AN ATTEMPT AT OLD ME

1st April, 20??

An Attempt at Old Me. 

Dear Dia,

Do you think it will be enough? That these bags of new clothes and accessories will suffice? For me, I have no clue, but at least now there's a slight chance. A modicum of hope as I will face the horde.

I confess I'm being litotic as to the factors and lengths, I'd gone to make it enough. And it's not a question of whether it will be enough, rather it's whether I can make it enough. 

Never fret, Dia. Already I feel your pages creasing in with confusion, so allow me to clear things up a bit.

I spent the most of last night thinking, pondering and making a list of things that could aid in exonerating me from my social lapses. At the same time, lay bricks towards forgiving dad. It's pretty much killing two birds with one slingshot. I need things. Things that are essential to my social survival and dad was going to get them for me, in return, I would consider forgiving him. Besides, it was him who told me to name anything. 

By the time I woke up today– my list was finished. It wasn't really much… um… okay fine! fine! It was a lot, but what did you expect, Dia? The cost of forgiveness is a heavy fine to pay.

Making my way to the dining with my most appealing smile on, I waved a good morning to Henry, grumbled the same to Felicia and then facing Dad, I greeted him "good morning" with the most graceful voice I could manage. I watched with that teasing smile still plastered on my face as his gaze lifted from the screen of his laptop to me.

When his gaze met mine, I greeted him again and almost laughed as he looked behind him to see if there was anyone there cause clearly I couldn't be greeting the same man I yelled to take his sorry ass out of my room.

Even Felicia was stunned still by the greeting. Henry, seated beside dad, froze with his mouth wide open, his teeth inches from the sandwich raised to it. 

Still keeping it cool, I went by my activities, occasionally sneaking glances at dad who still hadn't recovered from the shock of my greeting. I knew it was just a matter of time. Dad was a clever man. His many years of business dealings have sort of made him an expert in human relations. Simply put, he could read the hidden messages behind an expression or a gesture. 

Carefully recollecting himself, he asked,

"And what exactly do you want, Anna? You can cut the civility, I know you… you want something."

I had been sipping my coffee when he spoke, my face a mask of neutrality, and I continued sipping like I had all the time in the world. Gently setting the mug down, I artlessly answered,

"Oh dear daddy, what makes you think I want something? Can't a girl greet her dad anymore?"

The looks I got from the three of them was enough answer that they knew it was all bull. Making me wonder, am I really that easy to read, … so predictable? 

"You forget that I've dealt with more people than you can count, so save our time and get to your demands, underneath the smiles and gesture, it is there so out with it."

I had wanted to shrug but that serious expression on his face meant he wasn't playing my games, so with their eyes following my every move, I retrieved the folded paper in the front pocket of my jeans. Crossing the distance sluggishly, I handed it to Dad and backed away to the counter.

Felicia and Henry crowded in to catch a glimpse of my usual list. It didn't take long for their facial expressions to change. For their eyes to pop out and for color to drain from Felicia's face. Not surprisingly, all dad did was to swallow again and again as his eyes traveled the length of my list.

My smile remained as I watched them, reading their expressions and taking in their shock. The list wasn't more than a 5.5 by 8.5 paper, yet it seemed to take them forever to read. Finally, dad refolded the paper and reclined on his seat. 

"Surely you are not considering this… tell me you are not deliberating this ridiculous demands…" Felicia had wanted to say more but at dad's raised index, she fell silent. Even Henry wasn't permitted to utter a word. Never have I ever seen my dad in his business role, he sat reclined, a finger from his right hand to his mouth, fingers on his left tapping periodically at his lap, his gaze very far away… He sat contemplating like he was about to sign a contract or close a huge deal. 

Silence hung thickly and breaths held as he brooded. Even my second mug of coffee hung suspended on my lips, its creamy content barely making its way down my throat. 

After what stretched like forever, his far away gaze gave in to a more normal one, and they rested upon me. They bored at me as if taking in every inch of me. It was very uncomfortable, but I managed to hold his gaze, my smile turning into a loopsided grin and my carriage – cool and unwavering. Even with my insides– liquid, I stood tall. 

That was all we did, staring each other down until Felicia left for work and Henry left for school. As soon as the door latched, dad burst into laughter, a rich deep sound that aroused happiness in me. Together, we laughed and laughed until our faces turned scarlet, our ribs quivered in their cage and our besides hurt.

Then dad really looked at me and said,

"You know, I've always waited for you to do something like this. For you to return to that confident and sassy girl I used to know… it was just a matter of time. Let me go and change, then we can go get you a car… but you have to promise me one thing…"

"Anything, just name it" I replied, unable to keep a hold on my enthusiasm.

"I know you won't like it, but Henry has to be riding with you… that's the condition."

In honesty, I expected this, and I had no problem with it, but that doesn't mean I would just sheepishly agree, so I tried to persuade him otherwise. He remained resolute and I finally gave in.

In the next ten minutes, we were making our way to the car dealership in the next town. I was riding in the front with dad, and it reminded me of those days. It had been when I was thirteen, he had taught me how to drive. At first, I refused to make progress because I was very much pissed at him, but in spite of my attitude and indifference. He remained patient, putting up with me until the thrill of the whole thing swayed me otherwise.

