So, That's Your Dad? (Freddie Mercury) | Under Construction

Chapter Fifty Six: Expanding

Six months later.......

       I step foot into my father's house once again. This has been a routine for quite some time now. Since I have been going to a counselor with the intentions of improving my relationship with my father, our relationship has improved to a degree. I've been doing just as the counselor has been suggesting. Which is spending a little bit of quality time with him. Meaning an hour or longer with him every day. So now I am sure that my dad has been wondering why I have been coming over to his house every damn day. I am certain that one day he is going to tell me to leave because he's tired of seeing my boring self. There really is not much for me to talk about. I'm working all the time and it's the same routine everyday. I have also asked him about the new album in the works, he still won't give me a clue as to what they are planning.

       I'm hearing a sound that I have not heard in a very, very long time. Him hitting the keys of the piano are very clear and he was playing beautifully. It was refreshing to hear it. He sounds perfect, clearly has not forgotten how to play after his more than thirty years of experience. I take one step at a time up the stairs and I get closer to the notes being played. I am just hoping that my shoes do not get anything dirty. They did leave a small trail when I walked in due to the dirt parking lot at my job. Shit. He is going to be pissed. With a longer amount of time than needed, I make it to the piano room. My dad is so focused that he does not even hear or feel my presence. I didn't want to disturb him. I loved hearing him play and this was a rarity to see nowadays. He began the riff to Seven Seas Of Rhye. The speed and rhythm are correct. However, he messes up by simply hitting one wrong note. I guess even the best of the best mess up at times.

       "Fuck!" He screams and slams his fists on the keys. Now was my time to interveine. I knock twice and that makes him turn to make eye contact with me. The smile on his face forms and I hope that I make his mood better rather than worse. I smile back at him and wait for him to allow me to enter. "Oh, hi darling!" He greeted me with much enthusiasm. "Hey dad, I brought us some food." I tell him and hold up the bag. "Thank you so much, darling. Please, do come in." He invited me in. I take a few steps and make it into the warm room. Warm is an understatement. It was actually hot. So hot that I had to take off my shirt, leaving me in my olive green undershirt. I hand my dad the bag and opened it. He took out a bowl of soup, and then clear, plastic container with a salad in there. "So I'm assuming that the soup is mine?" My dad wanted clification. I nodded as I took a seat in the arm chair a few feet away from the piano.

       With that, he tossed me the salad and I caught it in time. I open it and pick up the fork that was provided to me. We both starting eating and all of the money that I spent on our food was worth it. "How was work?" He asked me. I shighed. "It's good so far. I have to go back for a few more hours after this until I'm off." I answer him. I was only telling the truth to a certain degree. I was tired and throughout the entire day I was not feeling good. My head was pounding the entire day and I have been having chest pain. "Does it ever getting boring just passing papers around all day?" My dad questioned. I laughed at what he said. I wish that it was that simple. But I am grateful that I am in a better place than some of my other colleagues. "I wish that it was that simple, dad. Intel is a lot more complicated than that." I said. "I understand. The military is something that I could ever do. That's why I never did." My dad said.

       I cannot take another bite of food. I feel nauseous as I drop the salad. It goes all over the floor but it is the least that I am concerned about at the moment. I feel incredibly sick to the point where I may pass out. I have no time to make a run to the bathroom as I begin to vomit on the carpeted floor. Instead of my father being annoyed, he makes it to where I am at a very fast pace and comforts me. He is also just as panicked as I am. I have no idea what is going on. I have been feeling this way for quite some time. Everytime I check my tempurature, it comes back normal. I have not gotten any answers as to what is wrong and I am not so sure that I want to go to the doctor. I wouldn't want to hear something that would damage me for the rest of my life. Damn, I sound very ignorant at this moment.