Small fingers are curled around her blanket as she lies there with her body sprawled across the bed. No matter how many times he puts the blanket over her it always ends up twisted under her. He breaths quietly watching her sleep in the semi-darkness of the nightlight. Looking out the window it is still black but he knows it is just a matter of time before the pink will start to creep up the sky. Returning to the computer he sits restlessly returning inane e-mails his students have sent him. No matter how much he tries to concentrate on his work his mind keeps returning to his young daughter in the other room. As if she can feel his mind he hears her start to complain, not quite a cry but he knows it means she will be up soon. With one last look at the computer he makes his way into the kitchen. He stands next to the refrigerator contemplating breakfast options: Honey nut cheerios, Eggo Waffles, toast, yogurt, or oatmeal?
He is stumped. He feels a tug on his shirt.
“Daddy, need make shi shi. Daddy, gotta go,” she says with her arms up and her eyes begging to be carried.
He quickly picks her up and rushes her to the bathroom. Just in time.
“I love you Daddy.”
She climbs up on her stool and washes her hands, using way too much soap as usual. “Hungry Daddy. Breakfast.”
“Me, too, honey. What should we eat?”
She grabs his hand with her still wet fingers and leads him towards the kitchen past the now pink and orange window as the sun has finally made its appearance.
“What do you want for breakfast baby girl?”
“Blueberries!” she says while pointing at the craisins.
“With oatmeal?” he asks her.
“No.”
“With oatmeal,” he tells her while nodding his head.
“No!”
“No oatmeal, no blueberries.”
She doesn’t speak but just kind of nods her head before climbing up a chair.
He cooks up some instant oatmeal in the microwave adding a handful of craisins at the end.
“Here you go honey,” he says with a smile while inside his head he is praying she will eat it.
He sits down with his own oatmeal and watches her equally distribute the oatmeal between her mouth and her shirt. “Can I feed you, Honey?”
“No!”
“Baby girl, Daddy has to get dressed for work. When you finish eating can you go brush teeth and find clothes for school?” He flashes back to the movie Big Daddy and hopes that she has better taste than Frankenstein.
She nods at him while still slurping her oatmeal down.
He wanders into his room and sits down at the computer. He opens up his e-mail and stares at the message he has been composing for a week now:
Hey Lucy thanks again for the visit last month it really helped out around the house and Lilian really liked playing with her cousin Rose. I’ve been thinking some more about your suggestion to have Lilian come out and stay with you for a while. I really appreciate it because work has been really hard since Samantha passed. Maybe she could stay with you guys just until summer break? Only thing that is hard is her school since you are on the Mainland. Does Rose go to a good pre-school? Well let me know. Peter
He looks at the screen as he scrolls the mouse over to send. At the last second the cursor swerves to the right and he clicks on save draft instead. No need to decide right now. How has it gotten to this place? Just a few months ago they were so happy and now here he is stressed out and contemplating if he is really the best person to raise Lilian. He looks over at the clock. No time to worry about it now. He quickly undresses down to his boxers. As he walks to the closey he can’t help but stop and stare at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t look much different. His frame is still slim but then again that’s why he wears loose athletic clothing that hides the few extra pounds. Unfortunately he hasn’t figured out a way to hide his growing forehead or the large bags under his eyes. He needs more sleep but between Lilian and work there just aren’t enough hours in the day. He opens up the closet door and picks out a black aloha shirt, decorated with maile leis, and khaki pants.
“Daddy!” she shouts from the bathroom.
He pulls his shorts back on and jogs to the bathroom.
She is sitting in a bubble filled sink, naked, brushing her teeth.
“Honey, what are you doing?” he tries to stay calm, but it comes out as a half strangled shout.
‘All clean daddy,” she says dropping the toothbrush and clapping her hands.
He roughly yanks her out of the sink by her arm.
“Ouchy, Daddy. Ouchy,” she says pointing at her arm.
He can see the start of tears in her eyes. Damn it I don’t have time for this crap, he thinks to himself while trying to find a towel to dry her off with. He puts her down in her room and grabs one out of the hamper. He gives it a quick smell test before he starts to dry her off.
“I do!”
