been hiding something. There was no way he was always this perfect.
If school had taught her anything, it was that everybody had their secrets.
Swinging her feet, she bounced on the bed and leaped off, her boots thundering against the wood flooring. She heard a small crack and her eyes widened in panic before she fell on her knees to examine the floor. Of course she would be the person who would end up cracking the wood because she jumped off the bed. Did she gain weight or something? What was she, a heffer now?
Instead of seeing a long crack upon the sheet of wood, she watched as the wood sank down just a little bit further than it should have, considering that the surface beneath the wood should have been cement.
It took five full minutes of Jade struggling with a butter knife before she was able to pry the piece of wood up, high enough so that she could pull it up with her hands. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of a piece of a hinge and felt the plank of wood shift. After a large concerted effort, two of the long planks raised perpendicular to the floor. Her breath hitched and her heart sounded in her chest; this was exactly what she was looking for. It was exactly what she needed to wrap her stoic father around her finger.
She smirked to herself, pulling out an old hard guitar case. While the shell case was hard, there was no dust indicating that it had been untouched for a long period of time. The blood rushed through her veins as she fumbled with the latch and threw the case open.
She blinked in confusion and her smirk disappeared.
A tentative pale hand hesitated before she reached inside the velvet case lining and picked up one of the numerous pieces of paper.
"To Daddy, love Jade," it said in large, blockish, childish letters of a blue crayon. Her hands trembled as she opened the unfolded the page. On it there was a drawing of a man, eyes large royal blue circles; musical notes fell from his smile and in his arms he held a large, boxish guitar. Half his size, was a girl with similar blue circles for eyes and a head of unruly brown curls, smiling widely and she held unto his pants.
There were dozens of drawings and even more pictures littered inside the guitar case. All of her and her father, hand in hand; smiling; eating ice-cream; cotton candy; in the park; her on his shoulders; her as a baby sleeping in his arms; him, guitar at ready mouth wide open over her bassinet. From the other side of the apartment, she heard the front door slam shut and the familiar sound of her father's fancy Italian shoes come in contact with the wood flooring.
Numbly, she closed the shell case and followed the sound of his shoes, hugging the neck of the guitar case to her chest.
"Jade, I didn't know you played guitar." Her father said, arching an eyebrow.
She didn't respond.
"Are you okay?" He asked, a faint frown making covering his face, taking a step closer to gaze into her vacant eyes.
She shrugged.
"Is there something you'd like to say?" He asked, eying her forlorn eyes and dazed expression.
She nodded, and then knelt down, opening the guitar case.
Her father's cell phone rang from inside his pants pocket but he didn't so much as move.
"Aren't you going to get that?" Jade asked suddenly and her father's head snapped up to search her face.
"Yes, of course," and her shoulders sagged as his hand fished into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. She shouldn't have expected anything-
"What is it that you'd like to ask me?" Her father asked after switching off his cell phone.
"Don't you need to get that?" his daughter asked skeptically.
"No," he shook his head.
"What are these?"
"Memories."
"I don't remember them."
"Would you like to?"
Jade nodded, "I won't forget this time. I think…I think I'd like to remember these things."
Her father broke out into a smile- one she hadn't seen in years. The one that made his eyes crinkle and the one that showed off his teeth.
.
Jade, I know you're only 2 weeks old now, but I promise to love you more than I've ever loved anyone before.
I promise to keep you smiling for as long as I can.
I promise to work until I bleed for the things you want.
.
Jade, I know you don't understand what daddy's saying, but won't you try to remember them when you grow up, Jade?
Won't you promise you'll never forget, Jade?
Can you do that for daddy?
Can you, Jade?
.
It's okay if you forget, daddy will always be here to remind you.
You know that, Jade, don't you?
.
Just try to remember, Jade. Please just try.
.
.
.
(.x.)
I'm beginning to think that maybe I should have dedicated a better fic.
I hate this.
A lot.
Fuck typos, I'm a lazy bitch.