Author's Note: This story will take place from December 7th, 2010, to January 7th, 2011, unless I decide to change it. Please review!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything besides Tara and Jessica. This story is purely fictional.
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Her Daughter's Father
Prologue
--December 7th, 2010—
The pretty redhead smiled at the smaller image of her curled up on the navy, leather couch, clutching the remote dearly.
"Tara?" the redhead, Lita, said as she walked forward, kneeling in front of her daughter. Sleepily, Tara opened her clear, bright blue eyes, mumbling something incoherently under her breath. "It's time for bed, sweetie. It's a school night."
"I'm 8 years old," Tara reminded her proudly, "I should get to stay up past 9!" she pouted, sticking out her lower lip. Lita smiled.
"Your sister is already in bed and she's 12."
"So? Jessica always goes to sleep every night besides Tursday," Tara said.
"It's Thursday, honey, and she does it because she wants to see Daddy."
Tara's eyes widened, "You mean she sees Daddy every Thursday? Why can't I see him?"
Lita sighed, gently pushing her daughter's waist-long red hair away from her face as she said slowly, "She only sees Daddy on TV. She doesn't get to talk to him, sweetie."
"I want to talk to him," Tara said simply, staring up at Lita with her blue eyes. Lita smiled, hating the guilty feeling rising up in her throat.
'If you really want to see your Daddy, I'll turn on RAW,' she thought glumly, and immediately shook the thought away. She had promised that she wouldn't think about it!
Lita paused, lost in her thoughts, staring down at Tara. After a minute, she smiled, her hands reaching out to tickle Tara mercilessly. Tara let out a squeal, rolling onto the beige carpet. "MOMMY!" she cried out, standing up and running for her room. Lita laughed, rushing up to her, and lifting her up. She carried Tara to her bed, setting her down on her bed with a bounce. Tara giggled.
"Goodnight," Lita said, leaning down to kiss Tara on the forehead, "I'll see you in the morning."
"Night, Mom." Lita flicked off the lights, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the utter darkness when she heard Tara's soft voice. "Mom? When is Daddy coming home?" Lita winced inwardly at the question.
"Soon, sweetie. Christmas is coming up. He'll be here." Tara mumbled something, snuggling deeper into her covers. Lita stepped out, shutting the door quietly. She walked toward the couch, flopping down onto it.
How long could she keep this lie up? Lita buried her face into a pillow. Tara should have a right to know her father, she reprimanded to herself. But Tara doesn't even know her father! She thinks its Matt! Lita felt like screaming into the pillow. The lie that she had worked so hard to protect was destroying her. Did she really have a right to keep Tara from her father? He doesn't even know that Tara was his, for that matter! Lita flipped onto her back, staring up at the dimmed lights on the ceiling. He doesn't love me, she reasoned, it was just a one night thing! In her heart, she knew that it was a lie. Another lie to help her from the even bigger lie she'd started. If Tara's father really didn't love – or like – her at all, he wouldn't be one of her good friends, would he? Lita jumped as the phone rang.
She debated leaping up to pick it up, but didn't, knowing that the single phone ringer that she left on wouldn't wake her two daughters.
After the fifth ring, the answering machine picked up. "Hey Lita, it's me, Matt," she cringed, her stomach whirling. Matt, the man who thought that Tara was his daughter, "I was just calling to tell you that I got two full weeks off this year! I get off on the 19th. I'll probably be home on the 20th, and I have to leave again and be in Michigan by the 4th of January. Can't wait to see my girls! Tell them that I miss them and I love them! Ditto goes for you, too," Matt added with a laugh, "I'll see you soon! Bye! Love you!"
The answering machine beeped, but the redhead's eyes had traveled from the recording machine to the TV, where RAW is War was playing on the screen. Chris Jericho was out in the ring, yelling about one thing or another and the image was a close up of his face.
Lita lowered her eyes, looking away from his face. She did not want to look at the image. She didn't want to look, and see her daughter's eyes dancing merrily back at her.
'I have to tell them,' she realized, 'or I'll go crazy.' Lita trailed her gaze to the two wooden doors. Beyond each was one of her daughters. Beyond each was a daughter born from a different man.
Lita wrapped her robe tighter around her, looking at herself in the mirror, imagining that she was still out in the ring, out with her husband. Usually, she only thought of it for a moment or two, but this time she thought about it, harder and harder… Tara and Jessica, she thought, are old enough to understand wrestling… They wouldn't mind being schooled on the road to be with their parents…
Lita pushed the thought aside. RAW would be coming to North Carolina next week. Vince had told her that she was welcome any time she wanted to come… Lita looked back at the mirror quietly, her eyes dismal. The lie that she was hiding was tearing her up inside, but once she revealed the truth, would that hurt her worse?
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