Zephyr's Promise

33

Nothing can calm me. Not the myriad of voices in this place during lunch hours. People watching typically serves as a weird way to self-soothe. Getting a glimpse into others' lives helps me escape my own morose one. Lately I have needed the break more often than not. Today the stakes are so high that not even my favorite hobby can bring me comfort.

The pear martini tastes nothing like I remember. Instead of being the sweet and smooth drink I remember it tastes bitter on my lips. Much like loathing rather than boosting me to the confident companion it inspired me to be.

Unfortunate. I could really, really use the boost right now. My father is in town and wants to meet. Seeing my father should not rack my nerves in this way. If anything I should be happy to see him. It has been months since I last spoke to him. Not just because of my adventures with Atlas either. Our relationship has always been complicated and well strained for a lack of better words. All these years I have accepted the blame he has never vocalized. Hidden within our silence and distance is the ugly truth. A secret so tragic that just whispering the words evokes pain. Deep down we both know I am the reason why mom left.

As I have reflected on my time with Atlas and the way our relationship I have realized that he may have broken my heart. Abandoned me to the wind with no protection. But he isn't the first. First there was my mother, then my father. While he stuck around longer I know he didn't really want to. The first opportunity to bolt he took it with no hesitation. Maybe it's because his passion was waiting for him. Honestly even when I try to reconcile that as the truth I know it's wrong.

"Babygirl." Cassius Hill approaches me. His bald head is still shiny and likely latheres with sunscreen.

Standing from my seat I let his long arms wrap around me. Annoyingly I find myself tearing up. Dammit I am so screwed up from my familial bullshit that a simple hug has me close to weeping.

Slipping out of his hold the two of us take our seats. When I look at my father, and I mean really look at him he seems different. Less haunted by ghosts. More at peace. The corners of my mouth tip down in disapproval. Here I am, his only child. His daughter and yet he knows nothing of my pain. Some girls tell their fathers everything. Their world is made bright and beautiful from the first man in their lives.

I was essentially kidnapped and he knew nothing of it. He didn't call the police because not hearing from me was strange. If I were murdered I doubt they could even use any of his recorded interviews because they would showcase nothing important about me. Simply because he and I don't know each other. Like my mother we are two people walking this earth with the same blood and nothing else in common.

That's why Atlas leaving felt worse than the others. No matter how it came to be, we had a real relationship. He saw the version of me that I kept locked away. My most authentic self. A person who could sprout random facts and provide sleuthing skills that Sherlock Holmes would admire. He came to know the parts I had surrendered to being lost forever. The squeals and smiles that I never thought would be set free. What we had couldn't be faked.

Dad prattles on about life overseas. His team has summer training but are on break for some cultural holiday. God he speaks about his team colors with more enthusiasm than he ever has me. My heart races with the implication. A pit in my stomach forms and I feel completely hopeless. Lost to where my place in life is. To who my village is supposed to be.

"Nile." Dad's hands sit professionally on top of the table. Barely any of our food has been consumed. Between his rambling and my nausea the food just sits there. "Crap." He mutters. My eyebrows furrow at his mumblings. Dad seems off balance, which is quite unusual for him. Growing up he was meticulous. Could have been a drill sergeant if he wanted. "A million times I have practiced what I would say. Sitting across from you now, face to face, the words are nowhere. So I'll just say them plainly. I have met someone and it's getting serious." My vision blurs. "Her name is Blithe and she has a six year old daughter." A daughter the same age I was when mom left. So this is the found family he is part of. The very reason why he cares nothing of hearing from me. This whole time he has been securing a second chance to be a father while leaving all of the guilt and shame to me. Every fucking day I carry this weight of breaking our family up. This right here confirms it. "Say something. Please."