Daddy's Little Princess

Back home, with dinner on the way. Oliver was online shopping on his laptop, he needed a new bed desperately as his back was killing him with the old one he brought from a charity shop.
Francesca was currently sitting opposite, colouring quietly much to Oliver’s happiness as a headache was gradually coming to him.

“Want a drink princess?” Oliver asks, giving in and deciding to go get some pain killers. Francesca looks up, and nods without a word and goes back to her master piece of a butterfly, well it looked like a butterfly.

Shuffling into the kitchen, Oliver reached into the medicine cupboard which he forbade Francesca from, and it was too high her to reach anyways, he also hit the sweets in here as he knew Francesca was a devil when it came to sweets.

Oliver dry swallowed the tablets, stealing a sip of his daughter’s orange juice quickly and then going back to the table, and putting the juice cup in front of Francesca.
“Thank you” Francesca says, colouring with her right hand and sucking her left thumb so the word came out muffled and even more mispronounced. Oliver would have taken it out and told her no, but the buzzer went off.

“Stay here.” Oliver says and without a reply went to the intercom. He pressed the button and asked who it was.

“It’s your mother, Oliver.” the voice of Victoria Jenkins echoed and Oliver closed his eyes and mentally counted to ten. His mother, the most obnoxious, arrogant woman he’s ever met, and she still thought she could rule his life.

“What you doing here?” Oliver asks, unable to not sound rude.

“Just let me in Oliver.” Victoria snaps, she was never a mother who was all hugs and smiles, Oliver couldn’t even remember the last time she had said “I Love You” to him, probably never.

Oliver sighs, knowing that the devil woman downstairs wouldn’t leave until she had what she wanted, reluctantly he pressed the buzzer and he would have cussed, if not for the fact his little girl walked towards him.

“Who’s here Daddy?” Francesca asks innocently, with her thumb back in her mouth.

“Princess, it’s Grandma.” Oliver says, his tongue almost flinching as he said the poisonous words. Francesca tilted her head to the side, unable to recollect an image of this woman called “Grandma”.

“Princess, why don’t you go find your pyjamas and pick a story out for tonight?” Oliver says quickly as he heard his mother approaching. Francesca nodded, and skipped off into her bedroom. Oliver opened the door before she could knock, and Victoria Jenkins stood before him.

Now Victoria Jenkins was a woman who always wanted more, she could never settle. This being one of the reasons why Victoria and Oliver’s father, Thomas divorced when Oliver was ten years old. Well, the other reason Victoria had a scandalous affair with a younger man who she always claimed to be ‘just friends’ with. Victoria is a woman of high maintenance, Oliver always surprised to find that Victoria had time to get her nails redone, or hair done, yet could never find time to come to Oliver’s football matches or Parents Evening.

Oliver’s father could never find the time either, as he was always at work, an international salesman. He was now having flings with woman half his age in other countries, but he still managed a quick phone call to find out how his only son and granddaughter were doing, unlike Victoria who felt the need to make a surprise visit whenever it suited her which Oliver detested.

It was safe to say that Oliver never had a healthy relationship with his parents, he always kept to himself and when he was younger, and before he had a kid. He was always out socializing with friends, anything to get out of spend time with the family.

Victoria stood high and mighty, in teal coloured designer suit with matching pencil skirt, a white blouse peeking out, showing Victoria’s well tanned chest, a huge oversized similar blue pendant hung around her thin neck, with matching earrings of course. Her hair was now dyed a dark brown, almost black cut into a straightened bob which looked far too young for her. Her face plastered with makeup and botox, with thickly covered eyelashes, red stained lips, and the smell of Chanel No.5 drifted into the apartment, not to mention the ridiculous heels that Oliver never saw his mother without.

“Victoria.” Oliver grumbles, he hadn’t called his mother, “Mum or Mother” or anything that shows what relative she was to him, ever since she temporarily disowned him at 17, and Oliver walked out with a 12 month year old baby girl with a newfound hatred for her.

“Oliver.” Victoria greets stiffly walking into the what she thought was a ridiculously small flat which was clearly not good enough for her grandchild. She walked in, without asking and continued to speculate the flat, seeing the kitchen was messy from the dirty plates left on the side, the children’s toys scattered along the living room floor and as she walked down the hall, she saw Oliver’s room, untidy and his bed unmade with piles of washing in baskets on the floor, just like his room had been when he was teen. Victoria sustained from rolling her eyes at the irony and walked back into the main living air, where Oliver was currently sitting at the table, head in his hands, running his hands through his brown hair that he got from his father.

