Okay, so I love the song 'Daddy Don't You Walk so Fast' by Wayne Newton and wanted to do a fanfic for Clare and her dad. The song is sad, and it was my inspiration. I suggest you listen to this song while reading this fanfiction.
Enjoy!
"Dad?"
He stares up at me with bleary eyes from his chair in the kitchen. He squints hard, like he can't see me. For some reason, I'm nervous. I've never been nervous in front of my father before.
"Clare?" He calls, like he isn't sure that I'm really me. I force a smile and nod.
"Yes, dad. It's me. How're you feeling?" I take a tentative step forward. He runs his hands down his face. He stands up slowly, wobbling slightly.
"Fine. What do you want?" He questions gruffly. He digs into his pocket and pulls out his leather wallet. "You need money?" He pulls out a couple of bills, thrusting it in my face. I push his arm down, declining his offer.
"N-No, dad, I don't need money I-" He gives me a quizzical look.
"Then what do you need?" He says, turning his back to me. I grab his shoulder and he flinches, like I've hurt him some how.
"I…I just wanted to see if you were busy. Y-You know, we haven't really spent any quality time together, so I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out." He scratched the back of his neck and let out a nasty cough that shook his whole frame.
"I don't know…" He trailed off uncertainly. I guess the disappointment was apparent on my face, because when he looked at me, he sighed deeply and nodded slowly. "Alright. I guess..." He looked around the room, looking for something the two of us could do together. He offered up something before me. "…I could give you driving lessons?" He stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out his set of keys.
I smiled and nodded eagerly. He gave me a half smile before reaching over and ruffling my hair. "Go wait by the car. I'll be down in a sec." I nodded and headed out while he ran upstairs. I only waited ten minutes before my dad stepped out the front door wearing new clothing. I slipped into the driver's seat while he slipped into the passenger seat.
"Alright, honey." He sighed, buckling himself in. There was a tense silence. Being alone with my hung-over father who I hadn't seen much of recently was not really comfortable. "Have you ever been behind the wheel?" He questioned, leaning back. I nodded.
"Once." I admitted. Albeit, it had been with Eli while we were cutting Art Appreciation with our substitute, Miss Campbell, but I had learned some of the basics. Starting up the car, my dad quickly instructed me on what to do. When we reached our first red light, he spoke.
"Where do you want to go?" He asked. I pondered on that. As long as I was with my dad, talking, I didn't care where we were.
"How about Delightful Delia's Creamery?" I offered. He nodded and continued to give me directions. After we arrived, he instructed me on how to park. Once safely in the spot, we stayed in silence, neither of us moving.
"You know, Darcy was about your age when she started learning how to drive." He explained softly. I gaped.
"Darcy knows how to drive?" I had never seen her drive a car before. He chuckled softly.
"Nope. But she started to learn. She gave up after the first few tries." We laughed together before stepping out of the car. We entered the ice cream parlor and ordered.
"You still like vanilla?" He asked as we took a seat with our orders. I nodded shyly. He smiled, scooping up a spoonful of his strawberry ice cream.
"You always got vanilla while Darcy always got pistachio when we went to the park."
"And Darcy used to say…" I replied.
"I don't like vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry. They're not special like pistachio!" We both said in unison. I laughed until tears came to my eyes. We were lucky that we were the only customers in the store. But it was eight o' clock in the evening. I liked being here with my dad, remembering the good times. Where did they go? When did sweet nothings become hateful words in my house? When did quality time mean we sat tensely at the dinner table, eating as quickly as we could so we could leave?
"I missed this." I sighed, popping a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth. My dad nodded, his happy demeanor slowly slipping.
"Me too, Clare. Me too. I wish things didn't have to be like this at home. And though I haven't said it, I'm sorry." He coughed suddenly, making me smile. My dad wasn't usually wasn't the emotional type.
