I made my way down to DSS and talked to my social worker. I told her everything and asked what I should do.
“Hmm well all I can think of is to go get your birth records down the hall, because you’ll need it for the office across the hall.” She pointed. “There you can tell them the information you know about him and if he is still located in the Oakland or Berkley area, they can tell you where he is.” I smiled and stood.
“Thank you so much!” She nodded.
“You’re welcome, and good luck!” I waved and stepped out. I went to the records office and got everything. Under father it said Henry Baker, then his signature. I rubbed over his and my mothers and nearly teared up. I made my way to the other office. I stood in line for about five minutes till it was my turn.
“Can I help you dear?” The lady asked.
“Uh yes I need to find a guy named Frank Wright. I was hoping you could tell me any information about his whereabouts.”
“Alright.” She looked to her computer and typed. “What’s his birth date?”
“um.. I’m not sure…” I started to count when mom was born then add the age difference. She stopped me in the middle of thinking.”
“Well I have two Frank Wrights here one is about 70 years old the other…. 35.”
“That has to be him! The second one of course.”
“Alright.” She printed out a page and looked at it. “Ok this is his last known address. It should still be the same unless he moved out of our district.” She circled an address, and handed me the paper.
“Thanks!” I grabbed it and put it under the paperclip with my records. I went straight home and searched online for the address. It looked like he was a good hour and a half away. I packed me a bag of a few outfits, just in case I decided to stay at a hotel to keep from driving back. I put my stuff in the car along with the directions and records. I put the picture that I had took from the photo album in front of my car gauges. I locked the house up and was on my way. I got ten minutes down the road when my phone rang. I hit the speaker button. “Hello?”
“Hey girl how are you?” It was my friend Beth.
“I’m.. coping I guess.”
“Yeah I heard about the whole thing at the funeral.”
“Yeah” I said in a sad voice.
“Don’t listen to those jealous bitches. Henry was and still is your father!”
“I know.” I sighed. “Guess what I’m doing.”
“What?”
“I’m going to my birth fathers as we speak.”
“No shit! How’d you find him?”
“Yeah, it was actually pretty easy. Don’t tell anyone though.”
“My lips are sealed. So whats his name?” I stopped at a red light and looked at the paper the lady gave me. “Frank Wright the third.”
“That sounds… kind of familiar. One second.” I heard some noise.
“What are you doing?”
“Googleing!” Of course. Beth Googled everything.
“OH MY GOD! I knew I heard that name!”
“Oh god he’s a serial killer isn’t he?” She laughed.
“No silly. TRE COOL!”
“What’s very cool? Beth I didn’t know you knew German.”
“No! I don’t, that’s what he goes by.” I scrunched my face.
“Why?” I said in a tone that was saying that I thought it was the most stupidest thing I had heard.
“Because… He’s the drummer of Green Day! Oh my god, now that I think about it… You look just like him!” I raised an eyebrow. “I Cant believe I’m friends with Tre Cools daughter! Ah.”
“Hey we don’t know that for sure! And what’s Green day?”
“They’re a band doofus!”
“Beth you know I don’t listen to crap music.”
“They are most certainly not crap.”
“Whatever.”
“Not everyone listens to classical music like you Tristy.”
“Well they should.. I’m getting on the interstate so bye I love you and I’ll call you later,”
“Take lots of pics! Especially of Billie! I love you Tristy Cool!”
“Oh dear god don’t call me that! And Billie?” I hissed.
“Sorry love, Yes he's the sexy lead singer, tall black hair’d green eye’d beauty! And Mike! Any way bye, be careful!”
“I will bye.” I hung up.
After a long drive I pulled into a small neighborhood with big houses. I looked at the directions and back to the road signs. I saw the street I needed to be at. I rode slowly looking at mailboxes for the house number I needed. I saw it and pulled into the driveway of a two story house. I gathered my papers and picture. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “alright Tristy you can do this.” I said trying to relieve nerves. I got out of the car, shut the door, took some more breaths and walked to the big front porch.
YOU ARE READING
Playing Dad
FanfictionTristy finds herself at her fathers funeral only to learn the man she new all along was not her birth father at all. Unfortunately her mother took any info to her grave. Low and behold she does learn of her biological dad and boy is she in for a rid...
