Father of the Bride

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Father of the Bride Page 3

by Jennifer Dione

He pulled me back down on the bed by my hand, I tried to stubbornly resist but he was stronger than me and I plopped down on the bed beside him swiftly and gently.

  “I haven't spoken to your aunt and I don’t think you're crazy. This is all new to me and I just want to know what your motives are. You don’t owe anyone an explanation as to why you want to find your father. You have a right to a relationship with him. If anyone tries to tell you differently I will personally put them up on game. OK?”

  I nodded.

  “So, have you reached out to him yet?”

  “No, I'm still trying to work up the nerve. As I was looking for him I just knew that the minute I had a name or number or address I would call him immediately, but when I did get his name and numbers it’s like I froze.”

  “Why.”

  “I just felt bad about going behind my family and friends, and your back about it.”

  “Baby I am your family, and I know that any family or friend that is worth having will support you %100. If they don’t, that's what you have me for.”

  I checked the clock and it was a little past 8 pm, “It’s too late to call him now.”

  He smirked at me.

  “What?” I said defensively, shying away from him and frowning.

  “It’s never too late.” He picked my phone up from the bed beside us and handed it to me.

  I unlocked it and scrolled again, like I had one hundred times since I programmed it in my phone, to the contact that read “Father of the Bride.’

  “I can go.” He said, watching me hesitate.

  “No. Stay right here.”

  “OK, just put it on speaker phone.” He winked at me.

  I tapped my finger on the screen where it said dial contact.

  The phone rang, once, twice, three times. It must have rung for a full minute and then the call went to voicemail.

  “Leave a message.” He mouthed to me.

  My eyes got wide and I shook my head no.

  He nodded his head yes quickly and pushed the phone up closer to my face.

  “Leave a message.” He said in a loud whisper.

  “OK!” There was a beep, and I was silent for about 5 seconds.

  “Hi, this is Nayely Moore. My mother is Nadia Moore. I think you're my father. OK, bye.” I ended the call.

  He leaned closer to me to get a better look at the phone. He pointed to where I had another number saved.

  “Call it.”

  “Oh my God, baby, I already left a message on the other number, I’ll look desperate.”

  “Aren't you?”

  I cut my eyes at him, now he was being a little too supportive. Suddenly I wished I had never told anyone about this. I tapped on the screen and the ringing came through the speaker phone. This time the phone only rang twice and a loud dial tone filled my room, followed by the words, ‘The number you have dialed is disconnected, if you feel you have reached this message on error, please hang up and try-’ I hung up.

  He leaned in this time to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. “See, simple, now you just wait for a call back.”

  “What if he doesn’t call back?”

  “Then you call him again.”

  “What if he doesn't call back because he doesn’t want anything to do with me?”

  “You’ll never know until you talk to him.”

  “I don’t want to be bug-a-boo.”

  “Baby, you’re going to have to be a lot braver if you plan on going through with this.”

  “I do plan on going through with this.”

  “Then stopped being scared to be rejected by a man you don’t even know.” He stood up from the bed and started to walk out of the door.

  His words burned because they were true. The fact that I didn’t know my own father hurt. The thought that the man who gave me life could reject me hurt. Omar saw it in my eyes. He came back over to me, pulled me up to him and kissed me gently on the forehead. His arms wrapped around my shoulders, mine around his back.

  “I’m sorry, I can definitely understand how this can be scary, all I’m saying is that you are going to have to get over that if you do plan to go through with this, this is the easy part. Finding his information was easy. It took you months, emotionally it was easy. Calling him on the phone is easy, talking to him meeting him, I’m sure all of that will be awkward at first but with, emotionally, it won’t be that hard. The hard part is going to be asking this man, who you just met, who may be just finding out that he has a daughter as intelligent, beautiful, and amazing as you, to turn around and hand you off to another man so soon. That will be the hard part. So, get tough baby girl.”

  I nodded, trying not to let the tears that had rose in eyes pour out.

  “Now come on girl, let’s go wash these dishes.”

  Chapter 3

  The next day I slugged through work even more so than I usually did. It was something about the office atmosphere that drains all my energy. The artificial light, the freezing air conditioning, the constant drone of voices. Today the day seemed to drag by more sluggishly than usual as I checked my phone every thirty minutes for a text or call from ‘Father of the Bride’. Lunch time came and still nothing. I thought sadly about the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I fixed for myself for lunch and tried to decide if I even felt like getting up just to make it to the lunch room to try to sit down and eat my pitiful lunch in peace only to have that one annoying co-worker hover over me and ask ‘What are you eating? Is that a penny butter and jelly sandwich?’. I decided to stay at my desk, eat the candy I had stored at my drawer, and avoid any annoying social encounters. I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket. I jumped to answer as fast as I could, only go see ‘Omar’ sliding across the screen.

  “Hey.” I said dryly into the phone.

  “I know for once I’m not the one you want to hear from but I want to take you to lunch, I saw that sad ass sandwich you made this morning.” He laughed at me.

  I instantly perked up at the idea of not having to choose between eating my ‘sad ass’ sandwich and starving at my desk.

