in which she swims to forget all the pain, but he sees it all because dallas edlen is not ok and, having loved her for years, seeing that was no task.
ONE BREATH
MINIMINTER
SIDEMEN
DEATHLIES 2016
[COMPLETED]
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EIGHTEEN d a l l a s
Their family house in LA was larger than it needed to be for a family with only one child. Even if they did, at one point, have two children, the house could fit far more than two. It was modern, newly built within the year and, especially for Dallas, had a large outdoor pool with deep, blue tiles lining the bottom.
The walls of the house were painted white and the windows were ceiling to floor length, crystal clear and almost a window into another, richer world for those who walked past the iron fence that towered dominantly into the sky, reaching into the everlasting blue skies of LA. Infinite.
As Dallas stepped out of the car, she looks upon the house with a refreshed stance. It had been over a year since she'd last visited and honestly she had missed it.
More importantly, she'd missed her dad. Dallas was a lot more like her dad than she was her mum. They matched in appearance with their handsome eyes, but matched even closer in personality with their unforgiving, impulsive behaviour and unpredictable ability to fixate on something and have an unrelenting drive for just that until it was done and dusted, or a new fixation arose.
Sometimes Dallas saw herself as one of her dad's past fixations. He always seemed to be there when she was little. He would be the one to pick her up when she fell down, brush away the tears when she cried and tell her she was beautiful when the other kids told her otherwise. In those moments she compared herself to those pathetic fixations, she told herself she was being unbelievable and snapped out of it, telling herself that she was so much more than a fixation.
Fixations can be swept under the rug, children can't.
"Your dad should be in his office," Derek informs her, snapping her out of her glazed stare. She looks at her uncle with her suitcase in his hand and offers him a smile, which he seems to appreciate.
"Thanks," She says, pulling her small handbag higher on her shoulder. In the heat of LA, she was thankful she'd worn a dress. It blared down on her back as she walked up the stone steps to the front door of the house.
When she pushes the door, it's open. Of course it was, she was expected.
Upon walking in, she is greeted with her father being stood in the hall. He beams at her a smile which, to her, looks a guilty one. A smile of a dad who's broken a promise to his daughter who knew better than to forgive him without second thought.
"Dallas!" He exclaims, his voice booming loudly and with endless happiness that Dallas wished she could bottle up and hold close to her forever. He is pulling her into a hug in seconds, holding her against him like she were about to leave him forever. "I'm glad you could make it. I didn't know if you were busy with school work or swimming, but I thought it was worth asking."
"It's only the beginning of the year so there isn't a lot of work yet," Dallas lies. "Besides, I haven't been to LA in too long."
"It's unfortunate that you and your mother couldn't make it this summer, but I'm sure you'll be able to make up for it over Christmas," He replies with unfaltering hope. He nods at Derek as he slips past, carrying Dallas' suitcase upstairs to her room. "We have a lot we need to discus, as you know."
"Yes." Dallas swallows. "Far too much."
"Maybe we should discus it over a dinner. I'll book a table and we can go this evening."
"That would be wonderful," She smiles.
-
Sitting across from her dad in a high class restaurant with pinched waiters and meals that cared more about presentation than having a sustainable amount wasn't where she'd originally imagined they'd be discussing the matters of the family, but it would do.
Her dad wore a navy suit, matched with a navy tie, but only now could she see the age in his face. The wariness that moulded beneath his eyes and the wrinkles that folded across his once handsome skin. He looked tired with life and Dallas couldn't help but wonder if maybe that described her too. Although she wasn't wrinkled by time, she'd lived enough years and experienced enough pain to know that she too was tired with life.
"Dallas, I know this is hard to discus. I don't even know where to begin," He starts, looking at her with his wise eyes.
"Start with the reasons why because I think I know why, but maybe I'm wrong," Dallas says, looking down at the small portion of food on her plate.
"Your mother has a problem, which I'm sure you're aware of, and that problem is her dependency on alcohol."
"Yes, I'm more than familiar with that problem." Her chest tightens and suddenly she is not so hungry anymore.
"Yes, well, I feel as if it's a problem which she needs to solve. I gave her a chance to do so, but she refused and claimed that she didn't have an addiction. I think it's best for me to leave her, get a divorce and let go of the worries that I have to handle when it comes to her."
"I understand," Dallas replies, putting her fork down softly. Now she looks up at him, with fresh and youthful tears in her eyes. "But you're going to leave me with her, aren't you?"
"I have to. You're doing well in school over there, transferring you wouldn't do any good. Plus, I'm barely ever home when I'm working in the week. It's good for you to come home to a warm home with people to ask you about your day."
Dallas sighs, wiping away a tear from beneath her eye. "You'll let me visit, right? Whenever I want?"
Dad laughs. "Of course, honey! Whenever you want to, as long as you give me some notice."
Dallas hates that she feels relief when he says that. It's like she thought that the divorce meant that she was being cut out of his life for good. She laughs too. A relieved laugh and a happy laugh because even if her mum was an alcoholic and abusive, she had a loving dad who meant so much to her it hurt.
