Vol. 7, Chapter XVII — Hearts and Heavy Talks

Hearing the sound of the front door clicking open, I lift my head and push myself up, Abby’s limp arms sliding from around my shoulders. I manage to catch them and set them crossed over her belly as I sit up over her, fixing my hair, trying to listen to the sounds of the house while Abby breaths and whimpers under me and my own breathing steadies up.

“Looks like Dad arrived,” I tell her in a whisper, kissing the tip of her nose as she needs the mouth to breathe.

I slide off the bed and grab something to put on before moving to face the mirror and fix my hair while Abby observes me from bed. When satisfied, I go back to her, looming over my wife with both hands supporting my body over the bed.

“So, I’ll bring you one bowl of muesli with a chocolate protein pudding, a banana and a water bottle. Anything else?” I ask, smiling at her.

She produced a whimper and shook her head, so I just giggled and bent down the rest of the way to kiss her lips this time.

I closed the door behind me once I stepped out of the bedroom and found Dad sat on his seat with Oliver sat in the middle of the couch, TV remote by him, our cat long having stopped pretending that he doesn’t watch telly. Dad was with the red scarf Sophie had given him loosely wrapped around his shoulders, one hand playing with one point while the other rubbed the cheek he had been kissed by her. He was staring into the void and had a little startle when I called out to him and asked if everything is fine.

“Yes, yes, everything is ok,” he told me as he sat up straighter. “Just lost in thoughts.”

“…Right,” I say, still standing in place by the couch. I then walked to the kitchen while thinking if I should as how it went with Sophie. “So, how did it go with Sophie? You guys enjoyed the coffee?”

That was the best I could do as to not call it a date, which… which it was, wasn’t it? Feels like one anyway.

Hmm… bombón coffee… there’s an idea.

Dad began talking about the coffee as if trying to avoid talking about everything else surrounding it. It got me squinting a little as I brew a cup for Abby.

“And did Sophie like it?” I ask as I poured in condensed milk into the cup.

“She did, yes. She really liked it and seemed very happy that she got to try it.”

Yeah, no, she was happy that she got a Valentine’s date with you, you obtuse man!

Despite my thought, I kept a poker face, and even if I didn’t, he was avoiding looking at me, so there’s no point in arguing how successful I was or not.

“Well, good for you two,” I say, standing with the tray of food and drinks for Abby by the couch, looking at him and pondering what to do next.

“How’s your Valentine’s Day doing?” he asks me, genuine interest mixed with wanting to change subjects.

“Good, in case it wasn’t obvious,” I tell him, lifting the tray in my hands as a proof of that. “Abby and I are taking it easy today.”

I look at him for a bit longer before walking away, having made a decision.

I step inside the bedroom and close the door with the heel of my foot before handing over the tray of food to Abby, kissing her again, now that she had recovered enough that it didn’t look like she was dying.

“Wait, did you make me bombón coffee!?” she chirped, all excited as she saw the layers against the backlight. Her hand was still shaking so much that I thought she’d spill it all over the bed at any moment.

“I figured you’d need that,” I told her chuckling as I opened the window to let some fresh air in.

I then sat by her on the edge of the bed and told her about how Dad was acting while Abby ate, the spoon clinking on the bowl each and every time she got a spoonful of cereal and pudding.

“So, what’s the plan?” she asked me as she licked the spoon. “Because you have that face you do when you’ve decided something and it’s a bit of a pain in the butt.”

“I… I’m going to talk to him,” I told her. “Not that he should try giving Sophie a chance or that he should start looking for someone, just see where his head is at. Ok, maybe I’ll end up telling him that he should consider start giving romance a chance again, if the conversation goes there, but that’s the most I’m going to do.”

Abby’s eyes drifted upwards as she licked the spoon again, taking a moment to think about it.

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” she hummed as she looked back to me. “He stayed single all this time because of you, so if there’s someone who can get him to start opening up to romance, that’s you.”

“Haah, it is, isn’t it?” I grumbled as I pinch the bridge of my nose. “This is what I get for being the ‘Mumma’ of everyone, right?”

