9. Chest Pains
710 Words
Cissy was unusually restless. Being a child that could spend hours in front of the tv, coloring books or simply playing with her dolls, she just seemed to have too much pent-up energy. When she started to whine for absolutely no reason that she could think of, Summer decided to take her to the park and try to burn all of that energy.
When they were about to leave, however, her phone rang. Her house phone, which startled her. She hadn’t given her number to anyone she could think of, the cable service had included a landline and she just forgot about it up until now.
“Hello?”
“Summer Alexandra Belmont, finally!”
At the sound of her screeching mother, Summer cringed. Last time they spoke, there had been a lot of yelling. Enough for her to search a far away job, taking her child with her.
“Mother…”
“Don’t you mother me, how dare you not to call your mother? It’s not as if you have lots of them… Have you any idea of how worried we were?!”
“Somehow I doubt it. And now that you’ve listened for yourself how fine I am, is there anything I can do for you?”
“Do you know the length I had to go to find you?”
“No, but you’re about to tell me…”
“Aren’t you a funny girl, Summer Alexandra?”
“Is there a point to this phone call, mother?”
“Why is it that anytime I call you, you seem to believe I have something up my sleeve?”
“Because you usually do.”
“Your father is sick. He had a mild heart attack… not that you care…”
“What?”
Truly shocked, Summer was at a loss of words. Despite her recent problems with her parents, she loved them. She always had a special relation with her father, more so than with her mother. But the rift had only happened after Cissy’s birth and although it pained to say so, she knew she would do all over again.
“How is he?”
“If you truly wanted to know, you’d be on the first plane here.”
“Mother…”
“Yes, I know… you have responsibilities… it’s just your old father, anyway…”
Summer gritted her teeth. Leave it to Winter Belmont to bring all the drama into a phone call.
“In what hospital is he?”
“He isn’t, he’s home. Not that you care…”
“Can I speak with him?”
“He’s resting…”
“No I’m not, Winter…” said a stern voice and Summer realized her father had just picked up the other line. She was relieved to hear his voice so strong anyway.
“Father…”
“I’m fine, Summer. Your mother is just overeacting, as usual…”
“I’m not overeacting! Your doctor told you…”
“The stress gave me chest pains, nothing more… I’m perfectly fine… I’ll be up in no time…”
“Father…”
“You don’t need to came here, Summer, don’t listen to your mother.”
“Yes Collin, let her become even more detached than she already is…”
“And whose fault is it…?” asked Summer, suddenly tired of all of that manipulation.
“Blame it on your poor mother, why don’t you?” screeched Winter and she hang up. Summer felt more than heard her father sigh.
“You really should stop upsetting your mother like that, Summer…”
“Me? She’s the drama queen!”
“And here we go again… I think I’m having a migraine. Everything ok with you?”
Summer gritted her teeth again.
“Splendidly. And your granddaughter is fine, by the way, thanks for asking…”
“I didn’t. I have no granddaughter.”
The nerve! Summer hang up the phone without saying goodbye. To her, her parents could go to hell and take all the migraines and chest pains with them! How could they do that to her? To Cissy? Wasn’t the distance long enough for them to feel something, anything, other than contempt for the child born out of wedlock? Total indifference? Had they no heart for the little girl?
Stupid question. Of course not.
“Mommy?”
Cissy’s voice brought her out of her head and out of the past. Forcing a joyful smile she was far from feeling, Summer asked:
“Hey, squirt. Ready to go?”
“Are you sad, mommy?”
“Of course not. Ready?”
“I am…”
There was so much sadness in her little girl’s voice that Summer felt a pang in her chest. She picked up her world and kissed her in her tummy until she was giggling and struggling to break free.
“Can we have some ice cream?”
“Of course.”
“And pizza for dinner?”
“We’ll see…”
“Can we…”
“Let’s go, Cissy, otherwise we’ll spend the day here listening to your questions.”
“Good point. Love you, mommy.”
“Love you too, Cissy.”
- Writer
