Guns and Roses

Cry a river

Genevieve

I hated my parents. If they knew they wouldn’t last long together then why did they bother to get married in the first place.

But then that’s life right?

Unforeseeable, cryptic, unfair and a b***h.

The final divorce papers had just arrived and my mom didn’t even bother to check to see the contents. I’m guessing she already knew what was in it.

I stood a few steps from the stairs and watched her. She dropped it on the kitchen island like it was nothing.

This meant two things. I had to go live with my father down in a whole new different town. I didn’t love my dad more than my mom but I hated her new boyfriend more than I loved her. I couldn’t stand him.

He was younger than her (older than me and also aware that I was way younger than him) but he looked at me like I was a present he couldn’t wait to unwrap. I noticed and stayed far away from him. He gave me the creeps.

Our goodbye was short and makeshift smiles. She knew I was upset with her or maybe she guessed it but whatever it was she thinking about, she kept it to herself—Thank God.

“You be good to your pa, you got it”. She said as I entered the taxi was supposed to take me to the airport.

I nodded and faced forward. An indication that I didn’t want to speak with her anymore. She tapped the top of the car and the driver zoomed off.

I had never been to Willhound so I didn’t know what exactly to expect. Dad had moved there 4 years ago after he found out about my mom cheating on. She had fought for custody and won but then I said I didn’t want to stay with her anymore after her boyfriend moved in with us.

I remember being so angry that I skipped dinner. I hated him. If there was a word stronger than hate, feel free to interchange it because that was what I felt for him but I had still never acted it out towards him. Instead, I acted like he didn’t exist. I ignored his greetings, questions and life like a plague. I wanted nothing to do with him.

At 17, one would think I had grown a little bit mature but I was that petty. I didn’t even want him to think for a second that I liked him.

It was mean. And selfish but I couldn’t help it. I know it’s not his fault that my mom liked him enough to let him move in with her or that he was not good for her but she was too lonely to see it and then I’d have to blame my dad for letting her be lonely but then I knew he loved her. Poor ol’ dad. How heartbroken he must have been. I haven’t gotten my heartbroken by a lover yet so I could only imagine how he felt.

I remember walking into him on his knees and crouched forward in kitchen the day he asked for a divorce. I rushed to him thinking he was having a heart attack but it turned out that he was so heartbroken that his chest hurt so bad and he couldn’t help but cry.

He didn’t try to hide the tears when he saw me. Instead, he broke down more.

I had never seen a man cry like that before. Not in movies, not in books and most definitely not in real life.

He sobbed and shook as he hugged me.

I didn’t think men cried like that for anything and most especially not in front of their daughters and definitely not when they cops.

A lot of things were definitely wrong.

I ended up joining him to cry because I didn’t know what to say or do to console him.

“Oh dear Geni”. He had said. “I loved your mother”. He reiterated like I didn’t know that.

I also knew that if my mother just pleaded, my dad would forgive her. Yes, he loved her that much. But my mother was stubborn.

She blamed him for being negligent with her hence why she felt the need to find comfort somewhere.

I wasn’t being cheated on but I was angry.

How could she say that?

I loved my mom a lot and for a second, I couldn’t believe all the things she was saying about my Dad. He was a good father. And a good husband. He was away a lot but he always made up for it when he was around. Took both of on us dates together and then individually. I was young but I understand. It was his job and he loved it and most of all, it’s what brought food to the table and it was how he was able to afford everything he gave us despite how bad the economy was. There was never a week where he forgot to give me allowance. It increased by a hundred every 6 months. By the time I was 16, he was giving me 500 dollars almost every week. As a teenager with curious needs and an evolving girl, I was more than satisfied.

The plane landed and I made my way out of the crowd and found my Dad with flowers and a banner with my name boldly written on it.

I smiled and ran to him.

He took me in with both arms and hugged me. I giggled like a little girl.

“My Geni.” He said as a he looked at me like a fragile egg. “My love Geni”.

Oh poor dad.

I knew he was acting like that because I looked a lot like my mom and he was seeing her face in mine when they were younger.

He hugged me again and spinned me around. He hadn’t seen me in 8 months since his last visit, of course he was happy to see his baby girl again.

He put me down and handed me the flowers.

Tulips and dahlias.

“Aww thanks Dad. They’re so pretty”. I giggled

“Not prettier than my baby girl”. He said as he tapped my nose.

“C’mon let’s go get some food into that dummy of yours. I know you starving”.

“Yes, I am!” I cooed. “Daddy ‘dem airline meals be crazy. I don’t even know what they doin’ with all that butter. Can’t wait to get some real food.” I complained.

He looked at me with a wide smile as he pulled my suitcase along. “I bet you do”.

“Daddy, I wanna get ice cream first. It’s hot.” I demanded. Yes. I am very spoilt by my father.

“Whatever you want princess”.

We got ice cream a few blocks after the airport and my Dad took us back home.

Now one thing about my Dad was that he can cook. His meals were homely and amazing.

“I made soul food”. He said as he pulled my box into the house and headed to the kitchen.

“Hell yeah”.

I hurried to the dining table and watched him dish heavily stewed jollof rice, some barbecued beef, some Coleslaw into my plate.

He put them all separately but in the same plate just like I liked it.

“Thanks Dad”. I said as he dropped my plate on the table.

“You welcome baby.” He said as he opened the fridge. “Which you want”. He lifted two bottles of juice. One pineapple and the other guava. I chose the guava and he poured some into a glass for me as I tasted my soul food. Good lord. I missed this. I missed the food but most if all, I missed my Dad.