“So, you do admit to it?” Abby giggled, sounding a bit out of breath. “Well, go on then. I’ll still be here, my legs still not working not being the sole damning factor.”

I gave Abby another kiss, this one tasting of salt and chocolate, and left the bedroom again. I didn’t know what I was going to say exactly, but if my life with Abby taught me anything, it is that words seem to find me even if I can’t find them.

“…Yes, darling?” Dad asked after I stared at him for a bit, not wanting to startle him and still looking for something to say.

“Dad, I want to talk with you,” I told him as I came to sit by Oliver, moving the remote to his other side and giving his head a rub that he seemed to appreciate a lot. “Since today’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Ah,” he said after a bit, shifting in his chair to straighten up, but this time, he wasn’t fidgeting. “What do you want to talk about?”

“…For starters… Didn’t you ever, ever, considered finding someone? Was there really never someone who caught your eye?” I asked, now moving to the other side of Oliver so I sat closer to Dad, making me move the position of the remote again, Oliver shooting an annoyed glare at me. “Sorry for prying, but I feel like if I don’t ask this now, it will be thirty years before you consider these things.”

“Can’t say that I had, no, on both of your questions. Between working and raising you, there really wasn’t much time for anything else.”

“Yes, I know that… and I’m thankful, truly, I am, but… but Abby will be eighteen next month and I the month after, and it’s only four or five months for us to graduate high school… you’ve also been having a higher paying job for a while now and I’ve been independent for years too, so…”

“…So you think it’s more than time already for me to start looking for someone new,” he says in a grave tone, concluding my thoughts.

“Yes, Dad… look, I know you loved Mum. That you still love her, but…” I pause because what I’m about to say is going to hurt a lot. “But if I were to die today, tomorrow, whenever… I wouldn’t want Abby to never find someone else. A part of me does, a very egotistical part, but if I had to be forced to say how long she’d have to wait, I’d never ask for more than three years. Preferably just one. I’m sure Mum would tell you the same… It’s been over ten years.”

Dad’s face did something weird. Then, he jerked his head as he took a sharp breath. Then I saw it. His eyes were starting to get wet. Then, tears began running.

That was the strangest thing to see, my Dad crying. I’m sure he cried when Mum died, but I couldn’t remember it, so this was the first time ever for me.

“Ok, sweety,” he sobbed before snorting. “Ok… Thanks for telling me that.”

Seeing him like that… it was heartbreaking.

I got up and moved closer to him. I leaned and hugged him as I kissed his face.

“I love you, Dad,” I chocked before pulling away and leaving him to his grief.

My legs felt like lead, and my chest hurt, but… but it felt like a good pain.

“How did it go?” Abby asked the moment I stepped inside the bedroom, her hands on my arms, her legs shaking under her.

I chuckled a sob as I told her to sit down before her legs gave up. Once she was back in bed, I climbed in and curled up by her legs, head on her lap. Abby took off my glasses and set them on the table and began patting my hair as she asked again, softly this time, how it had gone.

I buried my face on her lap as I told her everything, Abby not once stopping the head pats, and once I was done, she only had to tell me one thing for me to feel better.

“You did good, Violet,” she told me, her voice cracking up a bit with emotion. “You did very good.”

I had a good cry as I clung to my wife, and I took my time with it. When I was finally done, I lifted my head and she placed the glasses back on my face.

“You look awful,” she snickered.

“Shut up,” I told her as I rubbed an eye. “I know it already.”

She giggled and stared down to her lap for a moment before she spoke up again, her voice soft and low.

“I want the same for you, you know? If something happens to me… please, don’t just shut yourself and find someone new.”

I looked at her, my heart and mind thinking about what she said. There was however one single answer to what she just told me.

“That won’t be an issue,” I told her, as firmly as my sulking and shyness allowed while I pulled her into a tight hug. “You and I are going to live past ninety, and when one of us dies, the other one will die too in three months or less.”

“Pfft, hehe! Because we are so in love and clingy?” she asked as she squirmed.

“Exactly because of that,” I huffed as I nuzzled her hair.