What I Can't Recall

"I'll be back around six. Meet me right here. Don't be late!" Sarah commands as Bryler and I hop out of the car. It’s taken us nearly half an hour, but we’ve managed to convince Sarah to drop us off here, at Alfredo’s Italian Kitchen. It’s not exactly the safest-looking part of town, which is why it took us three forevers of insisting to Sarah that we were starving and we just had to eat here.

"Ok, Mom, we won't," Bryler promises, mostly just rambling on and telling her what she wanted to hear. I doubt he even heard what she said, he‘s just focused on getting out of the car and away from Jenny, who has spent the entire car ride talking about how cute ponies are.

"Ok, well see you guys at six. Bye," she calls through the window, looking concerned, as she hesitantly drives away.

After a minute or so of waiting to make sure she’s really gone, Bryler says,
"And now we walk."

It's a surprisingly hot day in Boston. Bryler and I walk slowly down the sidewalk without a word, looking around at all the brick buildings. Even if he said something, I don't think I'd want to talk. I'm enjoying being all alone with my thoughts, for once. The streets seems pretty deserted, but that’s okay. I can’t help but be in a good mood.

I can't believe that this is actually happening. I'm fixing to meet my dad, the one I never even heard talked about when I was a kid. I‘ve never even seen a picture. I'd never tell anyone, but I am one of those girls who never stops dreaming she'll find her parents, no matter how hopeless it may be. Or in this case, parent.

I am trying to not get my hopes up too high; imagine him too wonderful, but I can't help it. I can't help but imagine him as Super Dad. When I picture him in my head, I see a middle aged man with my twinkling blue eyes and dark brown hair. He has a bit of gruff around his face and his hair is an unruly mess. He has kind eyes and looks very wise. He has a warm, bright smile. He has a deep, welcoming voice. I know he'll love me right away. He'll adopt me and move into our old house- which Mom, of course, left me in her will- and we'll be a happy family. It’s the inevitable happy ending that I’ve been waiting for my whole life, even if it is a messed-up kind of version.

After a rough fifteen minutes of walking, I'm so caught up in my thoughts that I almost don't even notice that we've arrived. Almost.

"We're here! We're here!" I shout to the world as I practically dance around Bryler in circles. Suddenly all the hopes that I’ve been telling myself to not get up are exploding out of me and I can’t help but act like a giddy, silly little girl. For once I don’t even care how ridiculous I seem.
"Looks like we are," he says with a laugh, looking a mixture of nervous and concerned and maybe a little bit happy as well. "Do you, uh, want me to go up there with you?"

"Of course, of course. He must know you. You're my best friend!" I say as I grab his hand
and pull him up the steps and onto the stoop.

"Woah, who gave you the insane amounts of caffeine? This is the happiest I've seen you since…" he says; trailing off. But that’s not going to ruin this moment for me. I release Bryler's hand and knock on the door three times.

An middle aged man with neat blonde hair and brown eyes opens the door. He doesn't look quite like I expected... or anything at all like I expected, but he'll do. He has to. He's my dad.

"Can I help you?" He asks; I can tell he's fixing to be late to something since he's all dressed up in a suit. He has a briefcase in his hand, and he looks kind of nervous. I can see a little bit past him into the house; which is pretty nice for the neighborhood. It must be four stories high, though not very wide. The inside is neatly furnished, though there are a few things laying around on the floor. I pay no attention to them, averting my eyes back to Dad.

"Um,” I stall, not exactly sure what to say. Do I come straight out and tell him I’m his daughter, or gradually work my way towards it, or just hint at it and let him piece together the information. “I'm September. September Day.”

"And how can I help you, September?" He asks in a friendly tone, but I can tell it’s fake and that he’s actually kind of annoyed. It’s probably in the job description to be kind to everyone- who knew if they’d end up being interesting in being your client, and in turn, paying you?

"I think you used to know my mom," I say nervously, reaching up and biting my thumb nail. I look over at Bryler and he smiles at my reassuringly, but it doesn‘t really make me feel any better. I bite my nail again.

"Your mo-? Wait, September Day? As in Lynn Day's daughter?" He asks, recognition starting to flood across his face. I drop my hand away from my face, glad he’s pieced things together and made the connection. It makes things easier for me.

"Yeah, that‘d be her. Did you used to know her?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"Well, yeah. We dated for a while. She's the one who encouraged me to go to college," he says, and his kindness started to seem a little more real. “I’ve always meant to tell her thanks for that. She was one of the best things that ever happened to me. You should be proud of your mom, kid. She really is great. Tell her I said thanks, will you?”
Bryler winces, but I do my best not to let it get to me.
"I would and all, but..." I trail off, not able to finish my sentence. I just bite my lip insecurely, hoping he’d been watching the news lately and would remember what had happened at any moment now.

