This Still Belongs to You and Always Will
Chapter 6
Elena’s P.O.V:
Dad wasn’t back until about 8:00 pm. At the sound of his key in the door, I looked up from my quorn Spaghetti Bolognese. Like Frank, I’m vegetarian. Dad staggered into the room, his hair windswept and his long black coat buttoned up to the top. Frank smiled and stood up to kiss his red cheek.
“It’s freezing out there,” He insisted, rubbing his arms theatrically “And they say we’re approaching summer.”
I couldn’t help smiling at his comment. Dad has this way of making me smile even though he’s blissfully unaware of it. He sat opposite me with his re-heated meal, digging in greedily. We all ate companionably. An eerie silence rang through the kitchen, only broken by the sounds of knives and forks hitting the china of the plates. Dad watched me eat in silence.
“Good day Sprout?”
“Mm.”
“What did you do today?”
“Pop quiz.”
“Fun,” He replied sarcastically “Fun, fun, fun.”
“Mm.”
He didn’t say anything after that. A pang of guilt struck inside. He was only trying to make conversation. And he’s my Dad for Christ’s sake. I’m supposed to have conversations with him. Instead, he made small talk with Frank whilst devouring his meal in front of him. I stood up, scraping the last of my dinner in the bin.
“Thanks Frank,” I smiled unconvincingly “Can I leave the table?”
“Nothing’s stopping you.” Dad replied, waving his hand.
I took that as a yes and left the room quietly…
…There was a knock at my door about an hour after I left the table.
“Come in.” I called, not breaking my concentration.
I looked up from ‘Pansy’ to see Dad poking his head round the door. My head nodded him in while I continued to play. I’ve been playing guitar since I was five. Frank started teaching me after we learned that he lived next door to us and took up light baby-sitting duties. ‘Pansy’ was his favourite guitar so it was a huge deal when he passed her on to me for my thirteenth birthday. He told me to take extra special care of her and to pass her down to my kids and tell them to pass her down to their kids and so on. Dad sat quietly in the chair at my desk while I sang.
I want a girl with lips like morphine
Knock me out every time they touch me
I wanna’ feel a kiss just crush me
And break me down
Knock me out
Knock me out
‘Cause I’ve waited for all my life
To be here with you tonight
I want a girl with lips like morphine
I want a kiss that leaves me gasping
And I wanna’ feel that lightning strike me
And burn me down
Knock me out
Knock me out
‘Cause I’ve waited for all my life
To be here with you tonight
Just put me on my back
Knock me out again
I want a girl with lips like morphine
Knock me out every time they touch me
I want a girl with lips like morphine
To knock me out
See I’ve waited for all my life
To be here with you tonight
Just put me on my back
Knock me out again
Dad applauded appreciatively. I rolled my eyes and set my favourite monster pick aside.
“I remember when Frank first played that to you and said you’d be able to play it if you kept it up.” He smiled.
“And now I can.”
“Yeah; now you can,” He agreed “Your voice is definitely getting better too.”
I smiled gratefully. There was a silence after that. Dad looked up at all the posters on my wall with interest. Ville Valo and Wil Francis smirked down at us from their places on the wall while Patrick, Pete, Joe and Andy grinned down at us. Dad could’ve been a rock star easily. He’s an amazing singer but then I was born and I guess I held him back.
“Elena; is everything ok, honey?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” I replied, smiling determinedly.
“I dunno’,” He replied awkwardly “There’s nothing bothering you? Nothing you wanna’ talk about-“
I cut across by laughing. ‘Talks’ with Dad and Frank tend to be very awkward. The first talk was about where babies come from and the facts of life which still makes me squirm to this day. I asked them if they have sex and there was just this ominous silence. They’d found it awkward enough already trying to explain it to me and then I opened my big mouth and made it ten times worse. Oh and let’s not forget the talk about ‘Growing up’. That was a total disaster. They were trying to explain about time of the month and boobs growing and stuff. It was one of the most embarrassing times of my life. It’s good of them to try rather than buying a book about it and going ‘Here. Read’ and leaving me to get on with it like Katie’s parents did but it was such a cringe-worthy moment.
“No, Dad,” I promised “I’m fine; really.”
“If you’re sure,” He wavered “If you ever do wanna’ talk; I’m just down the hall.”