“Fine you do,” he says giving her the towel. He turns to her drawers and pulls out a brown and pink t-shirt that says CUTE on the front. He digs around in her pants drawer before finding some jeans that will work. He lays them all out on the bed with a fresh pair of panties.
“Daddy is going to get dressed now. When you are dry put on these clothes.”
He stumbles back into his room and pulls on the slightly rumpled outfit he chose earlier. “Just one morning where everything goes well is all I ask,” he half prays, half complains under his breath.
“Where mommy? I love you mommy,” she says loudly in her room.
He walks towards her room but pauses at the door to watch her as she sits, still naked, in front of a picture montage.
“Sister, Mommy, Sister, Mommy, Sister Katrina, Mommy Sam,” she says quietly as she presses her chubby fingers onto the pictures of her Mommy and Sister. Then she looks up and says, “I love my Mommy and Sister.”
He walks into the room and sits down next to her giving her a half hug, “I love you, muchkin.”
“I love Daddy too,” she says giving him a squeeze. “Where Mommy and Sister?”
“Remember what Father James said honey?”
She nods solemnly, “he say they in better place. Right Daddy?”
“That’s right honey.”
“But my friends at pre-school say Mommy and Sister dead,” she says with tears forming tiny jewels in her eyelashes.
He pulls her in close and starts to rock her in his lap, “Mommy and Sister had an accident and now they are in a better place. Some people might say they are dead but for us they will always be right here,” he taps her chest while trying to hide how close to tears he is.
“Daddy, I have Fruit snack in the car?”
“Yes honey you can have fruit snack in the car,” he replies while pulling her clothes on. “Okay go put on your slippahs so we can go!” his voice breaks slightly as he holds back tears trying not to cry in front of her. He slowly stands up and walks to the kitchen to get the fruit snack.
The car ride is uneventful as she munches her fruit snack and he listens to sports radio. As he pulls into the parking lot he says to her, “Okay we are at daddy’s school.”
“Not! This my school.”
“Are you sure?”
“My school!” she screams and starts to cry.
Shit that didn’t go right. She used to love that game. Always saying no, not daddy’s school, Lilian’s school. Another piece of the past lost.
“I don’t wanna go school. I wanna stay home with mommy!”
He climbs out of the car and walks to her door. He quickly takes off the complicated seat-belt and tugs her out of the seat. She gets stuck half in and half out with her fingers tightly gripping the seatbelt.
“Lilian, it is time for school. Let go and come on!” he says in his best dad voice.
“No school. Take me home,” she says through the sobs.
He finally jerks her out of the seat and heads into the school.
“Hi Lilian,” her teacher, Mrs. Grey, says cheerfully.
“She is a little grumpy this morning.”
“I see that,” she says as she gently grasps Lilian and pries her fingers away from his neck.
“Bye baby, I will see you this afternoon,” he says while flying a kiss.
She doesn’t say anything as she sobs on Mrs. Grey’s shoulder.
The drive to the windward side only takes a few minutes and he takes it as an opportunity to just glaze over and listen to the radio tell him about the Warriors. He parks and shuffles up the stairs feeling like he is sleepwalking.
“Good morning everyone, “he says to his class in his best fake cheerful voice.
“Morning Professor S,” a few respond while most fiddle with their phones.
“Okay phones away and books out.”
“I forgot my book,” a girl in the front says. “Can I read the kindle version on my phone?”
“No, I’m sorry but there are no phones or computers allowed in class.”
She slowly puts her phone away and he swears she rolls her eyes at him but he can’t be sure.
“Is it okay if I look on with Mariah?” she asks while gesturing at her neighbor.
“That is fine,” he says, “Now I repeat phones away and books out.”
He watches as they grudgingly slide phones out of sight and pull out mostly brand new copies of Rolling the R’s by R. Zamora Linmark. He takes out his tattered copy and says, “Open your books up to page 22. We are discussing Kalihi in Farrah today.”
“Why we gotta talk about that Fag for?” says one of the boys in the back.
“That is not an appropriate word Chester. We are discussing how...” he stops mid-speech as Chester brazenly pulls out his cell phone and starts to text. “Chester!”
“Yeah?” he says looking up but not putting his phone away.