  “Where are you.”

  “Right here.” I heard his voice echo in the phone and I knew that he was close.

  I looked up and there he was wearing his signature big beautiful smile and holding brown teddy bear as big as me & and a vase full of the biggest sunflowers I've ever seen.

  He came over to my desk and sat the bear down, knocking some papers, a couple pens, and my stapler off the desk. He handed me my flowers.

  I would've blushed if my skin wasn't so rich in melanin.

  “How the hell did you get that big ass bear in here?” I looked around, most of my coworkers were gone for lunch.

  “It was awkward in the elevator, this lady thought I touched her butt, it was him, he’s a savage.”

  I kissed him on the cheek, “Let’s go eat.”

  I CONVINCED OMAR TO go to a vegan Mexican restaurant that Mya and I went to every now and then. I ordered enchiladas and he got a burrito wondering out loud exactly how Mexican & vegan went together. I ignored him.

  “So, judging from your mood you haven't gotten a call.” He gave me his pity face.

  “If I get a call, you will be the first to know.” I said brushing the subject off.

  “Have you talked to Mya?”

  “Nope. Have you heard from Mya?”

  “Now you know, ever since we were kids anytime you and Mya fight I become her favorite again.” He grinned at me, teasing.

  I rolled my eyes, “Whatever Omar.”

  His grin fell from his face almost instantly. “Don't call me Omar, my name is baby, or honey to you.”

  I tried not to laugh knowing he was serious. “What did Mya want?” I asked.

  “She just wanted some updates and to make sure that the dishes had been done.”

  “If they hadn't been what was she going to do, break in and wash them?”

  “Yeah, I mean, you do know her, come on.”

  “You're right, she is k
ind of mental when it comes to shit like that.”

  “She wanted me to check on you too. I told her I already knew about the ‘Dad-thing’ and that you reached out to him with no luck.”

  “You don’t have to report everything about my life to her, if she was concerned she would have just call.”

  “She said she did, but you have her number blocked. Why is that?”

  “Because I don’t want to speak to her.”

  “I see nothing has changed since our childhood, whenever you two are upset with each other, you refuse to speak and I am forced to be a mediator and messenger.” “You don’t have to be you choose to be.”

  “Yes, because I know you guys love each other and you’ll always make up, it just takes me to relay the messages of apology between you two.”

  “Of course we will, eventually.”

  “How soon is eventually.”

  “Well this time honestly I don’t know, I mean, she did leave without washing dishes.”

  We gave each other knowing smiles. The waiter walked up with our dishes and I could tell by his face as he sat our plates down that he was wondering why we were being so weird and sitting there with creepy smiles on our faces.

  The smell on the vegan enchiladas wafted into my nose. My smile faded and I practically started to drool. The waiter asked us if we needed anything else and I wanted to tell him to just leave us alone so that I could dig into my food as sloppily as I pleased.

  “No, thank you.” He responded as I proceeded to pick up my fork and knife.

  I took my first bite as the waiter took the first step away from our table. He was a little more hesitant to eat his nachos. I dug in ignoring his ignorance. After he finally did take a bite he didn't hesitate to take the next one.

  “Not bad.” He admitted threw a mouthful of nachos.

  I nodded in a ‘I told you so manner’ and he made a face like ‘yeah whatever’.

  Just as I was about to start on my second enchilada my phone rang, I was so wrapped up in my food I didn't even check who it was. Instead I just lifted it to my ear.

  “This is Nayely.”

  There was a pause and I pulled the phone from my face to see if the caller had hung up. That's when I saw the name ‘Father of the bride.’ I put the phone on speaker and said hello again.

  This time a voice with a thick southern accent replied. ‘Hello Nayely, this is Raymond.’

  It was my time to pause, he had called back, I looked at Omar and made a face as if to say, ‘What the hell do I do?’

  “Say, hello.” He whispered.

  ‘I already said hello.’ I thought to myself as I rolled my eyes at him.

  “Hi Raymond.”

  “Wow. You sound just like your mother.” He chuckled.

  “Do you do know my mother?”

  “Of course, I know your mother, I loved your mother. That’s how you got here right?”

  “Sure.” I said sheepishly.

  “How is your mother?”

  Omar’s mouth dropped as I sat there with no idea what to say.

  “Raymond, I'm really happy you called back. I'm on an hour lunch from work and I have about 15 minutes to get back to my office but I would love to meet in person.”

  “Of course, are you anywhere near Mississippi?”

  “Um, no I live in New York.”

  “Oh ok, city girl, just like your momma.”

  All the talk about my mother from a stranger was really making me uncomfortable.

  “I’ll check flights as soon as we get off the phone. I’ll be there to meet you as soon as possible.”

  “OK, sounds good. I have to go.”

