Thorns On My Rose: A Story of the Daughter of Robert Downey Jr. (EDITING)

Chapter 13 - Part 2 - The Talk

Robert's Perspective

I frowned, glancing behind me at a confused Alex. I gave him a quick reassuring look before coming out into the hallway and closing the door. Indio was giving me a hateful glare. I bit my lip. Shit. Here we go.

"Hey." I said casually. Indio dropped his suitcase with a loud thump and rolled his eyes.

"I'm in India for three and a half months then I decided to come home early, only stop in London for the next flight and I see you and fucking Susan all over the damn news?"

I blinked. "Yeah, uh, how was India? I've never been before, always wanted to go."

Indio 's jaw tightened and I sighed. "You could at least say 'Sup, Dad, how are you?'" I said. Indio crossed his arms.

"When we're you gonna tell me that I had a LITTLE SISTER??!!" He whisper-yelled. I rubbed my jaw nervously, humming.

"Well, it was gonna be somewhere after 'the talk', but I never got around to it..." I said, ignoring Indio' s fiery glare.

"Dad."

I straightened, snatching off my cap. "Alright, damn it. I'm sorry, alright?" I said, putting my hands up in surrender. Indio ran a hand through his hair.

“I effed up, and I'm sorry."

"No, no. Sorry is 'I accidentally wrecked your train set'. This... this is fucking insane." He closed his eyes, pinching his nose. "You do realize how insane this is, don't you?"

I started to wring my cap in my hands. "Yes."

"This is not good. The press are gonna be all over your ass, my ass, Susan's ass. Maybe even Mom's ass."

"I know." I growled, my jaw starting to clench up.

Indio opened his eyes. "They're probably even gonna bug Gwyneth about this crap. This is one big mess and, I hate to say it, but it's all. Your. Fault."

"I know! Okay? I know. Calm down, please, people are starting to stare." I told him quietly, eyeing a woman who looked like she was about to murder us both.

"Come on, this way." I said, dragging Indio to a fairly quiet and empty waiting room. There were only two people in it. One was an older gentleman who was snoring softly, and the other was a man who seemed to be hung over, puking his insides into a small bucket. Yeah, this was perfect.

Indio put his suitcase on the floor and crossed his arms, a concerned look on his face. "What's going on?"

I grunted. "Okay. Susan and are getting a divorce, for one." I said, sticking up one finger, counting it off.

Indio frowned, alarmed, his brown eyes widening. "Wait. I thought that was a rumour. Why? What the hell happened?"

I shook my head. "Another time." I told him. "Not now. I'm too tired and its been a long day."

Indio looked dubious but shut up. "Two?" I nodded.

"Right. Two: Yes, I had sex with a woman about three years after you were born and, yes, she got pregnant, and yes, the girl on the news is the same girl that's down the hall in that goddamned bed. And yes. She is your half-sister." I said.

Indio swallowed hard, exhaling. I watched as he processed all this. He was doing fairly well, for a nineteen year old, almost twenty year old, kid.

"Where's her mom?" He asked, finally. The question still hurt, even though I had been bracing myself for it.

"She's gone." Indio raised eyebrow.

"She left the girl here?" He said, incredulous. I frowned.

"No, She passed almost a month ago." I said, trying to swallow the lump in my throat. Indio softened and sighed.

"Aw. Dad... I didn't... I didn't know." He said quietly. "I'm.. I'm sorry."

I smiled a little. "I missed you, squirt." He rolled his eyes but smiled.

"I'm glad to see no nicknames have changed during my temporary absence." He said mournfully. "Damn."

I grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a hug. He laughed. "I missed you too." He admitted.

"I know." I told him, pulling away to give him a big sloppy kiss on his cheek. He groaned.

"You're worse than Mom." He complained. I shrugged, picking up his bag.  

"How long are you staying? I thought you were trying to get the band back together." I told him. He shook his head, his long wavy hair hitting him in the face.

"Nope. The Peaceful Protest has officially disbanded as of last week. Or was it the week before...?" I rolled my eyes, my nose wrinkling.

"The Peaceful Protest sounds like a porno about a bunch of horny hippies." I whispered. "Why can't you guys come up with a real name, stick to it, and then stay the hell together so you can make some damn music?" I asked.

Indio only shrugged. "Yeah. Well, although your opinions on our band names are always the most intriguing of our conversations, I'm actually here to not only passively confront you, but to ask if I could maybe crash on the couch for a few weeks...?" He asked, squinting his eyes.

I recoiled, laughing. "Few weeks? What the hell? Indio, what happened to your nice condo in L.A.?" I asked, still laughing.

"OUR nice condo, Dad. Remember, all the band members share the condo?" I rolled my eyes.

"Alana-Rose is staying at the house right now. And... I don't know if it's a great idea to try and integrate you into her... routine." He frowned.

"Well, what the hell is wrong with her?" I shook my head.

"No, it's not like that... Well, actually it kind of is."

"You make her sound, like, mental, or something." I sighed.

"She is... to an extent."

Indio frowned again, looking around the room. He pulled off the hood on the hoodie he was wearing and leaned towards me.

"Is she, like, Down syndrome?" I scoffed, smacking him on his head. He winced and I hit him again.

"No, dumbass. She's ADD and, at times, suffers from like Terretz or something." I confessed slowly.

"Ahh." Indio said, nodding. He exhaled quickly, chewing on lip like when he was little. "So when do I meet her?"

"You want to meet her?" He nodded. I watched and he pulled his hair into a small ponytail on top of his head, frowning at the affect.

"Hmm. Well, I guess that can be arranged."