My Sinful Deed

Ch. 6

Ava's p.o.v

Soon after the maids and butlers came right on time, when I was in the kitchen finishing breakfast. "Good morning Ava. Where is your father may I ask?" the eldest maid, Marci, who has been with my family before my mother died. "He is my room..." before I can ask her something, she quickly leaves the kitchen in a hurry. I furrow my brows together feeling even more confused. Other maids filled the house, cleaning everything up. They did not have to touch the kitchen area, since I already cleaned it up.

A sigh escapes from me as I pour my father some tea. "Well I never heard you sigh so hard in my entire life working here Miss Ava," Solomon's voice pleased my ears. I turn around seeing him, he is same as Marci. "Oh, Solomon please tell me that I can ask any questions I want from a very wise old butler like you," I look at him with pleading eyes.

Solomon sighs, "I knew this day would come," he mumbles. He snaps his fingers, and another younger maid appears talking the food and tea that was for my father away from me, "Make sure that makes it tp the Lord safely," he says with authority. The maid nods softly and walks out the kitchen.

He turns back towards me, "Shall we?" he bows then escorts me to my mothers old office. We enter the room as he locks the door, so we will not be disturbed. The office has not changed since my father is too scared to redesign it. I do not want to redesign it either, because I love it when I come in here. The memory of seeing my mother working warmed my heart.

I turn my head looking at a spot when I was little, and I would go over there and draw or color then I would show it to her. She would smile proud for what I did and go hand on the fringe or keep it on her office as an art piece. I walk to towards the chair where she would sit in. I cross my leg over the other and sit up properly wanting to get serious and get to business.

Solomon smiles softly, "You look just like your mother. It warms my heart that you have portrayed after her," he sits down in a chair on the other side of the desk. A soft smile escapes my lips, "Yeah...I really do miss her," tears came to my eyes as much memories spilled in, but I wanted to stay on task at this moment and get to the bottom of what happens behind my back. "Solomon, I want to know how long my father has been drinking?" I asked straight forwards.

He sighs in defeat, "He has been drinking since you mother died. After days and months and years pass his drinking habits have become worse and he kept it has a usual behavior after every divorce. . This actually the worse I have actually seen he has ever done," he pauses, "He keeps making it a habit that at every divorce he would drink until he has gone mad. I remember trying to stop him and he actually cut me with a broken glass on my cheek," he traces the scar.

I stare at his scar remembering he told me when I was little that a mean stray cut scratched him. Once more a lie that I took oblivious to it all. "That is why we let you go by a friends house or your grandmother, so you will not get hurt in the process. Who knows what would happen if he actually hurt you. He would have gone mad. Speaking of hurt...are you alright?" he asked concerned. I snapped out of my little daze, "My feet were cut with some broken glass in his office, but you shouldnt worry about me. He was severely injured when I found him," I mumble looking down at the oak desk. Just seeing his weak, pale body on the office floor made my breathing difficult.

My father has been drinking all this time and conflicting hurt on himself and I made it worse by blaming it on him. Tear drops ran down my face. I made him suffer and do more damage. Solomon got up from his seat walking towards me. "You should not blame yourself Ava. You never knew because you were little and because he did not want you to worry about him. I can remember him babbling on about his little princess in his drunk stage. He always wanted to be the ideal father that you ever had," he touches my shoulder softly. I nod softly getting out the seat, wiping my tears away.

Suddenly a knock erupts from the door. "What is it?" Solomon asked. "The Lord is awake Solomon," Marcis voice echoed from the other side of the door. My heart skips a beat hearing that he is up. I quickly dash towards the door unlocking it, swinging it open seeing a startled Marci. Is he eating? I asked in panic, "Has he thrown up yet?!" I asked once more. Marci smiled taking my hand before I can ask any more panic questions, "Relax dear child. He is alright," she starts leading me up-stairs as Solomon follows behind.

We enter my room seeing my father nibbling on the toast I made. He looks pale and weak. I felt like I wanted to scream at him or whether to cry in joy that he is alive. He turns his head slowly making eye contact with me. Pure shock and horror crosses his eyes, but shame showed more of itself. I can tell he never wanted me to see him like this, but its too late. I walk to the opposite side of the bed, crawling on it gently.

I lean against his shoulder as I reach for a toast on the plate. "Isn't that my toast?" he ask softly, but awkwardly. "Shut it. I made it for you and right now I don't know whether to hit you, throw you over my balcony or just hit you," I said, filling my mouth with toast. "You already said hit me twice, Ava," he chuckled heartedly. "So? I am taking the nice way and eating, so be happy. I am also taking away your privilege of drinking. Solomon. Marci," I snap my fingers. "As you wish Miss Ava," Solomon smiles leaving the room with Marci behind him.

"Are you taking my liquor away from me?" my father ask in panic. "Welcome to Ava's rules. You better get used to it because you are in big trouble Mister," a laugh came from my chest, but seized, "You had me worried....I could have lost you...." I added. He said nothing but I feel like he wants to say something, but does not know how to put it, "I am sorry...." is all he could say.

I nod my head, slouching down a bit letting my head rest on his shoulder. I cannot forgive yet, I just can't. He will have to work hard in order for me to forgive. I will keep a closer eye on him. This time I am not leaving my father in his own vulnerability. We can get through this together. He gently rest his head on top of mine, "I really am sorry my Ava..." he whispered softly repeats as pain scratched his words.