1:30pm Doc Magoo's
Abby nervously entered the diner and scanned the room for her father.
"Abby, over here." He called waving her over to a booth in the corner. "I wasn't sure you would come."
"Me either."
"Abby, I know you're probably very suspicious of why I'm here. I would be too, but I wanted to tell you something that I didn't want you to hear from someone else."
"Are you dying?" She asked.
"No, my doctor says I'm in good health. Abby I'm getting married."
"Married?" She asked in shock.
"Yes, and I was hoping you and your brother would be there."
"I...I don't know."
"I know you're busy, but if you were there it would mean a lot to me." He pleaded.
Abby was in shock. She reached into her purse and tried to pull out her cigarettes, but was so nervous she ended up spilling most of the contents all over the table. "Shit."
"It's ok, let me help." He began helping her when he noticed a photo and picked it up to look at it. It was worn and creased in several different places. In it was a newborn baby, dressed up in a lavender dress and headband covering her small brown curls. Her brown eyes were wide open and reminded him much of Abby when she was born. She didn't notice he had the photo until she had finished putting everything else away. When she looked up he was studying the photo, he took his hand and ran his fingers across the face of the baby girl. "Is this.?" He began.
"Her name is Brooklyn." Abby stated.
"Brooklyn," he repeated. "She's beautiful. She looks just like you did. How old is she?"
"In that picture not more than a couple weeks, she's almost 3 now. Here," she reached into her purse and pulled out another picture, "this is just a couple of weeks ago." She said as she handed it to him. In this picture the little girl wasn't alone; she was smiling holding a baby boy.
"Is he yours?" He asked in disbelief.
"Yes, that's Joey he's nine months old." She explained.
"So, I'm a grandfather?"
"Looks that way," she said.
"The desk clerk mentioned something to one of the doctors about you being his wife. I thought you were divorced?"
"I am, but John and I married about four years ago."
"I'd like to meet them."
"Meet them? I don't think that's a good idea."
"I'm sorry I wasn't thinking." He said handing back the photos.
She handed the more recent one back to him and said, "Keep it. I have plenty."
"Look, Abby you have every right not to trust me. I wanted to be there for you and Eric, but I just couldn't handle it anymore." He tried to explain.
"And we could."
"Abby, I'm sorry."
"We were kids, babies, and you left us to take care of our sick mother. Why now? After more than twenty years you just show up and expect me to be a part of your life; a life that hasn't included me for twenty years!" Abby's hands were shaking; she couldn't believe what she had just said. Everything that she had been holding back for twenty years finally came out.
"You have every right to be angry, but all I'm asking is that you forgive me. I made a mistake, a huge mistake when I walked out on you. I know I can't make up for all the years I missed and I can't take away all the hurt in your life, but I want to get to know my daughter, and my grandchildren."
"You didn't even know you had grandkids until two minutes ago." She spat.
"May be this wasn't the right time. May be I should have just stayed away, but I couldn't. I love you Abby. I just want you to know that. I've thought about you and Eric everyday for the last twenty years."
"I have to go now." She wanted to leave before she could say anything else.
"Abby don't go."
"I have to. Brooklyn gets out of preschool in twenty minutes." She got up and made her way out of the diner. She was heading up the stairs to catch the EL when he caught up with her.
On the platform he pleaded, "Please Abby, I don't want to leave things like this. I have to get back to Minneapolis in two days. Can I see you again before then?" His voice was nearly drowned out by the approaching train.
"I don't think that's a good idea." She said before she stepped onto the train leaving him behind. Seconds later Abby found herself crying.
Abby nervously entered the diner and scanned the room for her father.
"Abby, over here." He called waving her over to a booth in the corner. "I wasn't sure you would come."
"Me either."
"Abby, I know you're probably very suspicious of why I'm here. I would be too, but I wanted to tell you something that I didn't want you to hear from someone else."
"Are you dying?" She asked.
"No, my doctor says I'm in good health. Abby I'm getting married."
"Married?" She asked in shock.
"Yes, and I was hoping you and your brother would be there."
"I...I don't know."
"I know you're busy, but if you were there it would mean a lot to me." He pleaded.
Abby was in shock. She reached into her purse and tried to pull out her cigarettes, but was so nervous she ended up spilling most of the contents all over the table. "Shit."
"It's ok, let me help." He began helping her when he noticed a photo and picked it up to look at it. It was worn and creased in several different places. In it was a newborn baby, dressed up in a lavender dress and headband covering her small brown curls. Her brown eyes were wide open and reminded him much of Abby when she was born. She didn't notice he had the photo until she had finished putting everything else away. When she looked up he was studying the photo, he took his hand and ran his fingers across the face of the baby girl. "Is this.?" He began.
"Her name is Brooklyn." Abby stated.
"Brooklyn," he repeated. "She's beautiful. She looks just like you did. How old is she?"
"In that picture not more than a couple weeks, she's almost 3 now. Here," she reached into her purse and pulled out another picture, "this is just a couple of weeks ago." She said as she handed it to him. In this picture the little girl wasn't alone; she was smiling holding a baby boy.
"Is he yours?" He asked in disbelief.
"Yes, that's Joey he's nine months old." She explained.
"So, I'm a grandfather?"
"Looks that way," she said.
"The desk clerk mentioned something to one of the doctors about you being his wife. I thought you were divorced?"
"I am, but John and I married about four years ago."
"I'd like to meet them."
"Meet them? I don't think that's a good idea."
"I'm sorry I wasn't thinking." He said handing back the photos.
She handed the more recent one back to him and said, "Keep it. I have plenty."
"Look, Abby you have every right not to trust me. I wanted to be there for you and Eric, but I just couldn't handle it anymore." He tried to explain.
"And we could."
"Abby, I'm sorry."
"We were kids, babies, and you left us to take care of our sick mother. Why now? After more than twenty years you just show up and expect me to be a part of your life; a life that hasn't included me for twenty years!" Abby's hands were shaking; she couldn't believe what she had just said. Everything that she had been holding back for twenty years finally came out.
"You have every right to be angry, but all I'm asking is that you forgive me. I made a mistake, a huge mistake when I walked out on you. I know I can't make up for all the years I missed and I can't take away all the hurt in your life, but I want to get to know my daughter, and my grandchildren."
"You didn't even know you had grandkids until two minutes ago." She spat.
"May be this wasn't the right time. May be I should have just stayed away, but I couldn't. I love you Abby. I just want you to know that. I've thought about you and Eric everyday for the last twenty years."
"I have to go now." She wanted to leave before she could say anything else.
"Abby don't go."
"I have to. Brooklyn gets out of preschool in twenty minutes." She got up and made her way out of the diner. She was heading up the stairs to catch the EL when he caught up with her.
On the platform he pleaded, "Please Abby, I don't want to leave things like this. I have to get back to Minneapolis in two days. Can I see you again before then?" His voice was nearly drowned out by the approaching train.
"I don't think that's a good idea." She said before she stepped onto the train leaving him behind. Seconds later Abby found herself crying.