34 Chapter 34

I sit on the bench in front of the diner, my hands folded and pressed between my knees. Alex sits next to me and the man who claims to be my father is standing in front of me.

"Please say something Julianna."

"No one calls me that!" I snap before looking back at my feet and blushing, "Except mom when I don't do dishes..."

He chuckles, "Yeah well, she wasn't always like that."

I glare at him, "Why should I believe anything you say? You can't prove your my dad, and even if you are, you abandoned us!"

He sighs and shrugs, "I've made mistakes kiddo, I'm not proud of a lot of the things I did but I... How is your mom?"

"What do you care? You left her, twenty-five years old with a four year old baby. You left us straddled with all your gambling debts, do you realize that at four years old I had to listen to your bookie threaten mom and take her savings for school? I work part time while mom works full time and goes to school and tries to fix the mess you put her in!"

I don't realize I'm standing until Alex has to pull me back toward the bench and away from my dad's face.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. If I could make it better I would, I'm sorry," He reaches for my hand but I pull away, "Look why don't you take tonight, get some sleep. I'll be here tomorrow around noon, if you want to talk or maybe get some questions answered, you come get me. Alright?"

I don't react or respond, instead Alex stands between my father and me, "We'll see what happens. Why don't you get going, get back to your celebration and I'll take her to make sure she gets rest and time to think. Just don't get your hopes up," I hear an edge in his voice.

My dad glances at me one last time before heading in the diner. Alex stands in front me, not saying anything, just waiting and giving me time to process.

"What are the odds? The one night I leave the motel room, I choose to eat at his regular hang out spot," I give a flat chuckle as I lean back on the bench, "I'm such an idiot."

"No, no you aren't. He's the idiot, he made the mistake of missing out on you and your life."

"Thanks," I can't help but smile, "Can we leave now? I'm kinda tired, this has all been..."

"A lot? That's fair," He takes my hand and helps me off the bench, "Do you think you'll want to see him tomorrow?"

"I don't really know, it's been almost 14 years since I saw him. What would I say? Why should I hear him out? Why should I believe any of it?"

"If nothing else, you can say you tried. You can say you finally got answers, even if they aren't true."

He's not wrong, and of course I want answers, but am I prepared for what those answers may be? At least I don't have to decide right now. I have some time.

My mom pops into my head as we walk, would she want me to talk to him? Would she talk to him if she had the chance? What would she say? In a way, she never got over my dad. She blamed herself for him leaving, for not being enough to stop gambling. I remember her crying in bed for months after he left. She really loved him, she really wanted a family. She tried to help him pay off his debts and quite gambling but he never did. If I bring him up she acts mad at him but then she'll cry when she thinks I'm not looking. He really broke her. Maybe at the very least I could give her some closure.

"Do you think I should see him?" I can tell the moment the words leave my mouth that I probably shouldn't have asked.

"I'd give my own arm to have a conversation with my parents at this point. I'd jump off a bridge for the chance to talk to my grandparents, so... I think you should take the chance before you lose it... You never know when the chance you're given is the last one you'll get."

I feel my heart drop. I hope he goes home after all this is over, I'm sure his parents miss him. It's been close to two months, and they haven't heard anything from him, they have to be worried by now.

"How often did you take impromptu trips? I mean, you've been all over if we're having to change states every week."

"Ever chance I got. Last summer I left and went to New York for a week. Every weekend, every school vacation, I'm gone. I only stay home for school and work during summer. Otherwise it's just sitting at home alone, which is depressing as hell."

"I'd hang out with you," I cringe at my words, I didn't mean to say them aloud but now I can't turn back, "I work a lot, but it's boring, you could come to the pizzeria. I get free food and my boss doesn't care who comes by."

"You still work at that little hole in the wall? It was pretty good pizza, as long they haven't messed it up since freshmen year."

"I mean, it's a little more expensive if you actually have to pay, but it's still pretty good. Mr. Marchino got a new selection of bottled soda, he sometimes lets me take one on my way out... I like the black cherry."

He chuckles, "You're kind of adorable, you know that? The way you babble on when you're nervous, or overwhelmed, it's kind of cute."

It's enough to leave me speechless, I never know what to say to his compliments. I never know if he means them, or if they mean something more. It's probably silly to think it means anything.

We walk in awkward silence. Alex tells me to go to bed and think about tomorrow before disappearing into the bathroom.

Staring at the ceiling, I contemplate what to do. Maybe I can convince dad to come back, if my mom will take him we could be a family again. Maybe mom could finally be happy.

