Voice of Desirae: Part 2
NoV: Hey! Sorry it took me so long to update. I got a new computer, and you know how that is, so.....
Bisho: I like chocolate.
NoV: Yes, of course you do, darling. ^_^ Anyway, here's the ficcie! PART 2! YAY!
** Malcolm traipsed gingerly back into the living room, stepping cautiously over a pile of dirty blue jeans. Rachel sat on the couch, ignoring him as she buffed her light pink fingernails.
Malcolm sat opposite her in a green recliner, having to first remove a dirty sock from the chair.
"So," he said, folding his hands across his knee, thoughtfully, "she seems healthy. No life-threatening diseases, no extreme dismemberments, not even a terribly challenging science project. So, please tell me: why the hell did you make me come all the way out here?"
Rachel refused to look up and him and continued to rub her nails. "I've raised her alone all these years. It's your turn to take her for thirteen years."
"It's not my fault you decided to kick me out," he said, glancing up at a picture of two plump cats staring into a mouse hole. "When you decide to force a person out of your life, that's the same as taking responsibility for everything you're left with." He paused when she didn't say anything. "And why didn't you tell me she was deaf? You just sent me in there, not even giving me—"
"She's not deaf, you dumb ass," Rachel said, suddenly looking at him straight in the eyes. "She's mute."
"Well, excuse me," Malcolm said, waving his hand in the air. "You still should have told me something.....by the way, what does it mean when she pats her cheek, like this?" He made the same gesture Desirae had when she had peeked out of the shower.
"That's what she does when she wants to laugh," Rachel replied, going back to polishing her fingernails.
"And when she does this?" he asked. He motioned hitting his head with his fist, just as his daughter had done when he had first walked into her room.
"That's the signal she uses for 'Dad'," she said, with a smirk. "Hitting herself in the head is the perfect way to show someone how she feels about her paternal parent." Malcolm didn't respond. He simply held his head in his hands, and sighed.
Rachel put her nail kit away and sat up on the couch. She pulled her strapless top up, since it was falling down, exposing more of her cleavage than was comfortable. "Look. The least you can do for your daughter is take her out for lunch. You owe her that much. At least try to get to know her."
He looked up at her, cocking an eyebrow. "Why did she take off her clothes, and hop in the shower, while I was standing there, trying to talk to her?" he asked.
Rachel laughed. "She's probably mad at you. Did that to one of my boyfriends before."
"This is ridiculous!" Malcolm cried. "I don't even know her! I didn't even know you when.....you know. And now, you just expect us to have a relationship? And I don't know sign language," he said, seriously.
Rachel gazed at him, genuinely. "Neither does she."
**
NoV: Yay! Part 2 is complete! Part 3 will be up in a much shorter time! Promise!
Bisho: I like seafood!
NoV: Of course, sweetness.
NoV: Hey! Sorry it took me so long to update. I got a new computer, and you know how that is, so.....
Bisho: I like chocolate.
NoV: Yes, of course you do, darling. ^_^ Anyway, here's the ficcie! PART 2! YAY!
** Malcolm traipsed gingerly back into the living room, stepping cautiously over a pile of dirty blue jeans. Rachel sat on the couch, ignoring him as she buffed her light pink fingernails.
Malcolm sat opposite her in a green recliner, having to first remove a dirty sock from the chair.
"So," he said, folding his hands across his knee, thoughtfully, "she seems healthy. No life-threatening diseases, no extreme dismemberments, not even a terribly challenging science project. So, please tell me: why the hell did you make me come all the way out here?"
Rachel refused to look up and him and continued to rub her nails. "I've raised her alone all these years. It's your turn to take her for thirteen years."
"It's not my fault you decided to kick me out," he said, glancing up at a picture of two plump cats staring into a mouse hole. "When you decide to force a person out of your life, that's the same as taking responsibility for everything you're left with." He paused when she didn't say anything. "And why didn't you tell me she was deaf? You just sent me in there, not even giving me—"
"She's not deaf, you dumb ass," Rachel said, suddenly looking at him straight in the eyes. "She's mute."
"Well, excuse me," Malcolm said, waving his hand in the air. "You still should have told me something.....by the way, what does it mean when she pats her cheek, like this?" He made the same gesture Desirae had when she had peeked out of the shower.
"That's what she does when she wants to laugh," Rachel replied, going back to polishing her fingernails.
"And when she does this?" he asked. He motioned hitting his head with his fist, just as his daughter had done when he had first walked into her room.
"That's the signal she uses for 'Dad'," she said, with a smirk. "Hitting herself in the head is the perfect way to show someone how she feels about her paternal parent." Malcolm didn't respond. He simply held his head in his hands, and sighed.
Rachel put her nail kit away and sat up on the couch. She pulled her strapless top up, since it was falling down, exposing more of her cleavage than was comfortable. "Look. The least you can do for your daughter is take her out for lunch. You owe her that much. At least try to get to know her."
He looked up at her, cocking an eyebrow. "Why did she take off her clothes, and hop in the shower, while I was standing there, trying to talk to her?" he asked.
Rachel laughed. "She's probably mad at you. Did that to one of my boyfriends before."
"This is ridiculous!" Malcolm cried. "I don't even know her! I didn't even know you when.....you know. And now, you just expect us to have a relationship? And I don't know sign language," he said, seriously.
Rachel gazed at him, genuinely. "Neither does she."
**
NoV: Yay! Part 2 is complete! Part 3 will be up in a much shorter time! Promise!
Bisho: I like seafood!
NoV: Of course, sweetness.