Chapter Nineteen: Thirteen Years, Nine Months
"Hey Dad."
Zoe had her right arm in a sling, and there was a long gash on her forehead which hadn't quite healed. Tony suspected it had needed stitches.
And there was a look in her eyes that hadn't been there before, one which left him feeling slightly uneasy.
"Hey, Zoe. How are you?"
She shrugged lopsidedly. "I'm okay. Getting better, I guess."
"You wanna talk about it?"
She squeezed her eyes shut and sniffed. "Yes," she squeaked. "I try to talk to Mom, but Oliver says I shouldn't mention the accident because it'll upset her, or if I cry he asks me not to, and I can't get her alone because he hovers around her like there's some kind of rope joining them together, and all I want is for her to hug me and tell me it's alright, but--" a small sob escaped her and she shook her head viciously. "I was just so scared," she said, and immediately an image of Michelle leapt into Tony's mind.
"I'm so tired, and I'm so scared…"
And he had hugged her and held her tight and comforted her, and all Zoe wanted was a hug and that bastard Oliver was denying her that…
"Oh, Zoe…"
"I really thought I was gonna die, and then I thought Mom was gonna die, and now just because we didn't no one seems to care that we could have…"
"Hey, I care. I am absolutely certain that your mom cares. Heck, Oliver probably cares too, he just doesn't understand what you need from your mother right now…"
"I know, I just…"
You just want a hug.
"Zoe, put your hand up against the glass," he said suddenly.
She looked up at him and furrowed her brow in confusion at this request, but slowly complied, balancing the phone against her shoulder so she could still hear him.
He pressed his palm flat against the glass directly opposite. "You see my hand? You see the distance between it and yours?"
"Uh-huh…" Zoe was still bewildered.
"Alright, I want you to imagine that distance getting smaller. It's not glass between us, it's just air… And now I'm reaching out and I'm holding your hand."
Zoe nodded, staring at the space between their hands, starting to understand.
"Can you feel my hand?" Tony asked. "Yours is small and delicate, but there's strength in your grip -- probably from all that karate."
"Yours is big and strong and the skin is kinda rough -- probably from lifting all those weights in the gym," she grinned.
Tony smiled. "Okay, now close you eyes. I'm gonna come over there and hug you, carefully, so I don't hurt your arm."
"No, it's all healed now," said Zoe, closing her eyes. "I'm just gonna throw my arms around you and hug you so hard you can't breathe."
He laughed. "Same here, then."
"I bet I'm stronger than you."
"Oh, you really think so, do you?"
"Yep. Now I have my head on your shoulder and your stubble is tickling my cheek."
Tony faked a gasp. "Oh no! I forgot to shave?"
Zoe giggled. "Yeah, I guess you did."
"I probably didn't have time because I spent too long in the shower trying to make sure I wouldn't stink."
"Well, you did a good job with the showering, then."
Tony took a moment to just gaze at her, hand up against the glass, head tilted to one side to hold the phone in place, a small smile on her face.
She was so perfect.
His silence prompted her to open her eyes and she caught him looking at her.
"What?" she asked.
"Nothing," he said with a smile. "Just thinking about how you're the best daughter ever."
This made her blush. "Thank you," she said, and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment before saying, "Thank you for everything."
"Hey…" Tony shrugged light-heartedly. "There are some good things you can learn in prison. One of those being how to make very good use of your imagination."
Zoe just smiled.
Author's Note: People keep saying "update soon"… sheesh, how much faster do you want me to go?! :P
Seriously, thanks for reviewing :)