Some answers are better than none. Right? Maybe if I tell myself that enough times I'll believe it, because Alex has a point... When will I ever get this chance again?

Alex steps out of the bathroom in thick flannel pants and starts digging through his stuff. I watch him search for whatever it is he's searching for when my eyes wander to the silver briefcase next to him.

"You never told me what's in there," I say before I can stop myself.

He's caught off guard, he glances down to the briefcase before squeezing his eyes shut. "It doesn't matter, it shouldn't be in there and it won't be much longer."

"Can you be anymore vague?" I groan as I sit up.

"Jules, please... The stuff in that briefcase is not something to mess with. This is what I was supposed to give the devil, this is what he wants, and I'm sure as hell not going to give it to him. The fewer people who know what's in here, the better. I want to keep you safe, and to do that, I need you to not ask questions. Alright?"

I nod, I'm so tired of secrets. I'm so tired of not knowing, but there's not much I can do about it at this point.

I don't bother changing clothes, I don't really bother doing anything other than washing my face before I climb under the blankets and try to sleep.

I hear Alex rummage through his stuff as I slowly drift to sleep. I try to ignore the nerves and knots in my stomach as I tell myself over and over, some answers are better than none. Some answers are better than none. Some answers are better than none.

The words circle my head as I finally fall asleep.

Waking up the next morning I feel awful. My head is throbbing, my stomach hurts. Alex is asleep next to me and I contemplate waking him up. I don't want to bother him, he seems peaceful. Maybe I'll go see my dad by myself if he doesn't wake up.

It's a little after ten in the morning. He might not notice if I leave now, maybe if it's quiet enough he'll sleep until I get back.

Sliding off the bed, I grab my bag and head for the bathroom. I'm in no rush to get ready, but I feel like I need to be moving otherwise I'll chicken out. I take a quick shower and blow dry my hair as I watch the steam fade from the mirror. The longer I stare at myself in the mirror, the more insecure I feel.

Does he like me? Do I look too much like mom? Not enough? Does he think I'm pretty, is he proud to call me his daughter when he looks at me? Does he see any of himself in me?

I know I got my dark hair from him but it seems like that's it. I've always had my mom's eyes and full lips. Mom and I are both short and curvy, my face is oval shaped like hers. I guess you could say our noses are similar, hers is a bit bigger, but so is my dad's it seemed. The only thing I seem to share with him is my black hair.

I dig in my bag and pull on my dress, I want to look nice. Maybe seeing me all dolled up will show him that we miss him, maybe he'll come home.

I go to put my hair up but remember what Alex said about it looking better down. I sit there fluffing it up and trying to make it look elegant. When I've decided that all I'm accomplishing is making it look like a rat's nest, I pull out my makeup. Mom always told me I didn't need it but I don't really want the world seeing the dark circles under my eyes or the dry skin spots or the occasional break out from stress and pizza grease.

My face has definitely cleared up in some areas, but I still look gross in my mind. Putting on my foundation, I watch the blemishes fade. I pull out more makeup than I usually do, I guess some part of me thought I'd need it. I pick light shades for my eyeshadow and let my face pinken up with some blush. I almost look normal, heck I almost look like the kind of girl Alex would go for. Lipstick, eyeliner, and mascara are quick and add a nice little flare. I think it looks like a lot but maybe dad will like it.

I take my bag as I walk back into the room, hoping Alex is still asleep. It's after eleven. I could leave now and he wou—

"Well look at you," His husky voice makes me jump, "You really went all out today."

"I didn't realize... I thought you were still asleep." I look away, I feel ridiculous in all this makeup, he probably thinks I'm being desperate. That I'm trying too hard to get my dad to like me.

Daddy issues, party of one!

"Nah, can't sleep forever you know. I woke up a couple minutes ago." He watches me for a few moments, I try not to squirm under the awkward pressure. "You're nervous about seeing your dad aren't you? You know, you don't have to do all that, if he doesn't like you the way you are then screw him!"

"Alex, I—"

"No!" He's quick to sit up and get off the bed. Grabbing my arms he stands firm in front of me, "You are incredible! If he can't see that, then that's his fault and his loss! People are better for knowing you. You make them think, you make people see the world in a new way! If he wants to be blind, that's his problem, not yours."

I try to keep my lip from quivering as he lets go of my arms and walks to his bag.

"Give me ten minutes," He smiles as he passes me. He stops for a second before dropping his bag and taking my wrist. He whips me around and pulls me into a tight hug. His bare chest is warm and shaky as he whispers, "You deserve to be happy. Don't let anyone make you think different."

With that he lets go and leaves me standing alone.