I listened to the activity going on downstairs. All Bridget did was whine, cry, and apologize. This woman who was my mother ranted on about how terrible her life has been for the last ten years. I waited on my dad to throw her out. And tell her it was too late to be here. Tell her that she needed to move on like she did before. But it never came. As soon as I heard the words she can stay, I stop listening.
I stomped back to my room and slammed the door causing my dresser to shake. Burying my head into the pillow, I sobbed into my pillow. My home life turned itself upside down. Of course my dad had soft spot for my mom. Of course he still loved her. The damage she caused wasn't one to be forgiven so easily. She had no chance to repair any relationship.
"Miesha?" My dad knocked on the door.
My head popped up from my wet pillow. I hurried and pulled some tissue from the box on my night stand and patted my face dry.
"Yeah daddy."
He opened the door and dragged my desk chair to the side of my bed. I sat upright in my bed waiting on him to say the words I already knew.
He looked at the carpet first. Then he focused his eyes on me. I can see the stress and worry in them.
My dad sat up and wiped away those emotions quickly. He took on his firm posture.
He blew out a breath."I'm letting her stay here," he announced. "So you can't be talking to your mother like that."
"Why?"
"She doesn't have any place else to go."
"She can be on the streets for all I care."
"That is your mom."
"Bridget is not my mom. She is just like all the other women."
"I understand how you feel. But she is still the woman that birthed you into this world. That's what makes her different."
"What's the point in bringing a child into the world if you leave her?"
There was no immediate response. He hunched over in the chair. I may have been pushing his limits. Usually, I would stop. But this was an exception.
My dad played with sleeves of his shirt. "She was absent for a very long time. However, she is an adult."
"I thought respect had to be earned."
He disapproved shaking his head. "She deserves some form of respect from her daughter."
That statement was invalid. She deserved zero respect for me. Bridget did us wrong. Anyone's respect decreases when they do me wrong. I understood that people made mistakes, but this was a mistake that she regretted for the wrong reasons. Her apologies were not sincere. I read right through her. If she meant it, she would not have brought her contract up as a reason to come here. She would have made more of an effort to call when she was away. She should have never went to Paris altogether.
"Okay. I will respect her," I lied. There was no way she will get any out of me. As far as I know, she is a brick wall.
"She does plan on getting her own place."
"She is just using you daddy."
"I can't let her be homeless."
"Oh so I guess she burned through all of her modeling money."
"Miesha," my dad warned.
"Okay. What about Jasmine?"
"What do you mean? We aren't together."
"What if she pops up here?"
"I'll handle it. Now I'm going to go help Bridget unpack and settle in her room."
Since it was late at night and my dad was occupied with Bridget, I stayed upstairs in my room. It was good that my dad offered her the extra room downstairs. I didn't want her invading my space and didn't want to share my bathroom either.
My dad woke up earlier than me. When I finished preparing for my morning jog, he was in the living room. Once again, I caught him looking at that same photo album when he thought of my mom. There was a coffee sitting on the end table.
"Hey daddy. Are you okay?"
He sipped his coffee. "Yeah."
My morning jog could wait, so I sat next to him. I hadn't look at the photo album in years. It reminded of our broken family.
But this time I did. As my dad turned the pages, the memories from those photos saddened me. It was from when my mom was pregnant to holidays and trips. We looked so happy then.
"Do you see this?" I asked him.
"This was a really great time of our lives."
I heard the sadness in his voice. So much happened to him. My dad needed to take care of himself. Too much pressure can crack him. He had enough cracks. Nothing around him patched him up. Facing as many challenges as he had can weaken the mind of anyone. I hoped my dad could keep a healthy state of mind.
"Daddy. I want you to be okay."
He grabbed my hand and gave it a light squeeze. His decisions were irrational, but I still respected my dad. He was a peaceful person. People kept tossing him in predicaments that he did his best to control. At some point, I knew he would explode.
He shut the photo album. "I will be fine. Now go on your jog. I'll have breakfast prepared when you get back."
He took another sip of his coffee and disappeared in the kitchen.
Knowing that information, I went on ahead and jogged around my neighborhood. My dad hardly cooked breakfast on a weekend, but I knew it was because of Bridget. He wanted her to feel comfortable while she was there.
I heard them in the kitchen when I came back. I dropped off my things in my room before going back downstairs. My dad and Bridget talked as if they had been good friends. It disgusted me. When I came into the kitchen, their chatter died down. Their silence didn't distract me. I moved around the kitchen like it was normal even though there was one extra person filling my home now. Their eyes burned a hole in my back cause they were staring at me when I sat down. I said nothing and ate.
"Miesha," Bridget called me.
I acted like I didn't hear her and chewed on my food. I dug into my plate like no one or nothing could get my attention. She called me again. I bobbed my head to a tune in my mind. It was almost funny.
She finally gave up after her last try. I knew my dad was throwing glares my way. But I avoided it. He was most likely upset. I wasn't giving in to her.
After breakfast, I cleaned my plate and hid upstairs for hours until dinner. I busied myself with dusting, sanitizing, and vacuuming everything upstairs. This was my way of escaping.
The awkwardness continued during dinner. My dad couldn't take it anymore. Surprisingly, he didn't explode on me. He just attempted to include me in their conversation. I gave him one worded answers. If Bridget spoke, I didn't give her any response. All they did was talk about her. I didn't care much about it. He finally excluded me from their conversation.
I wanted to be there for my dad. But a growing frustration built up for him. He made seem that we were a happy family again. Bridget left a permanent dent in it. She can never fix that. This wasn't some welcome home celebration. She earned all the treatment I will give her.
School was the next day. All I had to do was sit through another breakfast, I can be away from her. The energy floating around here became different. I didn't like it.
I had to tell my best friend Ranea what happened. She understood more than my dad. Her dad left her at a young age too. It created a resentment from her. She expressed that she would never let him back in her life. I didn't fault her for it. I said the same about Bridget. Our parents made a choice to bring us here. As children, these are the first people we look up to for guidance and support. Her dad and my mom showed none of that. They left us and made us feel unwanted. I hoped that my dad realizes that and cut off the kindness.
YOU ARE READING
Unbelievable
Подростковая литератураNote: This is Part 2 to the my other story Who Knew Miesha West is back with more drama. With the shocking event of her mother coming back after ten years, Miesha wants nothing to do with her. Her mom wants to build a relationship, but she believes...