Death and Tea at Three

18 Isobel and Her Dad

The rice spread across the plate, as Isobel slid her fork around aimlessly. She was hungry. She could feel her stomach grumble every so often, but it all felt trivial to her.

"Isobel, you need to eat," Arianna said, gesturing with her fork toward Isobel's plate.

"I am eating." Isobel did not look up toward her mother, nor was she even looking at her plate. Though she sat at the wooden dinner table, her mind was somewhere else.

"You're not. I am quite clearly watching you. You haven't eaten anything at all," Arianna retorted, though her observations fell on deaf ears.

The concept of time is often confusing for most children, but Isobel was not most children. The very thought was embedded deep within her mind, slowly expanding until it filled her head, like a gas in a bottle.

It had been nine years, Isobel thought, as she continued to swirl her rice around on her plate. At this point, her entire plate was covered in a thin layer of brown rice, though Isobel was unaware of it.

"Isobel, are you even listening to me?" Arianna said.

"Three quarters," Isobel said, now focused on the rice in front of her.

"What? What are you talking about? This isn't the time for math problems. You need to eat."

"Three quarters isn't a math problem, ma. That's the fraction of my life I have lived without dad."

Isobel glanced up with her mother, but she dared not make direct eye contact. She knew the power of her words. She knew even mentioning her father turned her mother into a different person.

Arianna stopped, agape, with a forkful of food midway to her mouth. After a few seconds, her mouth closed, and she placed the fork down on her plate. "Why are you suddenly interested in talking about your father?"

Isobel crossed her arms in defiance, as if doing so would solidify her coming argument. "It's not all of sudden. Any time I have ever even mentioned dad, you panic, and that's it."

"I do not," Arianna retorted, cringing.

"Yes, you do. You should have seen your face when I mentioned dad just now. I thought you were going to have a stroke!" Isobel shouted, as she threw up her arms in frustration.

"That's not fair. You made it so dramatic. How was I supposed to react? Enthused?"

"No, but at least hear me out before reacting," Isobel pleaded, her voice softening,

"Okay, that's fair. I'll listen. What do you want to talk about when it comes to your father?" Arianna crossed her hands and leaned in. "I'm all ears."

Isobel glanced down at her plate and bit her lip. She hadn't thought her mother would listen. She hadn't planned this far ahead. For reasons unbeknownst to her, she thought about Harold. He would be disappointed in her lack of preparation. She wanted to smack herself for not being prepared, but she knew that would only make matters worse. Isobel closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Do you promise not to judge?"

Arianna leaned even further forward, with nearly her entire upper body over the dinner table. "Of course. No judgement, okay?"

"I want to see dad." As the words left Isobel's lips, her mother leaned back in her chair. Isobel spoke quicker, her words becoming jumbled. "I haven't seen him in so long, and lately I've been thinking about him and what I would talk to him about. And I finally feel like I have enough to say to him. I know that seems like such a strange thing to say. I mean, he's my dad. But until recently, I never felt like I had enough reasons to go out and find him. To... actually talk with him."

Isobel paused and waited for her mother's reaction. As she stared at her mother, she could not anticipate how she might respond. Her mother's features looked harder, and more defined than ever. It was strange, but Isobel almost didn't recognize her in that moment. Isobel found this to be very peculiar indeed. How could you see someone every day, and yet see them differently all of a sudden?

Arianna's face and body relaxed, as she bit her lip and looked up and away from her daughter. Isobel thought she could see a glisten at the bottom of her eyes. As if the tears were preparing to flood her face but weren't quite ready to do so.

"Isobel..." Arianna said as she looked back down toward her daughter.

"Yeah?" Isobel said softly, the word barely audible.

"No."

"What? I don't..." Isobel stammered.

"No. You can't."

"What do you mean I can't? He's my dad. How can you say that?" Isobel could feel her throat tightening, and her chest pounding. She knew she going to cry, or maybe she was already crying. She couldn't tell. All she knew for sure was that she needed to keep it together.

"He's your father, but you're my child. You're mine, Isobel. Do you hear me?" Ariana's voice broke as she spoke. Her eyes no longer glistened. They were now red and swollen, as the tears had broken free and flowed seamlessly down her cheeks.

"How can you just tell me I can't see him?"

"Because..." Arianna hesitated, gritting her teeth against one another. "It's not your job to see him. It was his job to stick around. He had the choice. He chose to leave. You don't need that. You don't need him."

"Yes, I do. I'm telling you I do. Why won't you listen?"

"Why do you need him, Isobel? Tell me! Give me one reason why you need him!"

"Because..." Isobel said, her voice cracking. She felt like she was choking on her own tears. She wanted them to stop, but it was as if they had taken on a life of their own. "Because... I can't even remember what he looks like! I tried to remember, but I can't. I thought that if I focused on what I remembered for as long as I could, I'd always know what he looked like. And I would always know where I come from. But I can't remember anymore, ma. I can't."

"Isobel..." Arianna said, her voice more sympathetic. "I'm sorry. I really am. I know you want him in your life, but you need to trust me when I say you're better off without him."

Isobel bit her bottom lip, her arms crossed again. She couldn't look at her mother. She could feel her mother's eyes burning through her, but she refused to meet her gaze.

"What do you know?" Isobel scoffed. "Dad's not in your life and look how it's turned out."

Isobel immediately regretted her words. She watched as her mother digested them. Isobel wasn't quite sure if you could see a person figuratively crumble, but she sure was seeing it now.

Arianna nodded and swallowed hard. "Okay," she said, as she continued to nod.

Isobel wanted to speak up. She opened her mouth in an attempt to fix whatever mess she had created, but no sound seemed to come out.

"I have to go to work. I have a late shift tonight. Please put away the dishes if you could," Arianna said softly.

Isobel stared up at her mother, but she was no longer there. Before, Isobel had trouble recognizing her mother, but now, she couldn't even see her. The strong-willed, witty woman she had grown up with was now something else. Something broken.

And as she watched her mother gather her things and walk out the door, she knew it was her fault.