This ought to brighten up your Tuesday...or at least I hope it does! Enjoy!
Chapter Four
I woke up to the sound of a sharp rapping on the door. The clock read 7:00 a.m. Pulling my sheets over my head, I shouted "What?!"
"Get up. You've been in your room long enough." The sound of my uncle's voice reached my ears, making me extremely agitated.
"It's seven in the morning." I groaned.
"Precisely. Time to get up and greet the day."
"No."
"I'd hate to do this, but I will make you come out of there."
"The door's locked, genius." I said sarcastically.
"Don't think I won't bust down this door." And when I thought about it, he definitely could. He was rather muscular, and when he tackled that guy in the subway, I couldn't name one person who would have wanted to mess with him.
"I'll give you ten minutes to get out of this room. If you aren't out by then, I'll make good on my promise." Not really wanting to make a scene that morning, I hoisted myself out of bed and pulled on a simple pair of jeans and an old high school t-shirt. I put my hair into a messy ponytail and tried to make myself not to look like the wreck I had been the past few days. I made it out of into the living area right before the ten minute timer.
"Just in time." Natasha said from a small kitchen table, my uncle right across from her. There was quite a few breakfast choices on the table; waffles, bacon, eggs, sausage, fruit. I quietly took a place between her and my uncle.
"I didn't know what you liked, so I sort of fixed everything." I attempted a smile to show my gratitude. She was at least trying to make this work. That was one thing I could appreciate as long as I lived here.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" My uncle asked. "Help yourself." I took a few waffles with a couple pieces of bacon. It was one of the things Dad would fix on Saturday mornings, so it felt a little like home (but I wasn't about to call it that.) Before I knew it, I had eaten everything on my plate...and I was still hungry.
"You would think that she hadn't eaten a good meal in a while." Uncle Clint made a miniscule attempt at humor.
No, just not in a few days. Cheerios could hardly fill a growing teenager.
"So, Hannah," I perked up at him saying my name, "I was thinking...you know, since you've been cooped up for a few days, that you might want to get some fresh air."
"I'm good. Thanks." I tried to avoid getting out as much as possible. As much as I loved the outdoors, the last thing I wanted was to be around society.
"Let me rephrase that. You're going to get some fresh air today." I sighed, knowing that this was going to be a force issue, so it was probably best not to argue with him.
With a shrug of my shoulders, I muttered, "Whatever you want." The room was silent until breakfast was over.
"We'll see you later, Nat." My uncle said, giving her a brief kiss before opening the door.
"I think she needs help doing the dishes." I mentioned, making one last attempt to keep from any private time with my uncle.
"Don't worry. I've got it." Natasha said with a satisfied smirk as she saw my frustration. "Have fun!" She yelled as the door closed behind us.
The trees were blooming with new leaves, the Sun was out and I couldn't have been in a more dismal mood. My uncle walked silently beside me, his footsteps not even audible as we walked down the deserted sidewalks.
"Umm...beautiful morning." I was determined to douse that little spark of hope of conversation as quickly as possible.
"I guess."
"Have you ever been to any big cities?" I shook my head.
"Dad and I never got out of town much."
"You're adjusting rather well to it though."
"It's a nice change of scenery. It doesn't remind me of him." He knew I meant Dad.
"Was he a good father?" The question caught me off guard. Why would he care? I figured if he hadn't seen his own brother in years, he surely wouldn't care about how he raised his own daughter.
"Yes, he was." I laughed for a moment as I remembered an old memory. "We used to play flag football in the house when Mom wasn't home." The visions of jumping over the couch to make a field goal and Dad catching me up in his arms like I weighted nothing at all brought me out of reality and into a moment of blissful remembrance.
"Hannah?" My uncle pulled me back to the present and I looked at him.
"Sorry, must have fazed out." I pushed my gaze back to the ground with embarrassment.
"You really miss him, don't you?"
"What do you care anyways?" I said harshly, which surprised him.
"What do you mean 'what do you care?' He was my brother."
"And yet you never contacted him."
"Hey, he never contacted me either. Or did you forget that too?" I wasn't prepared for his sharp tone.
"Sorry. Just didn't think family mattered to you after all these years."
"I didn't even know he was alive until after that phone call a few days ago."
"Then how did he get your contact number?"
Now he had this questioning look on his face.
"You didn't know about me either?"
"I didn't even know he had a brother until after he died." He was silent for a moment, thoughts circulating in his mind, just like me.
"So this was just as big a shock for you as it was for me."
"Yeah. I guess so."
Both of our worlds had been flipped upside down by this unexpected tragedy and family reunion. And, somehow, we had to make sense of it all. Was that even possible?
"So...do you like flag football?" He tried to change the subject for the sake of both of us.
"Yeah. It's one of my favorite sports, besides basketball, that is."
"Maybe we could shoot some hoops sometime."
"I'd like that."
True to his word, my uncle had a basketball in his hands the following morning. After being told at least a dozen times not to have the orange, spherical object on the table by Natasha, he decided it was time to take it outside to the park located about three blocks from the apartment. I could see an encouraging look from her to Clint as we headed out the door.
