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47: Bridge at the Park

Emma

The last place I wanted to run to was the junkyard or the racecar. I wanted to run where nobody could find me. With all my might, my feet hustled several blocks and made their way to the park. There I found myself sitting on a small bridge that hovered over a small stream of water. For the next several hours, I just sat there and cried.

Ducks would often make their way toward me. At one point, A mother duck was spotted with her children following her. It was a beautiful sight. That duck must make one heck of a mother. Was there a father involved with those young ducklings? Do father ducks even stick around after the mom gives birth? Why couldn't they teach that in school?

"Thought I might find you here." Right before me was none other than my future daughter Melissa. She found a seat right next to me and shared some bread with the ducks.

"How'd you find me here?"

"We used to come to this park all the time growing up. Daddy loved to come here and play with us. We would always feed the ducks when we came."

"This park? What's so special about this park?"

"Well, I guess our daddy has always told us that this bridge is the bridge he proposed to you. It was the bridge where you went on your first date. You guys went fishing and literally caught nothing."

I'm not sure why, but the idea of going fishing here caused me to chuckle. It sounded like a stupid yet sweet date. Jeremy would never take a girl here on a date. Who was this mystery man?  Would he be anything like my daddy? Would he make a good husband and good father like my own daddy was?

"I can't imagine myself actually getting married and having children," I claimed. "Life is just so confusing right now. How could anyone be interested in me?"

With a pat on the back, my daughter began rubbing my shoulder which felt nice. Could she keep doing this forever? My muscles didn't know they needed it, but it was certainly needed.

"Yeah, I understand why life seems confusing right now. I wish I could've met grandpa. All the stories you told us. It makes me wish he were still alive today."

My head began to spin. "How often do I tell stories about him?"

Melissa chuckled at the question. "Every freakin' night. No joke, you would tuck us into bed every night and tell a really long and personal story about grandpa. Sometimes you even tear up. And dad would always tell us how much you would talk about grandpa on your dates. Hell, dad would always talk about how he lost some of his family. It seems like you guys really bonded over that."

My heart felt warm with the fact that my memory never stopped thinking about my own daddy. It was nice to know that I would be able to share that memory with my own man and children. Maybe I could slowly start looking to the future. Maybe. One step at a time. And hopefully, we could eventually move out of this waste of a town as well.  

"So, tell me, do I make a good mother?" Everything in me was hoping she would say yes.

Putting an end to the shoulder rubbing, she placed her head against it and didn't say anything for about thirty seconds. This moment kind of worried me. Why wasn't she answering my question?

"You make an amazing mother. You guys are legit the best parents anyone could ask for. But it's me who makes a pretty crappy daughter. Seriously, I don't want to scare you, but once I reach my teen years, I become pretty rebellious. Things in my own life become really confusing. I don't want to scare you again, but I end up doing some drugs and a little bit of underage drinking. I even spend a night in jail. If you can believe it, Marvin was the one who bailed me out."

"It doesn't sound like I'm that great of a mother if I can't raise you right." Crap. Was there anything I could do right now to get her life turned around? Was it possible?

"No, are you kidding me? You guys are literally on point with your parenting. Hell, you should see yourself in the future. You're a fierce and hardworking woman. You'd be proud of yourself if you could see how amazing you turn out to be."

There was that word again. "Proud." First, my own daddy uses that word and now my own daughter. Apparently, I'm a great woman. But why should I be proud in the first place?

"What exactly are some of the things I do that are so amazing?"

"Well, when I was five, I ended up in the hospital for about a week. I'm not sure what was wrong with me, but you were literally there by my side every day. Seriously, you took off from work and sat with me in that hospital room. You held my hand and sang to me. You even promised that once I got out, we could have a little mother-daughter dance. And we did. We danced under the stars and the moonlight at this abandoned restaurant."

My throat became hard with that memory of hers. Crap, I actually danced with her at an abandoned restaurant? Seriously, was I recreating the memory I had with my own daddy? Maybe some of his parenting was rubbing off on me. At this point, I didn't want to hear more of her memories. It seemed like a better idea to wait for the future to see what would happen. Maybe by doing that, those memories would feel more special.

"Well, I'm glad I'm able to be a good mother to you. Who knew I had such a good heart?

"Me too. You know it's getting pretty late and I'm pretty sure the park is about to close. We probably should get out of here. Wouldn't want my rebelliousness to rub off on you."

"No, I guess not." Who knew my daughter could have such a sense of humor?

That was a sweet chapter. Hope your heart melted. Be sure to comment and vote! Thanks for your support.

Any thoughts on who Emma ends up with?