“I know Dad,” I smiled “Thanks.”
Dad wasn’t back until about 8:00 pm. At the sound of his key in the door, I looked up from my quorn Spaghetti Bolognese. Like Frank, I’m vegetarian. Dad staggered into the room, his hair windswept and his long black coat buttoned up to the top. Frank smiled and stood up to kiss his red cheek.
“It’s freezing out there,” He insisted, rubbing his arms theatrically “And they say we’re approaching summer.”
I couldn’t help smiling at his comment. Dad has this way of making me smile even though he’s blissfully unaware of it. He sat opposite me with his re-heated meal, digging in greedily. We all ate companionably. An eerie silence rang through the kitchen, only broken by the sounds of knives and forks hitting the china of the plates. Dad watched me eat in silence.
“Good day Sprout?”
“Mm.”
“What did you do today?”
“Pop quiz.”
“Fun,” He replied sarcastically “Fun, fun, fun.”
“Mm.”
He didn’t say anything after that. A pang of guilt struck inside. He was only trying to make conversation. And he’s my Dad for Christ’s sake. I’m supposed to have conversations with him. Instead, he made small talk with Frank whilst devouring his meal in front of him. I stood up, scraping the last of my dinner in the bin.
“Thanks Frank,” I smiled unconvincingly “Can I leave the table?”
“Nothing’s stopping you.” Dad replied, waving his hand.
I took that as a yes and left the room quietly…
…There was a knock at my door about an hour after I left the table.
“Come in.” I called, not breaking my concentration.
I looked up from ‘Pansy’ to see Dad poking his head round the door. My head nodded him in while I continued to play. I’ve been playing guitar since I was five. Frank started teaching me after we learned that he lived next door to us and took up light baby-sitting duties. ‘Pansy’ was his favourite guitar so it was a huge deal when he passed her on to me for my thirteenth birthday. He told me to take extra special care of her and to pass her down to my kids and tell them to pass her down to their kids and so on. Dad sat quietly in the chair at my desk while I sang.
I want a girl with lips like morphine
Knock me out every time they touch me
I wanna’ feel a kiss just crush me
And break me down
Knock me out
Knock me out
‘Cause I’ve waited for all my life
To be here with you tonight
I want a girl with lips like morphine
I want a kiss that leaves me gasping
And I wanna’ feel that lightning strike me
And burn me down
Knock me out
Knock me out
‘Cause I’ve waited for all my life
To be here with you tonight
Just put me on my back
Knock me out again
I want a girl with lips like morphine
Knock me out every time they touch me
I want a girl with lips like morphine
To knock me out
See I’ve waited for all my life
To be here with you tonight
Just put me on my back
Knock me out again
Dad applauded appreciatively. I rolled my eyes and set my favourite monster pick aside.
“I remember when Frank first played that to you and said you’d be able to play it if you kept it up.” He smiled.
“And now I can.”
“Yeah; now you can,” He agreed “Your voice is definitely getting better too.”
I smiled gratefully. There was a silence after that. Dad looked up at all the posters on my wall with interest. Ville Valo and Wil Francis smirked down at us from their places on the wall while Patrick, Pete, Joe and Andy grinned down at us. Dad could’ve been a rock star easily. He’s an amazing singer but then I was born and I guess I held him back.
“Elena; is everything ok, honey?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” I replied, smiling determinedly.
“I dunno’,” He replied awkwardly “There’s nothing bothering you? Nothing you wanna’ talk about-“
I cut across by laughing. ‘Talks’ with Dad and Frank tend to be very awkward. The first talk was about where babies come from and the facts of life which still makes me squirm to this day. I asked them if they have sex and there was just this ominous silence. They’d found it awkward enough already trying to explain it to me and then I opened my big mouth and made it ten times worse. Oh and let’s not forget the talk about ‘Growing up’. That was a total disaster. They were trying to explain about time of the month and boobs growing and stuff. It was one of the most embarrassing times of my life. It’s good of them to try rather than buying a book about it and going ‘Here. Read’ and leaving me to get on with it like Katie’s parents did but it was such a cringe-worthy moment.
“No, Dad,” I promised “I’m fine; really.”
“If you’re sure,” He wavered “If you ever do wanna’ talk; I’m just down the hall.”
“I know Dad,” I smiled “Thanks.”