Part 3

Bella lay underneath a car, fixing a snapped cable. She had done this a plethora of times, but for some reason, today she just couldn't get it right. She'd been fiddling with it since Will left a half hour ago. She couldn't concentrate. It was a simple procedure—considering her experience—yet she was unable to get the job done. She remained underneath, stopping for a moment, wiping smudges of grease off her face.

Tell me where I'm

supposed to begin

an unhappy life working

some kind of dead end job

for everything you thought you had

has gone from worse to bad

She didn't know what frustrated her more—the fact that she couldn't complete the routine task or that nearly all her life, she'd been doing these routine tasks. Bella felt tears surge to her eyes, biting her lip, she fought to hold them back, but was powerless.

She'd made so many plans, had so many dreams. Get an education, discover the world, get a real job, find true love. For awhile, it appeared as if those things were all within her reach. She got her degree, a tour of Europe was in the works, an internship in Chicago was set, and her on again-off again relationship with Sean really seemed to be working this time. Then—life stepped in. One day she was packing to go to Chicago…the next, she was buying a bus ticket to New Rawley.

Lean to the side

whisper it quiet

the end is in sight to working

all night around the clock

for everything you thought you had

has gone from worse to bad

New Rawley. Epitome of small town USA. It wasn't so much that she had to give up her plans, but that she had to give up her dreams—indefinitely. What she thought would have been a couple months turned into a year and into another and another. Look what the burden of being the dependable daughter got her. Nothing. Nowhere. Just exactly where she started.

But it's not my kind of scene oh yeah

footprints on the other side

remind me where I've been oh yeah

I'll watch from the other side

The tears streaked her face. They fell without ceasing, causing her to gasp for air. She couldn't take it anymore. She didn't want to. Fuck it. All this time…wasted. She was wasted. Sliding out from under the car, she got up, leaving her work incomplete, and headed upstairs. It was time—now or never.

Tell me where I'm

supposed to begin

move out of sight and onto

some life I'm dreaming of

for everything you thought you had

has gone from worse to bad

so I'll just wait and watch the wheels

while you're turning back

But it's not my kind of scene oh yeah

footprints on the other side

remind me where I've been oh yeah

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"WHAT?" Hamilton screamed. He felt as if his eyes were bulging out of his head, blood rushing through his veins. He knew that he had just heard what Scout said, but he didn't know if he understood what he meant.

"I know!" Scout replied. "That was my initial reaction."

Throwing his head back against the chair, he covered his face with his hands. His voice, though muffled, said, "I can't believe this."

Scout stood in front of Hamilton with his arms crossed in front of him. "And again I say…I know!"

"So that's why you went to Staten Island."

"Yup."

Putting his hands on his knees and leaning forward, "Tell me everything."

Pulling the computer chair in front of Hamilton, Scout sat down, rubbing his palms together, and started. "So this guy calls the office this morning saying he's a relative of Jake's wanting to know if he can still come to the wedding. Seeing that he was a relative and all, I let Linda put the call through. We start talking and after a couple minutes, I asked him what his name was—Philip Pratt. When I heard that…I knew…"

Hamilton interpolated, "It was Jake's dad."

Almost reluctantly, "Yeah."

For a moment, the room was completely still. Both Scout and Hamilton fought with their thoughts. Jake's dad. After all these years, he was back. They both remembered the story that, for many years, Jake was so disinclined to tell. She was nine years old when he left—without a word, without a trace. One morning, he was just gone. Jake absolutely adored him, for he was around more often than her mother was. He had practically raised her all by himself—thus, she loved to do the things that he taught her to do—ride a bike, play sports, tinker around with video games and computers—and despised anything that her mother even remotely enjoyed doing. Pretty much anything that marked her as "Monica's daughter." His absence crushed her and deepened the divide between mother and daughter. It grew worse over the years and ultimately led to the invention of "Jake." It wasn't until she graduated high school that the wounds her mother's lack of attention and love were healed.

Scout broke the silence by saying, "I know I should have called her first, but…I dunno. I just thought that I should check this guy out before I said anything and got her all worked up about it. So, I got an address and went out there."

He looked at Hamilton, hoping that he understood…and he did. If it had been Hamilton to had received that call, he would have done the exactly the same thing. He nodded, signaling Scout to go on.

"I spent the whole way over there thinking about what I was going to say. I had this plan…that was I was going to give him a piece of my mind. I mean, what kind of person walks out on their daughter? A daughter who loves you and reveres you! What kind of asshole does that?"

Shaking his head, Hamilton returned sadly, "A lot of assholes do that unfortunately."

"When I got there, I…I couldn't do it. I realized that what I wanted to say to him…I didn't have any right to say to him. Whatever I have to say isn't nearly as important as what Jake has to say."

"So what did you say?"

"I pretended that needed directions."

Hamilton rolled his eyes and added sarcastically, "Smooth."

"What did you want me to say? 'Hi I'm Scout, we spoke on the phone? Oh yeah…I just tracked you down and decided to come all the way out here just because I felt like it.' Now that would've been smooth. Look, it gave me enough time to get a good look around and see if he was for real."

"He actually let you in? I mean look at you," Hamilton stated, half joking.

"Do I look like a serial killer to you?"

"Weeeell…"

"It was hot outside…he offered me a seat while he went to write it down. While he was doing that, I saw something…something that definitely proved he's Jake's dad," Scout elucidated. The expression on his face was serious. "He had pictures of her…everywhere. Some by herself as a kid—I mean I've seen some of those pictures before—and a couple with him. There's no doubt in my mind that it was really him."

"Oh man," Hamilton whispered. A thousand thoughts flowed through his mind. This was for real. The man for who so long had been nothing more than a ghost or distant memory to Jake was just a subway ride away. What were they going to do? There was a wedding on Saturday—a wedding that was long overdue. There was no way this man, this man who dared to call himself her father, was going to ruin it for them. Hamilton would make sure that he would never hurt her again.