1989: a story of two misfit kids from mid-west america making it big in the big apple. and in the true sense of the american dream they find themselves in a life of sex, money, drugs, and a little rock n roll too.
warnings: adult content, mature rea...
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December 1992
Alma was changing Echo into a blue sweater set that had embroidered lambs on it while she waited for Ulyssa to come downstairs the next day. They were going out shopping and her daughter and Bill would stay home together. She was a bit nervous but she kept it to herself when she saw that Bill was much more nervous than she was. She assured him everything would be okay, that it was the same as any other day caring for her. It didn't seem to put him at ease though.
"Yeah but what if-"
"No, nothing will happen," she interrupted him. She didn't need him second-guessing his parenting, especially not now because she had been looking forward to shopping. She was tired of shopping at the thrift or department stores full of dowdy clothing in Seattle. She picked up Echo and kissed her head. "Tell Papa you won't give him any trouble today," she said in her ear. She smiled and reached out for him. "See. She'll be a good girl today."
He held her in his arms with a grin on his face and she rested her head on him. "She's always good. Okay... just us two then. Could you take a pager with you at least?"
They began walking out to the living room to meet Ulyssa but Bill stopped her and asked her to follow her into their room first. He walked over to the nightstand with Echo still in his arms and grabbed his wallet.
"I know you don't like me to open this when your friend's here," he smirked thinking Alma was silly for not liking him to flaunt their money when it was quite obvious they had the means. He took a wad of cash from inside and gave it to Alma. "Happy shopping."
"I have my own you know."
"Don't start a pissing contest, love." He said happily watching her put it in her purse anyway. "Find me something nice, too. Something, lace or sheer."
"I don't think the lingerie department has your size?" Alma joked.
Bill smirked and shook his head. "Can you just say thank you and kiss me now?"
...
Alone in the living room, Bill gazed at Echo asleep on his lap bundled in a blanket. He brushed her hair back and thought to himself. These past weeks she had been home with him and caring for her he couldn't help but wonder what his mother would think of him now. Compared to his awful carousing father she was a saint on earth. He couldn't remember much about her because she had passed away when he was only six years old but his remaining memories of her always felt warm. She would have been a terrific grandmother to Echo despite how he turned out. He might have even turned out better if she were still alive. He hated to think that in a lot of ways he was like his father but when it came to his daughter that was far from the truth.
Deep down it infuriated him because what his father put him through wasn't deserved like he thought so growing up. That maybe he was just a defective child. There were times in his adult life when he still felt like the kid who was locked in the basement cellar and had to sleep on the cold damp filthy ground because he had complained that he was hungry. Even the scar on his cheek he earned as a teen when his father threw a beer bottle at his head but it burst on the wall behind him when he ducked yet a piece of amber glass ricocheted cutting him. Who could berate and belittle and beat their flesh and blood in that way? He couldn't even fathom it. He had dwelled on what his father did to him and his brothers for far too long. Once Echo was in his life he tried to look in deeply for the memories of his mother instead. It was painful but necessary. It taught him more about himself, that he could be a father in the same way he was mothered.