"You're not very good at this game, are you?" I asked my uncle as I dribbled the ball through his legs and made a successful layup.
"You don't have to be good at it to like it." He said as we checked the ball again. So far the score was 17-2. You could only guess what my score was as I stole the ball from him (again) and pulled a three pointer.
"Did you play in high school?" He asked in stark wonder.
"Dad taught me. He was a real fanatic about the sport." There seemed to be a lot of things he didn't know about his brother. But a lot had changed in the time they spent apart. A lot.
I dribbled the ball to the center of the court, ready to face off again when he waved up a hand.
"Let's take a breather for a minute." I consented and we sat down on a nearby bench.
"You should have played in school. You're a natural." He wiped some sweat off his brow.
"I wasn't really into it. Dad was my only favorite player."
"You guys were really close then?"
"We were all each other had. After Mom died, we were closer than ever."
"Who was your mother?"
"Leah Parker Barton. You would have loved her."
"How did she umm...pass? If you don't mind me asking."
"She had cancer...brain cancer." It still stung to think of the memory, sitting in the living room with Mom and Dad, Dad holding Mom's hand tightly and clinging to her like a small child. I could remember the numbness when they had told me. Thirteen years old and learning that your mother was going to die in a matter of weeks was not easy by any means. I remembered crying myself to sleep every night before and many nights after her death. Dad and I started to spend most of our time together until we spent almost every waking moment besides school and work with each other. And I loved it. I wanted my father and he wanted me. I thought we would be together forever until a few days ago.
"I'm sorry." He said sadly. "I understand."
"What do you mean?"
"Barney didn't tell you?"
"About what?"
"About our parents...your grandparents?" I shook my head.
"They died in a car accident when we were kids." That was perhaps the biggest surprise yet since I had gotten here.
"Why wouldn't Dad tell me about something like that?"
"The same way he didn't want you to know about me." My uncle answered, a perplexed expression on his face.
"But why?"
"I don't know." There was a short silence between us. "I don't know."
Clint's P.O.V.
"I don't get it, Nat. I just don't get it." I said to my wife as she placed a cup of tea in front of me that evening. I had just told her everything that Hannah had revealed to me yesterday and this morning at the park. Hannah had long gone to bed...either that or she was lying awake wondering what other secrets my brother had kept from her.
"He never told her anything?"
"Not even about me." I repeated to her. So that's why Hannah was angry. She thought I had never wanted to be a part of their family when she found out about me. Probably thought I was too stuck up to even care that my brother was still alive...or that I had a niece. However, the biggest thing that left me in confusion was how Barney knew how to get a hold of me after all these years. How?
"I still don't understand how he knew my contact number."
"There are several ways to get a hold of someone if you're smart enough." Nat pointed out. And if I knew Barney for anything, it was that he was intelligent.
"He wanted me to be there for her if anything happened to him." I said with slight realization.
"He knew you would take care of her." And I would. I had already had bad blood with one member of my family. I wasn't about to create more bad feelings with the one that was left.
"She's not a bad kid. Just...angry."
"Can't really blame her, given the circumstances."
"True." I said as I took a sip of tea. I almost spilled it because it burned my tongue. She smirked.
"Careful, it's hot." I glared at her.
"Thanks. I figured that out." I set down the cup before I managed to seer myself again.
"But she has a knack for basketball. Barney really taught her how to play."
"Is she fast?" I nodded.
"Very."
"I wonder if I could teach her a few moves..."
"No, Nat." I said sternly. I didn't mean to sound harsh. "I don't want her having any part in what we do."
"I meant some moves to enhance some basketball techniques."
"Can you do that?"
"Oh, I know plenty of moves."
"I doubt you know anything about basketball."
"I've seen enough. It's not that hard, really."
"Oh yeah? I'd like to see you join us."
"I think I'd like that. You'd get your butt kicked by me more than usual that way."
"Ha ha. Very funny." I braved another sip of tea. Nat and basketball? That would be a game I wouldn't want to miss.
Hannah's P.O.V.
I was going through yet another sleepless night. Dad's death plus the added secrets about his brother and their parents were mind boggling. My mind was too busy to rest.
"Why the secrets, Dad?" I asked the dark nothingness as I looked out the window. No answer. I harrumphed in frustration.
But I knew I needed to get some sleep. And the perfect way to do that was to play some music. I looked at the crack between the floor and the door. Lights were out. Perfect. I went out and took the guitar and sat on the fire escape. Once again, the song "Bruises" came up. It was a good song for the occasion. And for a moment, I realized that I wasn't as lonely as I thought I was. My uncle had lost just as much as I had. And felt just as alone. As I strummed away, I couldn't help but think someone was watching me. But every time I turned around, no one was there.
I don't know if you've noticed yet, but Hannah always calls Clint by 'uncle' or 'Uncle Clint,' yet Natasha never gets the title of 'aunt' and 'Aunt Natasha.' It's only because Hannah hasn't warmed up to her yet. But that's coming soon. As always, please review!