Daddy

I was never a violent person. I never prayed to God to strike his wrath on a particular person before this man walked in my life once more. I was fine with him gone, never coming back. I didn't care if he was swimming in money, I was happy with him staying where the hell he was. I was hurt that he left in the first place but I got over it. I didn't want him back. I didn't want him here especially in a time like, a time in which our family was at its weakest.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I barked at my father.

The man had the nerves to get mad at my attitude. His disgusting smile disappeared and gave place to a deep frown and disapproving look.

"Se konsa ou pale a papa w' devan menaj ou?" He demanded like he still had the rights to yell at me.

"What did he say?" Irene whispered in my ear. "Is he talking about me?"

I had nearly forgotten about her being in the room. Her sweet breath tickled my ears, melting back my rage into profound love for the woman. I blinked back the happy feeling in order to hold on to the anger and pain I can use to hit this man. A few seconds ago, her appearance had filled every dark corners in my soul with pure happiness but the person who followed her crushed it and made fury took over.

I brushed her aside mindlessly. I saw a slight ping of hurt cross her lovely features but I needed her to get away from me right now. I didn't want her to know men like my father. She had enough bad people in her life without me adding mine.

"Why are you here?" I snarled at him.

"I am here to see my son," he uttered. His Haitian accent was so thick that his words were almost incomprehensible.

The man had left his homeland for about twenty two years now and was still incapable to form two consecutive sentences in English. The lazy bump was always more interested in pleasure than anything else. My mother, who came here the same year as him had, attempted to teach him but he preferred chasing skirts.

Why couldn't he suffocate in one?

"He doesn't need you. None of us need you here."

"Kote Esther?" His eyes inspected the room carefully in search of my mother.

"Get out," I yelled under my breath.

I stood mere centimeters away from him with a few inches taller than him. I looked down on him, huffing out my rage. Fire took over my face, my heart busted around with the uncontrollable feeling to protect my family, and my muscles were puffing out to beat this excuse of a man who was my father.

We were having a stand-off in the middle of the room like two cowboys waiting to see which one will draw his gun the quickest and made the fatal shot. The only difference was that the first glance at my father had already killed me.

"Kote m' pran la?" He shook his head as if he was witnessing the greatest disappointment in his life. "Timoun pa respekte paran yo anko?"

"I respect those who respect themselves first," I spat. "You never respected neither yourself nor my mother so you have five seconds to get out of my face or I'm calling the police."

"Joseph," Irene suddenly came in-between us. "Aren't you kind of overreacting? I'm not going to pretend to know what's happening here nor what happened before but he's here now. Isn't all that matters? He's asking for forgiveness."

"Pretty and smart," my father grinned all his teeth at her.

I pulled Irene back towards the back of the room and left her there with a death stare.

"Jo..." she began but I interrupted her.

"Don't, this is not your fight."

I didn't want her involved in this. Knowing my father he was probably going to start acting inappropriate with her. I didn't want her to be in that kind of environment.

When I turned back to my father, he had his hands tucked inside his pants. A smug smile sat on his face. "Where is your mother?"

Speaking of the angel, I thought when I saw my mother opening the door.

Today, she decided on a moss green dress encrusted with white irises around the collar. Her hair was enveloped by a white scarf. The skin on her makeup less face had darkened since the phone call that alerted her of Henry's incident. Her mouth was constantly moving in silent prayers. Her fingers firmly held the rosary in her hands.

"Ritchie!" she gasped in surprise when she finally caught sight of my estranged father.

"Esther," he went in for a hug but I pulled him back by his shirt.

"Get your hands off of her," I shouted. "You can't touch her, you've lost that right years ago."

He pulled away from me, his brows tightly furrowed. "E a madam mwen m'ap pale."

"M' pa madanm ou," Mom corrected him. "Don't call me your wife again. You're the one who walked out on us."

"I am sorry," he took a step closer which I followed.

She looked at me and jerked her head towards the corner where Irene was standing. She was telling me to go to her but I couldn't do it. I couldn't leave her, not when this man was here. My mother was a tough woman but not tough enough to resist the tempting liquor that is love. It was the Achilles' heel of everything that breathed and possessed a heart.

"Joe, it's alright. You don't want to leave the poor girl alone, she looks like she's about to burst into tears at any moment."

In fact she was. Irene's beautiful green irises were now drowning in a pool of blood red liquid. They were looking intensely at the exit door. Her nose was swollen and red just like every other part of her face.

I didn't know what was going through her mind but something told me it was about me and it wasn't good. My heart longed to reach out to her, to find out what exactly what I was missing. However, there was that undeniable part of me which wanted to stay and protect my family. I could only fight one battle at one time so I chose the latter. Irene will still be there after I got rid of my deadbeat dad.

"Henry Pierre's family," a nurse called.

