Dreams

Daddy's Little Princess

"Why you aren't you answering the phone Nic?" Jermaine asks me in a teasing type way. He must not see the freight in my eyes right now, because he picks up the phone and answers it and says in a girlish voice, "Hello, who is this?"

"Nicole, this your dad. I know it seems impossible, but it's true honest. I am a dead, 32 year old man calling his daughter-" the voice said as Jermaine hung up the phone. He was looking at me with total freight in his face. The phone rings again, and this time I consider answering it. "Hello, who is this and why are you calling me?" I sound very off, but truth is, I have seen and heard worse.

"Well that is just rude, Nicole. I thought I taught you better than that, especially since I am your father." The voice sounds exactly like him. Everything that I knew about my father was popping into my mind as if I was seeing some sort of slideshow of my past.

"Well, dad, I was never told about talking to the dead. How is this even possible? I saw your body in the casket lying motionless, and now you decide to call me and prove to me, after 6 years, that you aren't dead." He answers by saying, " I was never dead. That was my body in the casket, but when they closed the casket for good I wasn't there anymore. I am so sorry for not telling you and the rest of the family, especially your mother." This has really got me heated. I have tears rolling down my eyes, and Jermaine comforting me isn't really helping me.

"Do you realize what we have gone through without you here. Mom taking up two jobs to pay for David's tuition, David trying to succeed without the inspiration of a father, and me. I needed you the most. In fact, I still need you, and all you can say for yourself is that you're not dead, and that you're sorry. Sadly daddy, sorry won't fix anything, not this time." I hang up the phone, and just cry my eyes out. I want the ability to forget: to forget today, this conversation, and especially my dad being alive.

We leave McDonald's and go to Jermaine's house. I call my mom and tell her that I'll be over here for a couple of days, so she won't worry. I can't tell her about today. I can't do it. Those words are rummaging through my head so loudly, that I didn't hear Jermaine talking to me. I land back on Earth and try to focus. He looks so cute when is explaining something, and knows that I'm not listening.

"Why are you looking at me like that Nicci?" Jermaine asks me jumping on the bed.

"Nothing." I said, " I was just wondering why this happened. Like why did he decide to call me after six years? Why did we encounter the prom wrecking? Why are we so important in this puzzle known as life?"

He couldn't put into words, so he just held me in his arms saying, "Everyone has their reason on Earth. With every action there is a reason, and today you didn't give your dad a chance to give his reason to anything. I understand that you are mad, and you have every right to be. But does that seriously mean that you have to take commence control to everything? You see that I didn't just zone you out and ignore you today because you hadn't told me about you being pregnant. At least think about calling him back or even hearing him out if he calls you again, okay?"

I smile and nod my head in agreement, with tears rolling down my face. He is right in more ways than one, and I have to come clean sooner than later on why I hadn't told him about this. He has the right to know, but by the way he is looking at me, I can tell that he already knows. We go to sleep around mid-afternoon, and I feel better about this situation. But I still don't believe I have it in me to tell mom about today's events.

It's Saturday, at last! Quisha and I go baby shopping at the mall, and we already have a load of clothes for the twins. Jermaine is going to be so freaked out about this, but he will be okay. We end up going to get our nails done, and went to the beach. I don't know why, but when I have a lot on my mind this will be the place to be. I had a lot of thought on yesterday's events, and I decide to call my dad. After four tries and three rings, he answers.