A Mother's Secret

Chapter 2

I scribbled the words Danielle Thomas onto the top of my notes sheet, underlining it in black ink. That was probably the most amount of writing I had done all morning. I hadn't been particularly motivated for many of my classes (I called it the Monday morning blues) and I could see Mrs Garcia's eyes flicking over to me every now and again as she spoke. I sighed, probably a little too heavily, and placed my pen down on my desk. I rested my chin into the palm of my hand and stared out of the class window, zoning out from where I was until slowly all the noise around me disappeared.

My imagination took me to another reality, one that I could have had if Stella didn't move us to Dunsmuir. I was walking down Third Street promenade in Santa Monica. The lights in the trees lit up the busy walkway ahead of me and I smiled at the feel of the sun on my face as the light breeze swept through my hair. I could hear the gentle dripping of water falling from the fountain that acted as the promenade centrepiece. The street was busy, but no one rushed, as everyone took their time to admire the beautiful sculptures that stood tall at either side of the water fountain, with the USA stars and stripes flag hanging boldly across the walkway.

A man smiled over at me, the sun making the lighter shades of blonde in his hair appear almost white, and his kind eyes looked identical to my own. As I smiled back he ushered with his hand for me to go over. I had seen this man before, sometimes in a dream, but often in my imagination on every birthday I could ever remember, standing in our doorway with a sealed envelope and his arms open for a hug. He was my father. Well, my illusion of him, based off of a vague description Stella had given me as a child when I began asking why most of my friends had two parents but I only had one. It was a sore subject; one that very rarely got brought up by myself, because when I did I was shut down almost immediately. Stella always told me that my father didn't know I existed. After falling pregnant at the tender age of 19, and giving birth to me at 20, Stella told me how my father had left to go to college and she never saw him again. The first time we spoke about him, I pushed her for his name but she became defensive and infuriated, resulting in a row that went on for a week and in the end I still came out defeated.

He wrapped his arm protectively over my shoulders. Stella never told me much about his appearance, just that I took more of his looks which was why me and her didn't have much of a resemblance. So I envisioned him being blonde like me, with fair skin and blue eyes that turned a cool grey as the day darkened. I imagined him having that crease on his nose when he smiled and two dimples in his cheeks that only appeared when he gave a cheesy grin. Surely there had to be someone in this world who I shared my features with.

I rested my head into my father's shoulder, and as I smiled into my palm at the place I had taken myself away to, I was dragged back into my reality by the sound of my name ringing through my ears.

"Are you with us?" Mrs Garcia was standing in front of me with her hand on my desk and I was suddenly very aware that everyone's attention was on me. My father had gone, Santa Monica disappeared and I was sitting back in my English classroom in Dunsmuir.

I tried not to portray my disappointment. "Of course, Miss, sorry."

Mrs Garcia just smiled and made her way back to the front of the classroom. I picked up my pen and continued to trace over my name in the corner of the sheet.

"So if you want to participate in the trip then you must have this form filled in by your parents and brought back to me tomorrow morning."

My attention was back on Mrs Garcia as she erased the writing off of the whiteboard, reaching on her tiptoes to clear the top of the board that read 'San Francisco'.

"Trip?" I murmured to myself. I stretched across the desk and tapped Vicky's desk with my pen. "What's the trip?"

Vicky tilted her head forward and peered at me over the thick rim of her glasses, "Dani, where have you been for the past half hour?" I had been in Santa Monica with my father, actually. "Class trip to a book reading at City Lights Bookseller in San Francisco this Friday."