It would seem that quite a lot of you liked the first part, hehe which is lovely. Thus the story continues, and hopefully this pleases y'all too. Hopefully.
I would like to say though that a third part might not be up for some time. Chaos has descended upon my house, so I've had to move in with my grandma, who still lives in the 20th century, without technology, so I'll have to resort to pen and paper, old school yo.
II
Part II.
From the word go, Angelica had a personality of her own.
As her daughter goes through the motions of learning to walk and talk and generally cause chaos everywhere, Jade couldn't help feeling the swellings of pride.
Angelica lives up to her name. She's a quiet child, calm and untroubled. She loves to dance and knows the words to the entirety of Mulan. Jelly's favourite food is chicken nuggets and she slavers ketchup on everything. She puts her toys in jelly, earning her the nickname and loves the colour orange. Her dark brown hair tickles her non-existent hips and is brushed constantly by fingers and combs, so that it flows like a swath of silk.
Freckles scatters her face like constellations, blow across her button nose and full cheeks and her eyes are warm and bright and utterly vivacious.
She never asks about her dad, the question was answered long ago with a 'you have a father, but not a daddy.' She doesn't know though, that everything she does, each finger painting she makes or golden star sticker she gets, makes her mommy's hand reach that little bit closer to the phone, to try and reach someone unknown to her. What Angelica doesn't know is that whenever Jade looks at her all she can think is 'look what we made.'
She goes with Jade to each and every one of her auditions, and even gets to feature, abet in the background of a soap commercial. When Jade's career, out of some miracle alights to Broadway, she sits beside all the dancers and learns the moves and graces with ease.
And on each of her birthdays, the two of them, Jade and Angelica, sit on the roof of their apartment block and eat red velvet cup cakes, and drink cans of lemonade, whilst wishing upon stars.
II
She visits them once, Cat and Robbie.
Jelly had just turned five in a flurry of pink frosting and heart shaped confetti.
The two of them had holed themselves up on Long Island, and bought into the whole kitschy lifestyle. A lemon coloured kitchen and potted houseplants; two kids and a dog to boot. They'd boarded the baby train early too, with a three year old chatter box called Katy, and a thumbing sucking baby called Ben.
She'd sat there in that kitchen, surrounded by finger painted drawings and mugs entitling Robbie as the best dad in the world. She'd clutched one of those mugs so tightly that her knuckles went white as Cat rolled on and on about everything that had happened in the past five years. She was training to become an elementary school teacher, which of course made complete sense; Cat was still on the same emotional level as many of her pupils.
She would occasionally nod and inject into the conversation a casual sigh, or a light hearted 'no way', but she wasn't that sincere. She tried to be, honestly, but the setting she was trapped in, the woman she was now talking to, everything just made her sad: it reminded her of the type relationship she just didn't, couldn't have.
Jade and Angelica stayed for supper (a begrudged agreement from one.) The novelty of it, she thought, it was almost reminiscent of high school; all of them crowed round one tiny table, their children standing in for those three missing persons.
The girls eventually tired themselves out, dancing around the small living room. Twirling and twirling around in the contents of Katy's dressing up box, whilst singing along to Grease. Cat of course couldn't help her self but join them, dressing up as some princess dragon hybrid, as Ben curled up on Jade's lap and dozed.
She had to carry Jelly to the car, her tiny face tucked in under her neck and Jade could feel her warm breath on her jaw, and the light fist balling up her top.
After the long drive, she lay Jelly down softly in her bed, and pulled the pink covers up around her; tucking her in with a kiss to the forehead.
When she later collapsed onto the sofa, Jade couldn't understand why in hell they'd settled down so early. But hours after their goodbyes, she realised; it was simple. It was because they were comfortable. Because they were happy. Because Jade realised, they'd found a way to pause time.
II
She meets a boy called Daniel (not that Daniel) and somehow they hit a balance.
He's a struggling musician and on their first date in some musty little coffee shop he straight off the bat tells her he's a recovering drug addict.
'How recovered'
'Six years'
'So did you really needed to tell me that?'
She likes how he cuts the crap and she admires that. He also doesn't mind how blunt and sharp and prickly she can be, and somehow she finds her self happy, gleeful almost for once. She finds that she enjoys the adult company, she relishes at the press of flesh, rough kisses and hastened words whispered in her ear; to be able to finally share a bed and it not be a throw away fling. She knows it feels oh so familiar, but its a bitter sweet emotion. She wants the chase; the courtship, but with every kiss his taste appears.
