The Contradiction of Solitude(72)

Matty ran to Mom. She wrapped her shaking arms around him. I was forgotten.

Always forgotten.

When I was finished getting ready, I walked out into the hotel hallway and headed for the elevator. I went out into the bright, bright morning.

I found Elian sitting on a bench underneath a copse of trees.

He looked up as I approached but said nothing. His eyes were dead once again.

“I’m ready,” I said, fiddling nervously with my purse. Nervously?

“I don’t like this, Layna,” Elian remarked, and I heard him. I really did.

But there was nothing to be done about it.

I was going to see my father.

It had to be done.

“I want to get there before noon. So we should get going.” Elian shook his head in quiet disbelief. Then he got up, keys in hand, and headed towards his car.

He stopped after a few steps and held his hand out. Towards me. For me to take.

Touching me. Finally.

We went palm to palm. Full of questionable love.



“I’ll wait out here for you. I’m not going in there,” Elian stated once he pulled into the parking lot.

“Okay. Thank you, Elian. For coming with me. I know this is just as hard for you.” It was important that I tell him that. He deserved to hear it.

“Just go and get it over with so we can put this behind us and move on,” Elian said gruffly as I leaned in to kiss him.

Move on?

Is that what I was doing?

Trying to move on?

Elian gripped my hair at the back of my head and held me still as he claimed my mouth.

Taking. All of me.

This time.

I gave it to him.

I slipped out of the car before I could hesitate.

I headed for the front of the prison and went inside. I passed through metal detectors. I had a pat down or two. I handed over my ID and the guard checked it to make sure my paperwork was in order.

When he realized who I was there to see, I noticed the twist of disgust on his lip. The sweep of his eyes up and down my body, as though trying to match the beautiful woman with the vicious killer.

He didn’t realize we were one and the same.

Right?

Never.

Absolutely.

The guard took my hand and stamped the back and waved me through another series of metal detectors.

My heart started to flutter madly in my chest. Thump. Thump. Pitter. Patter.

It cracked. It split open. It was vulnerable. To him.

I was led into a room with a row of five chairs and a wall of plexiglass. I was told to sit down and pick up the phone.

I did as I was instructed and then I waited.

And waited.

My hand shook as it gripped the grimy phone to my ear.

“Hold my hands, Lay, don’t let go.” Daddy swung me around. And around. I soared. Up. Up. And away.

He laughed. His coal black eyes sparkling.

“More, Daddy!” I cried.

The door on the other side of the glass opened. I couldn’t look up. I stared at the counter. At the pencil scratches, meaningless vandalism.

I heard the chair squeal across the floor as it was pulled out and he sat down.

And I still couldn’t look.

“Why do you always leave, Daddy?” I was sad. He was going fishing again. Why couldn’t he ever take me with him?

I hated it in when he was gone.

“I wish I could take you with me. Maybe one day…”

“Lay.” His voice filled my ears and the tears started to fall.

Fall.

Fall.

As I fell.

Fell.

A.

Part.





Memories came in sudden bursts. Like flashes of light that blinded and obstructed my view of the present.

Because as I looked up into coal, black eyes, so much like my own, I didn’t see my father as he was now.

I saw him as he was then.

I had been sent home from school for fighting. It was stupid as far as fights go. Riley wouldn’t let me play with her. I only wanted her to be my friend. But she said I was weird.

I didn’t get sad.

I didn’t really feel anything.

I just wanted to hurt her.

I took ahold of her hair and yanked on it as hard as I could. I liked the way chunks of it gave way in my hand. I smiled when she screamed and started to cry.

The teacher pulled me off her, but I still had her hair wrapped around my hand. I wouldn’t let go.

Mommy had to come to pick me up. The principal said he was concerned about such violent behavior in a Kindergartner. Mommy had yelled at me. I didn’t really hear her. I just remembered how much Riley had cried. I could still hear it in my head.

But I felt guilty because I didn’t feel bad about it. Because I knew, deep down, I should feel ashamed.

When Daddy got home from his store, Mommy told him about what had happened. I expected him to get angry like Mommy.

I didn’t see Daddy much. He was always at his store in town. Or away on fishing trips. He didn’t spend a lot of time playing with me like other daddies did. Mommy said he was just really busy. And that he needed time away so he could distress. I didn’t know what that meant. But I didn’t like it.

Mommy thought her cuddles were enough. That I was happy as long as she told me that she loved me.

I was only five but I knew I didn’t care about that.