The Scholarship

Later On ~ 7

Later on I walk into the kitchen. And mom is making some dinner. I ask her what she's planned but get no response but a shrug in reply.

"What's for dinner?" I ask again. She then stops turns around to face me, her back now facing the grill. She shakes her head and turns back and continues, beardy looking me in the eyes.

"What? He knocked on the door. I didn't call him, or invite him or anything." I exclaim with hand ventures, already knowing she could see.

"But why did you not tell me?" She now turns again.

"Because."

"Because what?"

"Because...," I look to the ground for a minute, then when ready lift my head with confidence and a little annoyance in there somewhere, "whenever I try and talk about him, and try to see what he's like. Why he left us." She looks to her feet at this last sentence. "You always change the subject. And that was my chance. My one and only chance to find out about his identity."

"But how did you know it was him?"

"Because, I've seen a few pictures of him and he said something like, 'I take it this is my daughter'."

"Wait, what?"

"What?"

"How have you seen pictures of him?"

"I've seen them in that shoebox at the bottom of your wardrobe." I say, nervous of what her reply would be.

"What? How? How do you know about that?"

"Once, you know when I used to wear your shoes?" Partly lying, although it gets a laugh.

"Remember that photo I took of you?" She asks, smiling with her eyes-we've turned a corner.

"Oh yeah!!" That was funny! But wasn't that on your old phone?" She just nodded, she couldn't speak from all the laughing.

"Well, anyway. Back to the story! When I used to sneak in to get heels and shoes I found the box. It was hidden away in the back of the cupboard. And I've always been nosy, as you of course know, but still. I had to have a peek, and knowing me, I just couldn't help myself. And that's when I found it. I was wondering who this man was. But then I noised around, and found the letters. I kept going in ever since because I couldn't read. And when I could, I realised that it was my dad. I was really excited that I knew something about him. Then when I carried on asking about him, you still didn't say anything. So yeah. That's how I know." After this I gave a small smirk.

She just sighed and look to the dirty ground, with stains all across. "Um, I guess I was just scared. I couldn't take that you'd hate him, although how he left us. He was actually ok at the start, and then. Things just drifted one day, and, I couldn't get his focus just on me for even one second, and one rainy night the door was slammed. I was woke up, he hadn't even slept in the bed, or at all for I know. But he left me a note, which I didn't put in that box."
By this point we were both in tears.

***