“Get the Fuck out of my class! I have to be nice to my own kid but not you brats! This is the last fucking time you are going to disrespect me,” he says as he walks back to where Chester is sitting and wrenches him up and out of his seat.
“Hey you can’t touch me like this,” Chester says in a whiny voice.
He pushes Chester out of the room and looks back at the class, “Anyone else feel like texting?”
He spends the next hour lecturing to a very quiet class about gender identity and societal pressure. As soon as the clock strikes 9:30 the students make a dash for the door whispering to each other furiously.
He slowly packs his things up and marches over to his office. He finds an e-mail waiting for him, flagged high importance. He knows even as he opens it that it is about his outburst. Fuck it, he thinks as he hits the power button on his computer. He looks down at his watch, 3:00 PM, still two hours before he has to get the kid. He quickly throws a few books into his bag and heads out towards the campus bar.
The bar is one of the quirky things about this campus that he loves. How many other campuses have a full service bar, dead center on campus, next to the library? He didn’t know the answer but he had been curious enough to Google it before. He also loved the bar because it felt like Cheers, everybody knew his name. Not only did they know his name but he felt like at the bar they actually respected him for being a Professor, unlike the department where everybody knew he wasn’t tenure track.
He walked in the door and nodded to Donald who was working the bar.
“Hey Professor S. How are you today,” Donald says while filling a glass with Crown Royal and ice.
“Not too bad D. Pretty much the same old, same old,” he replies hoping that the lie comes out smooth.
He grabs the cup throwing down a ten and starts to sip. I wonder if Lilian would be happy in Seattle with her aunty? She really did get along with Rose and Seattle is a great place to live. But can I handle not having her here? He picks up his drink, finishes it and orders another.
“You sure you’re okay prof?” Donald asks as he slides him the fourth whiskey double in the last thirty minutes.
“Yeah, yeah everything is fine,” he slurs slightly. “Just have a lot on my mind and need a break.”
“Well you usually only have one or maybe two,” Donald says doubtfully.
He quickly downs the drink. “Well maybe life isn’t perfect but I’m not gonna complain. I’m alive after all,” he says slurring badly.
“Yes you are….”
“I mean I could be dead. My Wife is dead. My daughter is dead. I could be dead,” he interrupts Donald, speaking slowly and deliberately.
“Sir should I call some….”
“Nope. I’m fine,” he says abruptly, while dropping two twenties down onto the bar.
“I don’t…”
He doesn’t hear the rest as he turns his back on Donald and walks carefully out the door. He pays special attention to every step as he walks to his car. He climbs in and slowly puts the car into reverse not really paying attention he unwraps a piece of gum and pops it into his mouth. The loud beep of his back-up sensors breaks him out of his reverie. He slams the breaks and stops just in front of a pole. Get a hold of yourself Peter; you can’t afford an accident right now. He slides the transmission into drive and carefully cruises off. He hops onto the H3 and puts the car on cruise control at exactly the speed limit, careful to hold the wheel straight. As he drives up the mountain his brain wanders and he remembers how excited his wife was the first time she got to climb the stairway to heaven. He had told her she was fucking nuts to want to climb up the side of a mountain. She didn’t care though. She knew he was just blustering and sure enough they had both climbed those steps. That was their relationship, do everything together. No matter how crazy he thought she was he did it and vice-versa.
He looks up and realizes that he has been so lost in thought he has made it all the way up and down the mountain. He swerves to the right just in time to make the Stadium exit. He unwraps two more pieces of gum chewing them furiously as he drives closer and closer to Lilian’s school.
He looks at the school as he pulls up to the front. It stands out in this island neighborhood with its dirt red brick exterior reminiscent of some Ivy League University. It is three stories high and the children walking out of the front with their parents are all dressed in matching khaki bottoms and navy blue polo shirts. Every now and again he spots the distinctive grey t-shirt and blue shorts of the preschool students. He parks in a corner of the parking lot and spits out his gum, quickly replacing it with a fresh piece.
The front door is easily ten feet tall and made completely of oak. It is very intimidating. He pulls on the handle and the door smoothly glides open. He looks down the long hall lined with matching metal lockers. At the end he sees the after school check-out desk. He walks slowly towards the desk. Breathing in and out, centering himself.
