Call Me Daddy

6

I woke up with a slight headache, hungover from last night. If anything was different this morning, it was the silence. I didn’t wake to a creaking sound, only the hum of a ceiling fan spinning above me.

The rest of last night passed swiftly. After I got out of the car, I walked to a motel, while he followed closely behind. Maybe he was actually decent after all.

I checked my phone to see ten missed calls from Maya and a dozen messages.

With a sigh, I flicked my fingers across the screen:

I’m sorry. Last night was a lot. I’ll tell you all about it later

I thought about breakfast but immediately decided against it. Besides, I almost emptied my account paying for this room last night. Eating out was something I couldn’t afford.

I slipped into my dress, now fully dried. “I’ll figure something out when I get home.”

I picked my clutch and slipped my phone into it, then looked around. Satisfied, I walked out of the room and closed the door behind me.

I got off a cab in front of my apartment and found a load of properties out on the curb— mostly clothes, shoes and books. I raised my brows in confusion first, then terror when I realized they were mine.

As if I needed more heat at the moment, the landlady yelled from above. “You had three months! Three months!

“I just need a little more time,” I cried.

“I’ve heard that line before. Take your things and get out. I already have new tenants.”

I rummaged through the pile for Mother’s necklace. It was a solitaire diamond from when dad was still with us. Although Mom no longer wore it, she always kept it safe. I looked around, panicking at the idea that it’d been stolen. Then I saw a black box peeking out from beneath a heap of clothes. I cleared the clothes and retrieved the box. Inside was the necklace, beautiful as ever. I slipped it into my pockets with a sigh of relief.

Not knowing what or where to go next, I sat on the curbs next to the pieces of my life strewn carelessly on the pavement. I took out the necklace and wore it around my neck, seeking comfort in the only thing that connected me with my mother.

All kinds of thoughts crossed my head. Motels were too expensive. Maya and her parents would let me stay at theirs but I couldn’t bother them. Besides, how long would it even last?

“Am I going to have to sleep on the streets,” I caught myself saying and tears rolled down my ears.

I sniffled, bottling up the hopelessness in my chest. It was especially hot but I was thankful it wasn’t raining instead. Cars drove by with the passengers expressing different emotions— some pity, some scorn and some disgust.

By now, it had been nearly five hours since I left the Motel. I was so absorbed in my misfortune that I didn’t realize when Mei, the elderly Asian in the neighbourhood approached me.

“Here child,” she said, handing me a twenty-dollar bill. “You’ll be able to think better when you’ve had something to eat.”

I raised my head to catch her soft eyes looking down on me. As the thought of a meal filled my mind, I felt a strange rush of gratitude and humiliation at once.

I swallowed. “Are you sure?”

“Take it,” she urged. “You need it more than I do right now.”

Hesitantly, I took the bill. “I-I don’t know how to thank you,” I said, my voice trembling.

“Don’t worry about it. Just get yourself something.”

I watched her walk down the street, her pace slow but steady. Then an idea struck me, one I didn’t like but had no other choice.

I dialed Marcus but it went to voicemail. I hung up, tried again and got the same result. On the third attempt, I gave in and left a message.

“I… I need… I need to take you up on that offer,” I said, voice breaking despite my attempt to sound calm. “Please call me.”

Two hours later, my phone buzzed with a text.

Took you long enough. I’m sending a car to you. Welcome home.

I clenched my jaw, regret already seeping in. “Forgive me, mom,” I whispered, under my breath. “I tried. I really did.”

In preparation for the ride, I packed what could fit into my luggage and the rest into a garbage bag I borrowed from a neighbour.

The landlady came out again, this time descending the steps. “You’re still here,” she sneered. “If you’re not gone by-”

“Don’t worry, Janet,” I cut in smoothly. “I’m getting out of your hair soon.”

Coincidentally, a black limo pulled at the curb at that moment. The driver got out, dressed in a black suit and white gloves. Without a word, he gathered my bags, loaded them into the trunk and opened the door with a slight bow. I had never seen her mouth drop like it did at that moment.

The drive was smooth and silent. I watched the suburbs disappear through the tinted window— the buildings, the convenience stores, the kids, even the homeless folks. Although I didn’t have the best life here, it held many memories for me. If I’d miss them however, was something I wasn’t sure of.

When we were completely out of the neighbourhood. I sent Maya a text:

Got evicted. I’m Moving it with Marcus. I really tried to do this alone.

I squeezed the phone, needing to feel something. A reply came almost instantly:

This doesn’t make you weak in anyway. You’re doing what you have to do. Whatever it is, I’ll always support you.

I smiled lightly and typed a response:

Thanks, Maya. I couldn’t ask for more. I’ll let you know when I get there.

A new neighbourhood was starting to take shape. Palm trees, Mansions, luxury cars, gated properties— a world I was totally new to.

Finally, we arrived at our destination. The gates swung open and we rode through a driveway that seemed endless. Five minutes had passed before we finally got to the house. The mansion before my eyes could not be termed as anything short of an architectural marvel. Yet it was dad’s smallest property, according to an article I had once read. The thought made me sink deeper into the seat.

The driver opened the door for me a second time. “We’re here, Miss Monroe.”