Complete Chaos

015

Steve left that Friday afternoon with not only his stomach full, but his heart too.

He was going to be a dad; he couldn't wrap his head around it. It didn't feel real; Julia wasn't showing yet.

Before he left her house, they talked about going to the doctor and getting an ultrasound to check how the baby was doing. They were going to do it after school on Monday since they were closed on the weekend.

Once they said their goodbyes and Steve drove away, Julia was left alone. The atmosphere changed without Steve's presence; it felt cold and empty.

The food was read for when her father arrived later in the day she decided to go to her room.

She picked up a few things from the floor of her room, but her body was giving up, and her battery had run out after talking to Steve. She lay in bed, her eyes slowly closing, it was no use fighting it, and she quickly fell asleep.

Julia was able to sleep for a couple of hours, and she would have continued to sleep if it weren't for her father yelling at her from the kitchen.

She quickly got up from her bed, feeling light-headed as she did. With her hand on the wall she stabilized herself.

As she made her way to the kitchen, she started to think what she could have done wrong.

She cooked his favorite meal. Steve had eaten the burn bread rolls, so that couldn't be it. Maybe it was the laundry, he liked to have his clothes nicely folded on his bed, or did she leave a mess in the kitchen.

While her mind was continuing to think of all the mistakes she could possibly have made, her father stood in the living room, his right hand lazily holding a bottle of tequila.

That was not a good sign; she didn't walk any closer wanting to stay a safe distance from her father in case he lashed out. It wouldn't be safe for the baby as an instinct; she rested her hands on her stomach as a barrier.

His steps were wobbly as he walked closer to her. She took a step back "come here, Julia," he spat.

She took the tiniest step closer to her father. He was just arms reach from her, and with his left hand, he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her closer to him.

"Tell me why the neighbor saw a boy come out of the house while you were home alone."

Her father was friends with a few of the neighbors who enjoyed drinking a little too much, not caring if it was too early or if they had work the next day. One of them must have opened their big mouth while they were having a few beers.

His hot breath with the smell of tequila hit her face as his words left his mouth. She closed her eyes as she gagged "answer me," he yelled, pulling her hair harder.

She opened her eyes carefully, a single tear rolling down her face. Her father was too close to her; she could see the anger all over his face. "He's just a friend," she whispered, looking everywhere but him.

"Do you think I'm stupid, Julia? I was not born yesterday."

She placed one of her hands on his chest, trying to push away; it gave her deja vu. She was in a similar position with Billy not too long ago.

"Dad, you're hurting me," she said softly, as tears started running down both sides of her face.

"Who is he, Julia," he said her name as if it was venom.

"Someone from school. He was here because..."

This was the worst possible time to tell her father he was going to be a grandfather, but she knew he wouldn't drop the subject until he got all the information necessary. The naïve part of her saw good in her father and thought that if she shared with him the news that she was pregnant he wouldn't hurt her badly.

She looked at him straight in his ocean blue eyes and said, "I'm pregnant, and he's the father."

He had a similar reaction to when she told Steve he froze, but it only lasted a few seconds. He held her long hair tighter, his eyebrows furrowed in anger.

"You are just like your mother," he said angrily, throwing her back.

Julia hit her head and back on the wall. She placed her hand on the back of her head, checking if there was no blood.

"While I'm out there working," he pointed out the door, still holding the bottle of tequila, "you're throwing yourself to any man that walks your way, huh."

She shook her head lightly, feeling light-headed as she did "that's not true."

He pinched the bridge of his nose "you're a disgrace," he yelled. "I don't want you in my house. I don't want to even look at you," he said, blocking his view from her with his right hand.

"I hope that bastard of yours dies. And if that boy knows what's good for him, he will run away and leave you out in the streets like I should have done with your mother. She ruined my life, you! Ruin my life."

Her lips quivered, and more tears ran down her face. She knew her father was not the best man, but she still had hoped that he could change that he could show some type of kindness toward his own daughter.

She hated to admit how much pain his words caused her. He was not made to be a father time and time again, he had proved that.

She was devastated by the way her father talked about her mother, but this was the last time she was going to see him ever again; she would make sure of it.

"You're a horrible person," she said, loudly with some much pain in her voice.

Without waiting for him to respond, she went to her room and started packing as quickly as she could.

Loud and angry footsteps were approaching her room. Her head was starting to hurt but she didn't have time to stop and whine.

"What do you think you're doing?" her father walked into her room, his steps becoming sloppier. "I'm packing that way; you won't see me ever again," she said without looking at him.

She opened her drawer and got out all the clothes she could get with her two hands. "I pay for all of that. You know it's not yours. You can't take it."

She ignored him and continued to pack, "Julia, listen to me," he shouted, growing annoyed with her. He was used to her listening to all his commands on the first try, but now he felt like he was talking to a wall.

She closed her bag and took her old baby blanket her mother had knitted for her. She was not going to leave it here with this man.

He stood in front of her blocking her way out. "I'm done listening to you," she said firmly. It was the first time she was putting her foot down; she was standing up for herself. He had controlled enough things in her life. She wasn't going to let him control her every move anymore.

He held her wrist tightly before she walked around him. "You will regret this, Julia. How are you going to do it out in the world without a roof under your head, no food on your plate?"

She had no clue, but anything was better than staying another day with him.  "I'll find a way," she said, sounding unsure.

She pulled her arm back, the power he had over her slipped away.

Geoffrey Wallace was not sad his daughter was leaving or worried about how she was going to survive; he was sad his maid left because that is what Julia was for him.

In frustration, he threw the half-empty bottle to the wall.

Julia pedaled down the street, the cold December afternoon air hit her face drying her tears in the process.

She didn't know where she was going; her feet had a mind of their own as they continued to move. After pedaling for a while, the streets started to look familiar. Getting closer to the big house, she knew she was going to regret it.

She knocked on the door shivering on the spot. After a few seconds of no one answering, she thought no one was home, and she was getting ready to leave.

The door opened, her back now facing the door.

"Julia," a half-asleep Steve responded.