"Thanks, daddy." I murmured. The two of us finished and headed for the car. While he drove, we talked. Really talked. He easily avoided my questions about work or mom, but he couldn't stop asking me school related questions. Sometimes he threw me a curveball and asked about friends or, worse, boys.
When we got home, we separated; me, bound for bed, and him….I wasn't sure. Probably to drink. Or maybe smoke. Or, hopefully, to sleep. I was happy. The time I spent with my father was nice. Hopefully we could continue. I fell asleep, blissful.
When I woke up the next morning, I dressed for church. I usually went by myself. I had been skipping a couple of times, even though my parent's neither cared nor noticed. But I felt like I had to. I dashed down the stairs.
Looking around, I hoped to see my dad. Maybe he would join me today. When I couldn't find him anywhere, I decided to leave without him. He probably left the house.
After church, I came home to find my house still empty. Lonely, I sought company from Alli, who was, thankfully, free. The two of us hung out at The Dot until about four. She left hastily to get home, frantically speaking about her mother's relatives visiting and her needing to be there as soon as possible.
Bored, I wandered into the nearby park and played on the swing set until my phone vibrated. I was surprised, and happy, to see Eli calling.
"Thought you said you were going to be busy all weekend." I spoke before he did. I heard him chuckle.
"The…err…event ended earlier than I thought. Where are you now?" He asked. I had been curious as to where he was going, but he left me no hints or clues.
"At the park, swinging." I replied idly. I smiled when he announced he would be there shortly.
When he did arrive, he sat on the seat adjacent to me.
"Did you miss me?" He joked, staring at me. I shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.
"Not really." I lied. He laughed and hopped off his swing, deciding to push me instead.
"Liar." He whispered in my ear when I was near him, making my cheeks burn. "So what did you do yesterday?" He questioned. Swinging back and forth started to nauseate me, so I let my flats drag across the floor until I stopped.
"Hung out with my dad." I responded rather proudly. It made me joyful to remember such a nice moment in a tornado of bad memories.
"Really?" Eli questioned, gripping the chains that held the swing up. He leaned over me, while I stared up into his forest green eyes. I nodded and we smiled at each other.
Later that day, he drove me to my empty house. I invited him in.
"I'm a little worried." I confessed when we sat down in the living room. It was already seven thirty and my dad had still not returned.
We waited hours. We waited while we ate. We waited while we watched some crappy movie. We waited until his mother demanded he come home when two a.m. rolled around. I waited, even when Eli called me, announcing I should go to sleep, since we had school the next day.
Around four in the morning, I finally fell asleep, worry set deep in my heart. When I woke up, I was disappointed to find my mom, who had returned from her religious retreat, was the one waking me.
"Where's your father?" She questioned, somewhat worried. I frowned.
"He's not here?" Then it hit me. Of course he wasn't here. I would've woken up to screaming if that was the case. Sitting up, I turned to the time. It was already six. I would have to leave for school in an hour.
Even throughout the school day, I couldn't focus. Where was my dad? He never went missing before. Eli had tried to console me, but I was too worried. Even when he when he went drinking, he always came home.
When I got home, my mother was crying.
"What happened?" I questioned, running up to her. A million different scenarios ran through my mind, all of them involving my father dead.
"He left, Clare. Packed up everything and just…left." I froze. He…left? Gone? Vanished? I ran up to my parents' room only to find everything my father owned…gone.
His car, clothes, money, shoes, and one photo of Darcy and me. That was all that went missing. He was gone. So I ran.
Even when my mother called out to me, I ran. I ran as far as I could. I ran until I reached at least a mile away from home.
My dad was a fighter. He faced everything head on. Work. Money problems. Darcy. He had faced everything head on.
But now?
Now, he left, leaving me alone in the dark, crying, wanting my father now more than ever.
When a hearse drove up beside me, I knew I had to leave, and face the hardest thing I had ever faced before.
A life without my dad.
Well, what did you think? Nice and sad! Review if you thought it wasn't that terrible!
~S.S.