  “One more thing,” He said just as I was about to end the call, “I'm really happy you called.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  I THOUGHT THE CALL from my father was what I was waiting for to be in a better mood for the day, but somehow the call had made it worse. I went from angry and irritated, to sad and confused. The way he talked to me I assumed that he knew I existed, he didn’t seem like he was surprised to hear from me or surprised that he had a daughter at all. The way he talked about my mother made me assume that he actually had a real relationship with her and had actually cared about her, in his own words, he had loved her. The way my aunt described his actions said the exact opposite. If he really loved her he would have been in my life, her child, his child. Their love child. I had so many questions and I didn’t know when I would be able to have them answered. The only thing that I could think to do was what I always did when I was confused, felt alone, didn't know what to do. Call Aunt Yaya. She always had an answer even if I didn't like the answer that she had for me. I braced myself for whatever her opinion might be on this matter, put away my pride, and called her number.

  She picked up on the first ring, “Hey Yely! I miss you, you didn’t call me yesterday. I was starting to worry about you.”

  “Auntie you saw me yesterday, remember, you went to the fitting with me, we had lunch, and an uncomfortable conversation.”

  “Right, I know, but I was still expecting to hear from you before now. How are you baby? You sound down.”

  She always knew, she only had to hear me speak, even if the words I were saying were perfectly happy and positive if there was something deeper on my mind she could always see past any fronts I tried to put up.

  “I spoke to him.”

  There was a short pause, maybe I had thrown it at her too fast but I really was in no mood to dance around the subject and warm her up to it. I just wanted to get it out as quickly and simply as possible. After I said the words, I collapsed on my back onto my bed, one arm holding my phone to my ear and the other arm stretched out across my sheets. I didn’t speak until she did, I gave her time to process her thoughts, think about her reply, and consider my feelings before she did reply.

  “You did?”

  ‘Is that the best you can do?’ I thought.

  “I did.” I said flatly, hoping that I could force her to come up with something more original and honest.

  “I’m glad you spoke with him.” She said softly and slowly as if she had rehearsed the line over and over but still was extremely nervous delivering it.

  This didn't sound like my auntie at all. I stayed silent as I twisted up my lips knowing that I was safe and she couldn't see the expression on my face that said I thought the statement that just came out of her mouth was a lie. I waited for her to add something to the false statement but she didn’t.

  “Really?” I said with just enough attitude for her to recognize I was on to her but not enough for her to call me out on calling her out.

  “Yes, I just want to say that I have been thinking and I really think that it is good for you that you are doing this. Even if I think that the timing is a little inconvenient and just in general not good. You don’t owe me an explanation for what you are doing. He is your father and you do have a right to have a relationship with him-”

  “OK, you can stop Auntie. Have you talked to my fiancé lately or are all of these things you’re saying to me your thoughts and yours alone?”

  “Yes, I spoke to him.”

  “I am so tired of all of you all talking to each other about this and not talking to me. I’m starting to wish I hadn't told anyone and just went through this alone.”

  “Yely, you know I would have found out anyway and I never want you to feel like you have to go through anything alone, we all love you so much, Omar, Mya and I. Anything we do or say is only to make things better for you, OK?”

  “I know but it’s like this has taken over my life, and the relationships I have with the three closest people to me. I hate that, I wish I could take it back.”

  “No baby, don’t wish that. I’m happy that you told me I just wish you told me when you made the decision to set out to find him. That way I would’ve had about nine months to warm up to the idea of you looking for him and the possibility of you finding him. You know?” She ended her statement softly but she
got her point across plain and clear.

  “I get it.”

  “So, you said you spoke with him, what happened?”

  “I was almost finish with my lunch when he called. Did you know that he doesn't know my mom is dead?”

  “What.” She pronounced the ‘T’ hard and deliberately her mouth sounded extremely close to the phone.

  “He asked how she was doing.”

  “Wow.”

  “So, he didn’t know she died, that's why he wasn't at her funeral, and if he didn’t know she died I’m pretty sure he didn't know that she was pregnant with me. When he called me back he didn't sound shocked or confused. He spoke about my mom like he knew her, he said he loved her.”

  “He loved her but he apparently didn't know that she was pregnant and still doesn't know that she is dead.”

  “I’m so confused auntie, it’s like he was perfectly cool, calm, and collected over the phone. When I told him that I wanted to meet him in person he said that he would start looking up flights as soon as we got off the phone.”

  “He is coming here?” She sounded shocked.

  “Yeah, it looks like it.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Mississippi.”

  “Are you sure you found the right guy?”

  “I mean, not really.”

  “The first thing you two should do when he gets here is get a DNA test. & don’t even talk to him until you get the results.”

  “I guess that's a good idea, if he even comes, for some reason I don’t believe him.”

  “Already? Wow.”

  “Auntie he could actually be a good guy.”

  “Yeah right.”

  “Auntie don’t be mean.”

  “OK, OK. I honestly can’t wait to meet this guy I have so many questions I want to ask him.”

  “Auntie you’re not allowed to speak to him either until the results of the DNA test come back.”

  “That's fair, how long do they take?”

  “Oh, now you want to know how long they take, all of a sudden.” I laughed at her sudden eagerness.

  “You better tell me as soon as they are back, don’t try to hide him from me.”

  “I won't Auntie-” My phone cut me off, another call was beeping in my ear. I pulled the phone away from my ear & glanced at it.

 

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