°•°•Quentin Jamal Isaac°•°•°
Some days I find myself thinking about my dad. I have so many unanswered questions. My mother just told me he left us. Hell that's every mother's favorite line when a child's father leaves. There had to be a reason why he's not there.
To be honest if I were to see him today I wouldn't know what to say or do. Maybe I'd:
Punch him relentlessly.
Scream and yell at him for not being there.
Just walk away.
Question him.
Hug him.
I just don't know. All of them sound like good ideas to me. But I know Destiny would flip out of my ass. I don't need her lecturing me or being mad at me. But at the end of the day these are my decisions. If you can't except me for who or what I am then there's no need to be here.
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Destiny was out getting stuff for the house and I was sitting here blowing on some High Grade thinking about how far I've come and where I want to go. I don't know what's got me acting like this.
I know y'all like aren't you supposed to be a cold hearted thug? Don't get it twisted I'll kill for mine, but I still have feelings just like the rest.
I got up to get me something to snack on when there's a knock at my door. I opened the door to see a tall white man.
"Who you and what you want? If you came by to try and sell me something I don't want it." I was about to slam the door in his face, but his next three words stopped me.
"I'm your father." I opened the door open so quick.
"WHAT?!"
"I'm your father." He repeated again.
"How do I know you not lying?" I squinted my eyes looking him from head to toe. We do have the same eyes, ears, nose, and we're about the same height. He cleared his throat.
"Your mother's name is Kimberly Williams. You're 18 about to be 19. You're birthday is August 17th. You used to love playing video games when you were little. I always took you to the park every chance I got." He stood. He's my father, but after 16 going on 17 years he choices to show up now.
"I remember." I mumbled.
"Can I come in?"
"Do you steal?"
"No."
"Then there's your answer." He sighed defeated. I could see the hurt, pain, determination, and love in his eyes. I deeply sighed moving out of the way so he could come in. I closed the door behind him.
"You could sit." He sat down in the chair across from me. This gave me a little time to process what's actually going on.
"I know you have a lot of questions and I'm willing to answer them, truthfully." He started off. "I'm sorry I missed out so much of your life, but it's my fault." I nodded. I don't know why is so hard for me to say what I really want. We sat in silence for about ten minutes, awkwardly.
"Why'd you leave?" I croaked out.
"Back before you were born I met your mother and instantly fell in love with her. We started dating and eventually it lead to us having you. But I used to me a man of many occupations, if I should say." I raised my eyebrow.
A man of many occupations? The fuck?
"I used to be a pimp. I had girls ages from 16 to 35 prostituting themselves. I also sold drugs and stayed in and out of jail. Your mom finally got tired of it and left. The night she walked out I was arrested. I spent 15 years in prison. I've been out and on the clean and narrow for two almost three years. With my background no one wanted to give me a job. I ended up meeting this man who needed help at a mechanic shop. Long story short he ended up dying and giving me his business. Ever since I stepped out of those prison gates I was determined to find you. I ran into your mother and she told me where you lived and here I am. I just want to be able to be in your life again." He said. I just nodded because I didn't know what to day. Then Destiny walks thru the door.
"Quentin Issac come help with these damn-" She stopped talking when she walked into the living room.
"Oh hello." She said looking at my dad. He stood up.
"Hey. I'm Kyle Isaac. I'm Quentin's dad." He said while they shook hands.
"Nice to meet you Mr. Isaac. I'm Destiny." He looked at her for a while.
"You're mothers name is Kayla Pratt?"
"Yeah. How'd you know?"
"Believe it or not your mom's used to be best friends." He said.
"Used to be?"
"Yeah when you two were about 6 or 7 months old they ended up getting into it. Ever since then they never talked to each other."
"Did you know why?"
"Sadly I don't. When I asked either of them they just said ask the other. So I just gave up."
"Well let me finish getting these groceries from the car. You two can finish getting back to what y'all were doing."
"You sure you don't need any help bae?"
"Yeah. I got it." She waked out the room leaving us in silence again.
"Uhh ... Well I guess I'll take my leave and let you decide if you want me in your life or not." He said getting up. He handed me a card that had his name and number on it.
"Call me if you ever want to talk son." He smiled a sad smile looking at me one last time before walking out the door.
I looked down at card.
Maybe I will take him up on his offer. I got all my answers, but for right now I need the answer to this last one.
Why did our mother's fight?