“Hello, Mr. Sellas,” the young lady working the desk says to him.
“Hi,” he pauses and tries to read her name tag, “Cathy.”
“Can I have Lilian from the Preschool class to the front please,” she says into her walkie-talkie.
“Are you okay, Mr. Sellas?”
Before he can answer his attention is caught by his reflection in the glass case behind her. He is shocked to see his eyes red rimmed and bloodshot. “I’m fine, Cathy. Just a little tired from a long day at work,” he says to her.
She looks at him doubtfully and then turns slightly away from him while muttering something into her walkie.
“Mr. Sellas,” a female voice says from behind him.
He turns around and sees the Principal. “Mrs. Nathaniel, so nice to see you,” he says forcing his voice to be calm and even.
“How are you doing?” she asks, her eyes doing a very obvious inventory of his red eyes, un-tucked shirt, and overall sloppy look.
“As good as can be expected considering,” he replies trying to put every ounce of sadness behind the sentence.
“That’s good. You and Lilian are constantly in our prayers for your loss.”
“Thank you. You and the school are in ours for your support,” he replies, his voice taking on a certain sharpness.
“Daddy!”
He looks up just as Lillian comes racing past the desk and slams into his leg.
“Hi honey. I hope you had a good day at school,” he says to Lilian while looking at the Principal.
“Home now Daddy. Bye School,” Lilian says.
They walk hand in hand down the hall and out the door.
“Carry,” she says looking up.
He picks her up and slings her onto his hip carrying her with one hand while he uses the other to hit the unlock button on his keys. He quickly plops her onto her car seat.
“Can you click honey?” he asks while sliding her arms into the straps and almost closing the latch.
“No.”
He closes it for her. Another ritual lost to the past. Before she would click every time but in the five months since her mom and sister’s accident she has refused.
The drive home is quiet as they listen to a kids CD tell whitewashed versions of Grimm’s fables. She gives him no trouble going up the stairs, or at dinner, or even in the bath. She is his little angel again.
“Okay honey, pick your stories for bed time.”
“I have three books?”
“Three is fine,” he says with a smile.
She comes to bed carrying Skippy John Jones, Where the Wild Things Are, and How the Grinch Stole Christmas.
“Those are great books.”
They settle in together, snuggling into each other and the pillows. He opens Wild Things and starts flipping to the first page.
“Stop daddy. What that?” she asks pointing at a handwritten note at the front of the book.
“For Katrina on her 3rd birthday. Love Mom and Dad,” he reads, his voice cracking.
“Sister’s book?” she asks, looking at him with questions in her eyes.
“It was. She would want you to have it.”
“No. Sister’s book. Where sister?”
“Remember she is gone. She is in a better place.”
“I want sister! I want mommy!” she screams at him.
“I can’t…”
She interrupts him with her little fists, pounding his arm as she chants, “sister, mommy, sister, mommy…”
He stands up and walks away. I can’t handle this shit. Why did she leave me? He thinks as he walks to the porch. He looks down the three stories to the street below. Lilian can always go with Lucy. She doesn’t need me. Sam doesn’t need me anymore. Nobody really needs me.
“God, why did you take her and leave me? What the hell am I supposed to do now?” he asks, while looking up at the sky. His gloom quickly getting fiery as anger replaces it. “Well are you going to answer me?” he screams up at the sky. “Fuck it, nobody up there gives a damn about me! Come on God! Come on Samantha! Just tell me why I shouldn’t just jump and join you already?”
Just as he says this he feels a light touch on his lower back and whirls around, “what?!”
“Daddy. I sorry daddy. Sorry daddy,” Lilian says as she buries her face in his shorts rubbing her tears off on the silky material.
“No baby you don’t have to be sorry. Daddy is sorry. So very, very sorry.”
“I love daddy,” she says looking up at him with her tear streaked face,
“I love you too baby,” he replies, realizing that this is his sign. Lilian is his reason for living. This little piece of them still survives and needs him. He lives for her. No way can she go to Lucy. She is his rock and always will be. “I love you so much Lilian,” he says with tears flowing freely down his face to drip on her upturned little cheeks.
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