We all turned toward her. She seemed baffled at first at the sudden attention but quickly covered it with perfect professionalism.

"He's awake. You can go see him now but he's still in critical condition so please only family members and no more than two or three at one time." She left us to decide what to do.

My mom went ahead and my father took a step to follow her but I blocked his path.

"She said family members only," I repeated in case he had failed to register the fact that he was no longer part of this family.

"I am his father," he said. He kept throwing the word out there like it was supposed to give him a free pass back into our lives. "I need to see him."

"No, you don't. You haven't seen him for longer than two times his age so why does it suddenly matter? Just because your wife left you doesn't mean you can crawl back to us."

"He's right Ritchie," mom shot her head back inside.

The idiot had the nerves to look wounded. "Esther..."

"Not now, he's sick. You can come back to visit when he's awake and well but not when he's so fragile. Joe, let's go."

I didn't want to unlock my eyes from my father in case he decided to follow us and do something stupid. There was no way he was here for Henry. His divorce had something to do with his sudden reappearance. I wasn't going to be fooled by his fake redemption.

If I didn't move my head a little to relieve a cramp on my neck, I would have forgotten about her. That was how badly his presence was affecting me. It was sucking my good sense and erasing my jovial memories. It was making me resent the best thing that ever happened to me – My relationship with Irene.

The days she wasn't here merged into each other in endless hours of agony and emptiness. I had looked forward for today since the news had come. I actually wanted to run to her when it got to me but I couldn't disrupt her newfound peace. Finding a job worked better than youth lotion on her. In just a few hours she had regained her glow, her carefree smile, and her giddy attitude. I didn't want to take that away from her even though the separation halfway killed me.

Now, she was here and all I wanted to do was shove her in a box and mail her back to the university where I knew she was sheltered away from my family's problems. She didn't need it, she didn't deserve that grief.

"Do you want to go wait at a motel or something?" I asked her, scrubbing at my tired eyes.

"Only if you come with me," she replied. Her honey made hands stroke my tense shoulders which made them knot even worse.

"I can't leave my mother here alone."

"Ok, I'll stay with you."

"You can't," I yelled then quickly dropped my head once I realized what I did.

She flinched away from my touch when I tried to redeem myself with a hug.

I scratched the back of my neck. "I'm sorry. It's all the stress that's getting to me."

My jaw clinched automatically when I saw my dad take a seat by the door, stretching his legs casually.

"I can help. That's why I'm here for."

"I need you to leave."

The words came out harsher than I meant them to. Just looking at my father made every emotion in me wired up. The ground underneath me was shifting, tipping my balance in the wrong side.

"Why?" She put her hands on her hips, her brows pulled up. "Because I'm not family, right?"

"Yes, I mean no. Can you leave now? Please."

"No." She stomped her feet firmly on the ground, squaring her shoulders in defiance. "You were there for me when my world was going under so now it's my turn to offer you the same curtesy."

"Irene, don't make this difficult." I took my wallet out of my pocket and offered her a few bills. "Just go wait somewhere and I will come get you later."

She slapped the money out of my hand. The dark light dancing in her eyes told me I was the real target for the slap.

Why did she had to make everything harder for me? I had done everything to make her feel better for the past weeks, why couldn't she do that one thing for me? Why couldn't she just leave me alone long enough for me to rearrange all of my emotions?

"You really think of me as that weak little girl who can't do anything. I just want to be part of your world. I just want you to see my strength and let me in, let me help." She pushed me out of her way and walked to the door. "When you're ready to see me as a strong woman who you can call family you'll let me know."

I ran a shaky hand over my head. I was losing it. My body fell on a chair while my brain was fuming with neurons shooting in every direction trying to comprehend what had just happened.

My brother got in a car accident. Health insurance was not covering the bills. My stupid father returned. And now Irene was mad.

Such a mess!

It wasn't that I doubted her strength. It was the complete opposite. I knew she was tough. She had proven it when she went from the sheltered little girl to the independent working woman she was now. She was doing it all on her own. I was just a cheerleader providing moral support while she was sprinting for the touchdown.

She was one of the strongest woman I knew and I was proud to have her with me. I just couldn't drag her in the crazy life that was my family. She wasn't ready for that.

____

Translation for those who don't want to google it.

Se konsa ou pale a papa w' devan menaj ou?  ---> That's how you talk to your dad in front of your girlfriend? 

Kote Esther? ---> Where's Esther?

Kote m' pran la? ---> What did I get myself into?

Timoun pa respekte paran yo anko? ---> Children don't respect their parents anymore? 

E a madam mwen m'ap pale. ---> I'm talking to my wife. 

M' pa madanm ou ---> I'm not your wife.  

Thanks, keep reading to find out what's next for Irene and Joseph and don't forget to vote and comment.