The Secret of Ella and Micha(50)

"Micha?" He tucks the newspaper under his arm. "Is that you?"

I take another deep breath and walk across the front lawn. "I don't even know why I'm here."

"Why don't you come inside so we can talk?" he suggests. I follow him into the house that's even nicer on the inside; hardwood floors, a massive chandelier, and freshly painted walls with family pictures on them. "You have a family?"

He tosses the newspaper onto a table and motions for me to have a seat in the living room. "Yeah, a daughter that's twelve and a son that's eight."

Feeling awkward, I sit down in a chair that's decorated with frilly pillows. He seats himself across from me, seeming like he has no idea what to do or say next. "So how have you been?"

"Super." There's a large portrait on the wall taken in a church of him and his wife on their wedding day and I stare at it, doing the math. "How long have you been remarried?"

He fidgets uncomfortably as he leans back in the chair and stations his foot onto his knee. "Micha, look I'd rather not get into this."

"What did you do? Like run out on us and marry the first person you came across?" Anger burns in my voice. He looks away toward the window and I get it. "You were seeing her while you were still with mom, weren't you?"

He makes eye contact with me again, with eyes exactly like mine. "Look Micha, there were things going on between your mother and I that you don't understand... I wasn't happy."

"There were things going on between you and me, too," I snap. "So what's your excuse for that one?"

He rubs a hand across his face and lets out an exhausted sigh. "I'm sorry."

I clench my hands into fists, fighting the urge to jump off the couch and strangle him. "You're sorry? Great answer, *."

He snatches a manila folder out of the drawer of the end table and slams it down on the coffee table between us. "Your grandfather left you some money in his will."

My eyes flash from the folder to my father. "Is that why you brought me here?"

He opens the folder and takes a small stack of papers out. "I thought maybe you could use it to go to college or something. That would be nice, wouldn't it?"

Shaking my head, I get to my feet. "I'm not going to college and you'd understand that if you knew me past the age of six."

He slides the papers across the table and sets a pen next to them. "Please just take the money, Micha. I want to know that you're taken care of otherwise it'll haunt me."

I pause. "Are you planning on ever seeing me again?" His silence gives me the only answer I need. "I don't want your God damn money." I throw the papers at him and storm for the front door. "Give it to one of your real kids."

He doesn't call after me when I stomp out the door and he doesn't chase me down. I march straight for my car, getting more furious with each step, and I slam my fist into the driver's side window. It doesn't break, but a couple of my knuckles pop.

"Fuck!" I shout, clutching my hand and the old lady across the street, who's working in her garden, scurries inside her mansion.

I jump in my car and speed off down the road with no idea where the hell I'm going.


  
Ella

Micha won't text me back and it's eating away at my mind. I need to find out where he is, but Caroline's making it difficult. She's a photographer and wants to take pictures of the different views of our town. I take her to the lake first because it's the sunnier side of town, and pull over in a few different turnouts that give her various views. When we reach the bridge, she gets really enthusiastic and wants pictures of it too.

"It has so much history to it," she says. "And it probably carries a lot of memories for people."

I wonder if Caroline is a mind reader on top of a photographer.

A thin cloud of dust surrounds us as I tap the brakes and park the car just at the brink of the bridge and she hops out with her camera bag on her shoulder. Lila and I trek after her, taking our sweet time, but I halt at the line that splits the road from the bridge.

"So is this the bridge?" Lila asks, watching me through her sunglasses.

I stare at the spot on the ground where Micha and I stood kissing in the rain. "Yeah, this is the bridge." With a quiver in my heart, I step onto the concrete and walk up to the railing. Gripping the bar, I gaze out at the lake, glistening in the sunlight, so much brighter than that rainy night.

Caroline clicks her camera, getting the lake at every angle while Lila roams to the other side. The wind blows through my hair and I shut my eyes, going back to that night. I'd been cleaning out my mom's medicine cabinet earlier that morning and had come across the bottle of pills she'd taken to keep her delusions under control. I'd wondered if they'd worked for her and how they made her mind see life. So I took one to see for myself and then headed off with Micha to a party.

As soon as I'd climbed in his car, he'd sensed something was off with me. "You look out of it," he said. "Maybe we should just stay in tonight."

I shook my head and motioned for him to drive. Frowning, he drove us to the party, but he kept a close eye on me almost the entire night, following me like a puppy. Usually, I didn't mind, but I grew restless with the desire to figure out what the hell my mother was thinking. So when Micha got preoccupied by a girl, I cornered Grantford and asked him to drive me to the bridge. He had happily obliged, thinking he was going to get some.