“But?” He prompts, obviously unaware of the incident, seeming genuinely ticked that I refuse to thank my mom for him.

“Her mom’s dead,” Bryler speaks up for me, and I’m torn about whether to be grateful he answered for me, or to be ticked that he said that out loud. Just hearing it tears my heart apart.

Dad’s eyes narrow, looking as if they didn‘t believe him. “And who are you?”

“You probably know my mom, too,” Bryler says, shrugging. “Sarah Carr?“ Recognition crosses Dad’s face once more. “Yeah, anyways, back to Lynn. She was murdered. The Day case? Don’t you watch the news?”

“I’m sorry,” he starts off as soon as he realizes Bryler‘s telling the truth, and I can tell he really means it. Whether it’s about not following the news, about using a harsh tone with me earlier, about bringing it up in the first place, or the fact that Mom’s dead; somehow it doesn’t matter, because I know he means it. “I had no idea. So, is that why you’re here? Some kind of legal thing, figured I’d lend you a favor because we used to go together back in the day-?”

“No, nothing like that,” I say immediately, kind of afraid that that idea would make him mad; like I was just using him.

"Then what?" He asks, starting to look very confused. He reaches up and scratches his head, and whether it’s because he’s confused or because it itches is not apparent to me. I hesitate in answering, and Bryler throws me a look, probably wondering if he’s going to have to tell the guy himself.

"I think you might be my dad," I say finally, feeling so nervous that I might throw up. Because though he seems nice enough, it’s starting to occur to me that this might not have been the best idea. Bryler had been right.

Dad gives me this blank expression. He is truly and really lost for words, that much is obvious. He sets down his briefcase carefully on the hardwood floor, so carefully that is does not even make a sound.

"Well… shit,” he says after what must be at least five minutes. He pushes his hair hair up nervously, looking very stressed out by this information. He blows out a heavy breath of air before adding on anything. “Look, kid, how much money is it that you want?"

"What?” I ask, a little taken aback at his question. It isn’t anything near what I’d expected him to say.

"How much money do you want?" He repeats. “To make up for me not ever being there, to make up for all the child support I never paid, all that stuff?” He is thinking in lawyer, I can see it. It seems to me like he thinks I’m suing him or something.

"I... I don't want money,” I try to explain, not sure if I like where the conversation is going. Because he didn’t say ‘Oh God, get in here at once! We’ll make our way back to Ludlow and I’ll adopt you immediately!’ like I’d been expecting. He didn’t say anything like that. “That isn’t what this is about.”

"Then what do you want?" He asks, raising an eyebrow, making it apparent that he doesn’t understand.

"A... dad?" I say, unsure of myself now. I can feel the tears forming in my eyes, as I realize once again just how really stupid this idea was. Some random stranger isn‘t going to want me. And that’s what he is. A stranger. Sure, we’re related by blood. We’re connected biologically. But I don’t know this guy, and he sure doesn’t know me.

"Look, kid. I wouldn't be a good dad to you; surely you‘ve figured that out already? I‘ve already missed half your life; I wasn’t there, was I? And that won’t change. I’m always traveling, I barely have time to see the kid I have now. She probably hates me, and she’s only like two years old. I just need you to disappear. I'd have a hard time explaining you to…-"

"David! " I hear a woman's voice call through-out the house that I realize now is way too big for one person. It must hold a family. I see a women come into view, holding a young child that looks just about two. The kid has the same blonde hair as her dad, and the blue twinkling eyes I’d pictured Dad as having. The women has curly read hair, and the eyes that matches the baby’s. She’s fairly short; wearing flannel PJ pants and a white tank top, which did not entirely cover her stomach. She was very pregnant, with yet another kid on the way. Once she catches sight of me, she smiles very warmly, which just makes it worse. I can tell she’s a nice person. “Who are these people, David?”

“Oh, just the kids of some old friends of mine,” he says casually, as if it were nothing. “They came by to send their parent’s hellos while they were in the neighborhood. Guys, this is my wife, Lauren. And my baby girl, Marisa. And that,” he proceeds to point at his wife’s huge belly, “that would be Devin, our son-on-the-way.”

"Oh," I say, and my world comes crashing down around me. Bryler looks at me concernedly, as Lauren goes on. “Well, it was nice meeting you two, but I think it’s about time for David to be off- he’s going to be late, again.”

