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

FINAL STINKIN' CHAPTER

Alana's Perspective

Robert and I talked for hours. Long hours, hours that I'm sure I've never even shared with girlfriends, with any boyfriend, with anyone before. Period. I have never talked more about nothing and everything at the same time, all day with anyone. Not even with Mom or even Tom. I'd never cried from laughter so many times in five minutes and then start to cry from sadness two minutes later. Never. It was like one of those Nicolas Sparks novel-turned-movies like The Notebook or The Last Song: saying sorry one minute, hitting each other the next; laughing together one minute, cursing each other the next. Ya know, except the person I was arguing with wasn't my hill-billy boyfriend.

He was my dad.

And I'd missed him. God, had I missed that asshole. There were just certain feelings only he could make me feel, only certain things he could say that would either irk me or make me smile. He has a special touch, a special--this is so corny to say--bond with me. He was a part of me, Robert was, and I just don't think I knew that until I left for the time I did, for as long as I did. I hadn't noticed that when someone is talking to him, he usually looks everywhere else but the person's face. And it's not because he's rude, or because he's got a short attention span, which he does, but because he's thinking. I didn't notice that he when he shrugs about something he either doesn't want to talk about it or its an uncomfortable subject for him.

I didn't notice until now.

We fought. We sure did. We spent about an hour arguing, which, I've come to believe is inevitable when Robert and I are together because, honestly, I mean, come on. It's us. We're divas, in our own ways... And we clash and have a bark that is just as bad as our bite. I, personally, think that it's a gift. Not many actually talk the talk and walk the walk... whatever the hell that saying means.

But we got over it. We apologized, said we were sorry. We made amends for what we could, fixed what needed to be fixed. And I laughed just as much as I argued. I hope.

At some point it got dark and I realized that I hadn't called Tom. Like, all day.

We were in the middle of a conversation about him getting The Judge audition when I shot up off the couch.

"... I didn't even know he was--What are you doing?" He asked, his eyebrows raising as he watched me grab my phone from the bar and scroll through the contacts.

I smiled up at him. "Calm down. I'm not going anywhere... I, um, I just need to call Tom."

Robert nodded once. "Right. You have been over here for about six hours." He teased.

I throw a glare his way and he laughed, heaving himself off the couch. "I'll give you a sec, then. I'll go check your laundry." I smiled at that. I'd been six frigging hours, of course the crap was done!!

He walked by me and kissed my cheek swiftly. I smirked, putting the phone to my ear. "Thanks."

He gave me a thumbs up, but didn't turn around.

I sighed as Robert finally left, dedicating my attention to the ringing phone, running nervous fingers through my hair. Tom picked up on the second ring.

"Darling." Tom sighed, sounding a bit worried. "That's you, isn't it?"

I laughed a little. Tom. "Of course, dear one. Who else would it be?"

He gave me a breathy laugh that made my heart flutter a little bit and then quickly break, remembering why I'd left his condo in the first place.

"My imagination can run wild, Alana. You know that better than I."