REprisal - Kathy Coopmans Page 0,44
along with me. I miss my daughter, but right now, I need to be a little girl; I need my dad.
“My sweet girl. Stop crying. Please.”
He shushes me, comforting me just like he did when I when I would fall off my bike as a kid, or the first time I had to get a filling in my tooth. I cling to him just as tightly now as I did then.
“Let me take a look at you.”
I shake my head back and forth but otherwise, I keep myself still. I’m not ready to let go of him. An overpowering sensation of guilt, embarrassment, and shame devours me. I don’t know what I will see when he looks at me. Will he hate me for the things that I have done as much as I hate myself? Will he blame me or blame himself?
“Sweetheart, please let me look at you. I’m right here, honey. Dad is right here, but I need to see you, really see you.”
The strength in the way he speaks has me gradually lifting my head off of his shoulder, my head cast down, wringing my hands in my lap.
“Hey, let your old man see that pretty face,” he says, using the silly voice he always used when he thought he was saying something funny.
I reach for a tissue to wipe my sodden cheeks. Tears still sting my eyes. I’ve cried so much in the past few hours, I’m surprised I have any left.
“There she is,” he says with fondness.
I avoid looking straight at my dad. Instead, I roll over on my side and look out the window. The sun is up now shining brightly in the sky, though the dregs of the past twenty-four hours are fresh.
“I’m so sorry, Dad.”
I cringe lower in the bed, pulling the covers up to my chin.
“Oh, honey. I’m not sure what you think you’re sorry for. None of this is your fault. And besides, we’re not going to talk about anything right now except for the fact that I have missed you so much. And I am so glad you’re home.”
I don’t want to talk about it, either. None of it. Ever. I know I will have to soon, though. I will have to relive every damn thing, from the very beginning.
I feel my dad get up and look over my shoulder to watch him. He grabs the back of the chair in the corner, turning it to face me. Not saying a word, he flips the covers off of me and reaches for my hand.
A sad smile sweeps across his face.
“Now there she really is.”
He brushes some hair back from my face. I smile back. He looks the same, but different. He’s aged. More wrinkles adorn the corners of his eyes. He looks shaken, which you rarely see.
“You okay, Dad?” I ask worriedly.
His troubled expression disappears in an instant.
“I am now that you’re here.”
“I have a strange question to ask,” I blurt out, humiliated to say the least that I even have to ask.
“You can ask me anything, you know that.”
“What day is it?” I whisper.
His Adam’s apple bobs up and down and I can tell he is trying to hold back from losing it, to be strong for me.
“It- it’s Wednesday, July fifteenth.”
“Oh, wow. So I’ve been gone for a little over a year, then. I missed your birthday, and Nolan’s, and-”
“Clove, stop! This isn’t something we need to discuss right now, not when I want to hear all about my new granddaughter.”
His entire face lights up when he brings up Journey, which makes mine, too.
“Have you seen her? Is she all right? She’s probably so hungry and so scared. I should probably call the nurse and feed her.”
I sit up in bed and search for the call button. My dad places his hand over the top of mine to stop me.
“She’s fine. Melody and I just saw her and Krista has been with her the whole time.”
A sense of peace rushes through me knowing my sister-in-law hasn’t left Journey’s side, just like she promised. Swallowing hard, I shut my eyes and try to consider what I want to ask next. I know the doctor told me he’s concerned about my mental state. I’m worried, too, but more about Journey than myself.
“She looks so much like you when you were a baby,” says my dad. “When I first saw her, it took me back to the first time I held you in my arms. My perfect little angel. It