For weeks, he taught and I learned. It was the most fun we've ever had together since mom's demise and I thought that period could change everything until he left when I mastered the steering wheel of an automobile. He just left like those weeks of laughter and happiness didn't happen and that had fueled my hatred for him. And tainted that memory.

My eagerness and enthusiasm slouched as I remembered that this man sitting beside me had done something that cruel. I sagged back on my seat and let my eyes wander at the sights we sped across. I didn't expect that he would remember, but as he placed his free hand on my lap and said,

"I know this reminds you of those times, but you have to understand, I never meant to hurt you. I just couldn't stay… not when your eyes, your lips, your face, your expressions… and everything about you screams her. It was hard spending all that time with you when all I could see was her, so I left as soon as you… well, became a pro." I knew he did. 

The last sentence was to relieve the tension and the weight of his words, but I didn't care. It wasn't my fault that I looked like mom. How could he blame his absence on me… on my appearance? It was simply ridiculous and downright pathetic. If he ever wants a shot at my forgiveness, he would have to do more than his lame excuses and take full responsibility for his actions. Therefore, I gently removed his hand from my lap and said with my eyes still looking out the window,

"Let's just get this over with."

To my surprise, he slowed down, and before I could protest, he was already packing by the side of the road. When I demanded an explanation, he said while unlatching his seatbelt,

"You hate me, that's fine, but I still don't want to see you dead, so why don't you show me that you haven't forgotten all I taught you and drive us the rest of the way, unless you have become rusty…"

Oh no, he didn't just call me rusty. I knew he said it to get me to agree, but he just poked the bear and there are consequences. Slamming the door hard as I sat behind the steering wheel, I turned on the ignition, and before he could finish latching his seatbelt, we were already on the road again. I didn't slow down even as his knuckles turned white from gripping the grab handle too tight and his face leeched of color. He asked for it and he was getting it. Whoever pokes the bear should be ready to face it when the bear rises. 

At dad's scare and that electrifying feeling of being behind the wheels. That excitement of being in charge, of being the one behind the functioning of this great mechanism, I felt alive. As I rolled down the glass and the wind played with my hair, I couldn't help but laugh. It felt truly amazing and before long dad joined in the laughter. I only slowed down when we heard the sirens trailing behind us.

Like the respectable citizens that we were, we packed and addressed the cops. Well, dad addressed the cops. It went quite well actually that at the end both parties were laughing and shaking hands. Dad had told them that he made me angry some days ago, and I decided to get back at him by scaring the crap out of him. Seeing him handle the cops like they were his clients reminded me of why I used to admire him. There was something about his personality that agrees with people. He doesn't even have to try for people to agree and obey.

In spite of the speeding ticket issued to us, dad still allowed me to drive us to the dealership. There were so many cars that making a choice was like picking a gem out of diamonds. Each choice was bettered by another a few packs down. But when I saw her… I knew. Daze, as I have named her, is a bright red Mazda MX-5 Miata. Sleek. Stylish. Flashy. Attention-grabbing and perfect. I had requested a decal on her sides, nothing too elaborate, just fiery graffiti of her name in gold.

While they worked on the papers and her decal, dad insisted we return. I didn't like the idea, because I clearly wanted to take Daze on a spin, but he had promised that before 2pm, it would be packed in the front yard. The drive back was mundane. I slept while dad drove.

We got back around 1pm and to my surprise, dad handed me his credit card for my wardrobe change. Well, it wasn't really a surprise, since clothes and accessories were on my list, but the credit card and a wardrobe change. That was the surprise. He told me to shop as much as I liked and if I had friends, I was free to take them along.

I didn't really have friends and I can't call Michelle– my friend, since she was closer to her own friends than with me. It's not really her fault, it's mine entirely. As they say, friendship is a two-way street but in our case, only Michelle was setting the bricks. I, on the other hand, occasionally added a brick or two. 

Yet, I called her because going shopping alone wasn't ideal. I think it's even breaking the girls' code. Together we had gone on a shopping spree. We tried a lot of outfits, purchased from different brands. At the end of it all, I returned with about fifteen bags of clothes and accessories. Michelle, on the other hand, left with five bags after profusely thanking dad and giving me an earful of wanting to be me.

Again I'm looking at the bags laying at the foot of my closet. I have yet to unpack them and I don't feel as enthusiastic as before. It's been so long since I was that girl. Can I even be that girl again? Can I play the part? Do I still know how to do the walk? Can I still revel in the attention my presence would draw?

I don't have any answers to my questions, even Daze gleaming under the lights of the garage did little to deter my fears. The clothes, accessories and the car were enough to make an unforgettable appearance, but could I manage it? Or will I err and truly make it an unforgettable appearance? 

This will be a step towards becoming the version of myself mom had in mind. I just have to pull it off. I have to reach for that confidence I once flaunted, have to search deep within myself for those attributes that made me… me.

It would help to be on time tomorrow, so I must retire early even though I know it would take quite a while before sleep wraps it's blanket around me. Another reason to go to bed on time.

Hoping that tomorrow bodes well, goodnight, Dia.