“I see nothing has changed.” Victoria says smugly, knowing that her son was struggling being a single parent.

“Nothing needs to be changed.” Oliver smartly replies. Victoria scoffs quietly, and strides into the kitchen. She wanted some herbal tea, but she heavily doubted Oliver would have some.

“What you doing here Victoria?” Oliver calls after her, getting up angrily and following after her. He hated this, he hated the fact that she just stormed in without explanation.

“I’m here to see the girl of course.” Victoria says as if it was obvious. Oliver hated that too, Victoria felt almost too ashamed to call his daughter by her name, as she was a unwanted child that Victoria believed ruined the entire family. Oliver disagreed immensely.

“Well, it’s almost bath and bed time, so you came at the wrong time.” Oliver snaps, uncaring that this was his mother he was regarding to.

“Oliver, if I want to see my grandchild, then I shall.” Victoria says clearly, and firmly. Oliver refrained himself from screaming at her.

“Daddy?” the angelic voice of Francesca was heard behind them. Oliver then felt two little arms wrap around his jean clad legs. Oliver looked down, immediately relaxing at the sigh of his beautiful daughter.

“Princess, Grandma has come to see you.” Oliver says, bringing Francesca in front of him and picking her up effortlessly. Francesca smiles cheekily, and Victoria couldn’t stop the tugging feeling at her lips. The child was beautiful, and innocent.

“Hello darling.” Victoria coos, reaching out for and Francesca is placed in her arms. Her nose wrinkling from the scent of overpowering perfume, but thankfully, she didn’t comment.

“My, haven’t you grown?” Victoria coos, tucking a tiny blonde curl behind Francesca’s ear.

“Well that’s what happens when you don’t visit for a year.” Oliver remarks, turning the oven off. There was a small baked potato for Francesca inside, Oliver decided not to eat till later.

“Oliver, I did send a card for his birthday with a generous amount, so don’t be so rude.” Victoria sniffs, and smiles at Francesca, who suddenly wanted her father’s hold. Francesca whined and wriggled out of Victoria’s grasp, and Oliver immediately snatched her back.

“Princess, dinner will be ready soon…go wash up yeah?” Oliver says gently, and Francesca nods and leaves the adults again.

“No sign of her mother then?” Victoria suddenly asks, watching the child leave. Oliver stared at Victoria in disbelief.

“If you’re here to criticize my life, then I beg you to leave.” Oliver says coldly, opening the fridge and start to grate some cheese, using the appliances that he put out earlier.

“Oliver, I wanted nothing but the best for you-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, you’ve never cared what I’ve done in my life, you’re only here so you can brag to Dad that you’ve seen Frankie more then him.” Oliver interrupts angrily, speaking lowly in case Francesca was in earshot.

Victoria rolls her eyes but made no comment, for it was true. She hated her ex-husband with a passion, as he took more money from her then she got from him. It was all about money in Victoria and Thomas’s world. She was determined to rub in his aging face that she at least saw their grandchild.

“Oliver, if I’m not mistaken your daughter has been legally named Francesca, so why must you call her a boy’s nickname?” Victoria asks, frustrated at her son’s habits. She disliked the fact that Francesca responded to “Frankie” also.

“Exactly, she’s my daughter not yours…so I’ll call her whatever the hell I want. Now do us a favour and leave.” Oliver spits, not wanting her to be here a moment longer. Victoria sniffs, her lips pulled into a slight frown, but not too much as it creased her face, which Victoria believed to ruin her botox treatment.

“Very well, I won’t be seeing you at Christmas I’m afraid, I’m going on a cruise.” Victoria says, hoping this would cause a reaction from her son. Nothing.

Oliver merely shrugged, he didn’t want to see his mother on that day anyway.

“Goodbye Victoria, just let yourself out.” Oliver says tiredly, putting the cheese back into the fridge. Victoria sighs dramatically.

“Goodbye Oliver, Goodbye Darling!” Victoria calls, and without a second longer headed for the door.

“Oh and Oliver?” Victoria calls, half her body out the door.

Oliver slammed the butter knife down and stormed to the kitchen doorway, where he could view his mother, smirking at him.

“Try and clean up, you don’t want your daughter thinking she can live in a pigsty.” Victoria cackles, and waves sarcastically, slamming the door behind her. Oliver hated that woman.

“Frankie! Dinner.” Oliver shouts, going back into the kitchen.