“Oh, right,” I say again, my mind not able to come up with any other response. I’m at a total struggle for words. “I, uh, guess I'll just, you know... go.”

And with that I turn around and calmly make my way down the steps that were the entrance to the house. I turn left, and start to make my back the way we came from. And with each step, I get faster and fast until I’m a street away from the house and I’m all out running down the sidewalk, as fast as I can.

“September! Wait!” Bryler calls from behind me, but I can't wait. I have to keep running. If I keep running, everything will be okay. I run only a little bit longer before I can hardly go on from being tired. Tears are blurring my vision, and I can hear Bryler getting a lot closer. I finally just give up on it. I just completely stop running, breathing heavily. I lean against the wall of the brick building I’m located in front of, and then slide down against the rough wall. It doesn’t even matter that it hurts my back. I curl up into a ball and start sobbing into my knees uncontrollable. I let everything out that I've been holding in. I cry because my own dad doesn't want me; he’s got a better family and a better life. I cry because I never say the right thing. I cry because this morning I found out that Jenny had chosen her prank this year to be played on me; she thought it’d be funny to steal Mom’s diary and attempt to publish it online for everyone to see, thinking it was mine. I cry because my arm hurts really badly. I cry because nothing will ever be the same, and I was stupid enough not to totally appreciate my great life while I had it. I cry because I never live up to people's expectations, and I just can‘t seem to deal with the fact people have them. I cry because I can’t remember anything. I cry because the fact is that Mom is gone, forever.

“My own father hates me,” I tell Bryler after a while, who is now on the ground next to me, his arms around me in an awkward hug, but I don‘t mind it. I lift my head up from my knees to see the bright world, and it‘s a bit too much. I immediately burry my face in Bryler’s chest, which is easiest enough in the position we’re in.

“No he doesn't. He doesn't hate you. He doesn't even know you,” Bryler tells me, pulling away a little bit and then lifting my chin up so I am looking him in the eye.

“It doesn't matter. He doesn't want me. Nobody wants me,” I say, starting to cry again into his shoulder. He wraps his arms around me tighter, the hug not so awkward anymore. We have shifted positions, so now it’s how a normal hug is suppose to be.

“That's not true. Besides, your dad is an idiot,” Bryler says lifting my chin once more so I have to look him straight in the eyes. “I'd take you any day.”

With that Bryler pulls my face towards his and kisses me, straight on the lips. I kiss back. I mean, I really kiss. It's everything I thought it'd be, but at the same time, something is wrong. It takes me a minute to realize exactly what, though. I pull away and say,
“You don't have to kiss me because you feel sorry for me.”

“I wasn't. I was kissing you because-” He starts, but I don’t let him give me whatever lame excuse he has thought up.

“No. I know you don't like me like that. You're just kissing me out of... of pity,” I say, only figuring it out right as I say it.

“No, I'm not, September,” he says, actually starting to look mad. “I would never do that. I wouldn’t kiss someone just because I felt sorry for them.”

“Okay, then why? Why else would anyone want to kiss me? I don't even have a family. I never do anything right. I’m a friggin handicap; look at my arm. I burst into tears like every four seconds and I’m way too moody and not pretty enough to be worth it. And, even if you did like me, you deserve way better than me,” I tell him angrily, shrugging out of his hug and pulling my self into standing position quickly. I’m almost surprised at how fast it all happens, because suddenly I’m running again, but this time, I go the opposite way. Where I should of ran in the first place, towards town, where I can shop. It took us fifteen minutes to get to Dad's house, but it takes me twenty-five minutes to get to where I should have just come in the first place. I make my way into the first store that look promising, like it’d have art supplies, and I’m relieved to see I’m right when I walk in.

I'm pretty sure people are staring at me, on account of the fact that I'm breathing so heavily and tears are still pouring down my face, despite the fact I keep wiping away at them. They were traitors- the tears, I mean. I never said I‘d allow myself to cry. I didn‘t want to cry. Yet I was.

The watercolors are in the back. It turns out Jake was right, they do have them here. I grab a nice looking pack of watercolors with all the colors I need to paint just about anything, which seemed like the best thing to get since I still have no clue what I am going to paint. I pay and then quickly go outside and start to make my way back to the place she dropped Bryler and I off at earlier. I start off in a hurry, thinking I must not have much time left. But then I think to check my phone to see the time. I have another two hours. I sigh and slow down; figuring I might as well enjoy a peaceful walk. It's going to be a while.