She introduces him to Angelica after a couple of months. He wanted to meet her sooner, but Jade wanted to see how steadfast their relationship is. She just decides to go with it, fall face first and not stop for a second to think; that to let Danny in, she has to push him out.
He's an early bird, which suits Angelica's routine, so Jade gets to start each morning with a different show tune. Daniel teaches Jelly a few chords on the guitar and how to hold a note, her tiny lungs can't quite yet, but Jade is pretty sure she'll be able to one day, it's in her genes.
She supposes he fancies him self as some sort of Joseph figure, a father to a child that's not his. It makes her feel slightly uncomfortable, how he's suddenly come very close. He's never, ever abusive, apart from to himself. He's self-deprecating, but also she realises, so very self-absorbed.
She feels like they're two clashing black holes, threatening to consume the other, not really caring about the constellations between them, how many wishes they'll be blighting out.
Despite this she trusts him. He's there for both of them, supporting Jade as she hits the ground running with her career. It's probably the reason that she sits him down, ten months into the relationship and quietly tells him who Angelica's dad really is. She has him swear on his life he'll never tell, and he does.
Though a week later, Jade finds to her regret, that she forgot to get him to promise never to leave her.
II
The reviewers love her first venture into film. But they don't just love her; they worship her. Words like 'fresh' and 'abundant talent' litter the pages she sticks to their fridge, words that flit across her mind and make her twinkle inside.
When the news of a nomination come in, she twirls Jelly around the room in a flurry of loud giggles and swishing hair.
They gorge themselves on Happy Meals and strawberries and icing sugar all laid out on napkins on the roof.
They lie on their backs, Angelica pressed under Jade's arms, even though New York's moist haze is making them both uncomfortable.
It's cliché, she knows, but for her Angelica, she embraces this sweet moment of having everything and nothing both in her hands, at the same time.
In her daughter's contented murmurs of a story about angels Jade feels, for a small slip of time, complete.
A sugar rush soon follows and they dance around the roof manically, calling to the constellations, serenading to the heavens,
For a moment, Jade loses her self and imagines his face and wants to wildly punch out, lash out at the man who left and scream 'why' and 'look, you shouldn't have left.'
All of this pent up anger spills out of her as tears, and instead of a fist, all she can do is secretly wipe away the salty tracks and return to her twirling daughter.
II
After three films she takes a break from the flash of bulbs and the pages of scripts. They get a dog, whom Angelic ironically wants to call Beck, after seeing a film with him in it at the weekend.
It's so fucking cruel. Fate or Karma or some other mystic shit just loves to kick her up the ass.
She doubts that Angelica even made the connection in that 2 hours, that those big brown eyes she was staring up at on the silver screen were identical to hers. Or that her incessant hair toying and how she constantly looks upwards with a furrowed brow, was handed to her on a genetic platter by him.
When she chirrups 'Lets call him Beck, like that man in the movie.' Jade almost simultaneously combusts-cries-throws-up, almost. Instead she tactfully guides her daughter away from the name.
'Beck not very sweet, sounds kinda rough doesn't it.'
'But puppy has the same fur as him, look its all floppy, like floppy chocolate.' The likeness Angelica has found inspires a peel of laughter, which Jade can't help but melt at.
Jade delights when later that day Angelic relents and settles on the name Oliver. Prince Oliver III, of course. Jade feels the malicious tickle of irony, but at least she knows she won't fall for this Oliver.
II
The press have a field day when they find out she's a single mom.
She surprised its taken this bloody long for the news to break, as she doesn't exactly shepard Jelly about under a coat.
She took Angelica to the zoo for her seventh birthday. She can feel the glare of the lens, unsubtly hiding behind the bushes. There's so many fucking cameras that she wouldn't be surprised if one of those fat lions that Angelica loved pulled one out.
Their pictures are splashed out on page seven of countless magazines. The one she does read with distaste somehow came to the conclusion that Angelica's dad must have been a high school boyfriend, one that in a later press conference, Jade refuses to name.
The even more sickening thing is that Jade's story shared a double with news of his birthday celebration.
Maybe, Jade reasoned, maybe if any of the readers had even an ounce of a brain, they might realise the stark resemblance between father and daughter.
And maybe, if Jade squinted too, she might make out that his apparent 'booze cruise', was less of a celebration and rather a bid to drown his sorrows.
II
After six years he breaks the silence, with a simple 'I need to see her' over the phone.
Jade hangs up before he can begin to address her and she suddenly feels sick as time comes crashing around her.