The Lovely Death of Nicole V.

JOLLY JOLLY

Once a young child, Nicole used to wake up all sunday mornings and run to the kitchen table. She would always forget to brush her teeth and before she reached the kitchen door, her mother would remind her of it. She would then rush to the bathroom, where she would not be able to enter because her bigger sister would not open the door.

Upset, she would kick the door and scream. In the kitchen, some misterious and marvelous meal was waiting for her and her cleansed teeth. It was not fair that she was now forbidden to reach it because of her sister's bathroom routine. Every sunday this happened and every sunday the same rescue came to her in a warm almighty voice:

"I happen to have a bathroom in my room", her father would say, "but spoiled little girls are not allowed there. If only I had a daughter who was both patient and smart, she could have breakfast before her sister."

"I'm patient and smart, daddy. Please, let me go, please.",  was her ever response.

"Smart people don't kick and patient people don't scream.", he said most of the times.

"What if I say I'm sorry?" she would reply in case he didn't laugh it off by then.

"That either means you're very polite or a good liar. And how would I tell the difference?"

"You made me. How wouldn't you tell the difference?"

This lovely sunday play out went on and on for years. The best years. Her mother all laugh and order. Her father all tough and good.Unforgettable. 

Nicole was eight years old when her parents separated. Her bigger sister was fifteen, and her little brother had been born for less than two weeks. William V. was once happily married to Anna V., until the day they weren't. It was nothing dramatic or mindblowing, though it was sad as it had to be.  

Her mother simply vanished. No letter left behind, no cell phone number to call, no direction or anything. It seemed unlikely, that much is true, but it happened anyway.She was there at night, and then wasn't there in the morning. William V. could have exploded, he actually should have, but he didn't. He did what a good man would do. He sat with his children, his two daughters in front of him and the baby on his lap, and said in an assertive and trustworthy voice:

"Looks like it's just us now. I'll do my best to keep it just like this. Just us, together.", and then he smiled, a deeply sad and yet, most definitely honest smile, the smile of a good man.

Somehow, he knew. Perhaps he had imagined Nicole's mother would go off one day, perhaps he thought it was for the best. Perhaps he had seen signs of her departure that no one else could see. Perhaps that was his gift as a good man, to see what not so good people couldn't. It actually didn't matter to Nicole. All that mattered was that he knew.

Despite Death's belief that no one could foretell the future, Nicole V. was certain her father could. If he somehow managed to be prepared for being abandoned by his wife, there was no way Nicole could prevent him from anything. No matter her efforts, he would still know, and he would still be prepared, maybe even before she was. After all, he made her. How wouldn't he know.

Still... he was such a good man. He didn't deserve to even think in what she needed to tell him. 

So that night, when she woke from her nap, Nicole did her own bathroom routine. One she had fabricated for herself and learned at her own command. 

She locked herself in the bathroom and put her head under the running water. Splah the face, wash the hair. Fresh showered faces were a disguise no one could see. She actively thought, I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna cry. Crying would  made the eyes puffy in a way that could not be reversed or explained. Crying was not a possibility.

She would then go to the mirror and give her cheeks small taps and pinches. Tap-tap-tap-pinh-tap-tap-tap-pinch. Not too much, not too agressive, just to get her cheek up and healthy. Just enough to look good. 

Then, for the hard part, she listened to herself.

"Hey, dad.", she said and disapproved. Starfish could speak more lively than that.

"Night, dad." No. It remained toneless and stupid. He would now. He would see.

Perhaps if she tried a bigger phrase.

"Hi dad, how was your day?". Nothing.

There was simply no reality in which she would march into the dining room and greet her father with that tone. There was no way, after all he had done, she would keep another weight at his shoulder. 

"Jolly Nicole. Jolly, jolly you are",  she said and the sorrow of a tear came to her eye, it was either deep sadness or rising rage, she didn't care "I'm not crying tonight. Jolly Nicole, Jolly, jolly you are." and she forced herself to smile, mouth wide open, teeth to the mirror, eyes big and out, like a cartoon "Jolly Nicole. Jolly, jolly you are. Jolly, jolly you are.", she jumped, jumped, jumped, jumped, getting the blood running sometimes could help, "Jolly. Jolly. Jolly Nicole. Happy and joyful Nicole". Don't jump too much, she thought, Don't lose your breath or he'll know, "Jolly. Jolly".

She stopped, and to the mirror she said:

"Hi dad, guess what, I got that essay back today. I got the highest grade in the class."

Yes. This was the voice of a good man's daughter.

Nicole then ran off dowstairs, to justify her lack of breath. Her father was by the stove and her brother was setting the table. 

"Dex, do you see it as well?" her father asked to the little boy. Dex was good like their father, but maybe he didn't get his foretelling powers just yet. He was easier to fool. "That's Sleeping Beauty coming to meet us." William V. smiled at her, while keeping an eye on the food by the frying pan, tonight they would eat something with a great amount of shrimps. Nicole loved shrimps. He did this thinking of her. Perhaps food would get her spirit up after all. "Don't you feel honored, son? Don't you feel important? I feel very important."

"Stop it.",  she said, trying to sound cutely embarassed, which was only hard because she really felt embarassed "So, dad, I got that essay..."

"Oh, love. I'm going to let you finish that in a second, but before that, taste this for me.", he picked up a small spoon and picked a few of the food by the pan. As he came closer, she understood the scent of the paella. 

Paella. Paella was also served at school earlier on a special culinary assingment. Paella was the same food that the foolish girls had thrown at her hair. Paella was a shred of her nightmare and paella was in her father's hand.

Paella tasted like defeat.

"You like it?" he asked "Not too spicy?"

"No." Jolly. Jolly. Smile. Jolly Nicole. "It's perfect."