Starry Night

Once morning came, it was as if an alarm had gone off in my head to wake up. Opening my eyes, I was almost half-expecting for Connor to be in the rocking chair like last time, but he was right next to me.

His breathing was even as he looked back at me, and he moved a strand of hair away from eyes. “Thank you,” I whispered. Connor moved in, kissing my forehead, “Good morning.” The early sunlight reflected off of his golden hair and I ran my fingers through it just because I wanted to. I loved that way it felt between my fingers, how it was always so messy and wild.
I sighed and started to get up, but Connor took my hand and pulled me back to him. “Don’t get up yet.” He looked at me hard with those pleading green eyes, and of course, I stayed. “Okay.” The air around us was silent for a few minutes, but finally, Connor spoke. “Do you miss your dad?” I closed my eyes, “Why do you ask?”

“I’m just curious.”

I looked over to the nightstand and picked up the small teddy bear. Holding it tightly, I nodded, “All the time.” I laughed quietly, “I remember the time he taught me to ride a bike. I had scraped my knee and fallen for the hundredth time and I wanted to give up. He asked me if soldiers gave up. Of course they don’t. I learned to ride that day just because of that.” Connor smiled weakly and looked down at the teddy bear. “I wish my dad was like that.”

* * * *

The doorbell scared me as it rang throughout the house, and I contemplated not answering it. I took another look at the textbooks spread out around me and sighed, wondering how much work was still ahead. If Connor hadn’t come over and distracted me for five hours, I might have actually gotten some work done.

Papers crinkled as I slowly made my way off of my bed and down the cold, wooden stairs. The bell never rang twice, and when I finally reached the door, there was a quiet sigh as if someone concluded no one was home. The lock clicked open and the door revealed a middle-aged man with gray growing slightly in his beard. “Can I help you,” I asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Does a Nicole Bennett live here?” His voice was gruffly and rough.

“Depends on who is asking.”

“Stacy…is that you?” His eyes lit up, showing a bright blue color that reminded me of mine.

“Who are you?” He looked slightly familiar but I couldn’t place the name to the face. That smile…it seemed to be from such a long time ago.

“Don’t you recognize me?”

I stood up straight, studying the stranger, “No.”

All hope seemed to fall from his face, his eyes turning instantly cold. “Don’t you recognize your father?”

Everything turned silent except for my mind replaying the moment dad left. “Good-bye, I love you,” with a smile that was unmistakably my father’s, a smile this man had.

“You’re not my father,” I whispered, “He’s dead.”

“But I’m not. I’m standing right in front of you.” He took me into strong arms, his smell bringing back every memory from my childhood.

“No,” I backed away. “No! Even if you are him, you show up at our doorstep and expect me to forget you were dead for 12 years of my life? You tore this family apart and now you want to be a part of it again? You can’t. Never.”

My mother appeared at the top of the stairs then and froze, “Mark?”

“Hi Nicole,” was all he said.

* * * *

The yelling was audible through my closed door and I turned my iPod up louder to block it out. Their voices seemed so unfamiliar as they rose and fell. Sometimes it was silent but my heart and tears were screaming.

Whenever I heard his rough, deep tone my stomach cringed and I realized it was something I could never get used to again.

Once more, their voices rose and my music rose with it. I couldn’t understand any of this, let alone handle it. My father obviously wasn’t thinking about us when he decided to show up. Did he really think we would take his 12-year disappearance well?

Finally I couldn’t take this anymore, and I took my jacket from the chair. The stairs were silent as I ran down them and grabbing my mother’s keys from the table near the door, I walked out the door. Neither of them noticed until I was closing it behind me, and they quietly called my name, but I didn’t turn around. If my mother had taught me one thing when we moved, it was to never look back.

The cold breeze felt nice against my warm skin, and the nighttime sky had just opened up above my head. One door had opened completely different scenery for me and I welcomed the peacefulness.

I found my mother’s car in the dark driveway, and I didn’t take a second thought as I cranked the engine and pulled out. I knew exactly where I was going.

*

The old Victorian house stood tall and majestic in the night light, but looked exactly the same from when I was last here.

Most of the windows were black, but people still moved around inside. I jumped up the stone steps and pounded my fist on the door. Emily opened the door and smiled at my presence, “Stacy!”

Out of breath, I asked, “Is Connor here?”

“Of course, he’s up in his room.” I ran inside without actually asking and kicked my shoes off at the base of the stairs.

The carpet was soft underneath my feet while I neared the top hallway, and counted the doors until I finally reached his. The door was closed and I knocked impatiently, “Connor?”
After a minute he opened it, squinting his eyes and his blonde hair hanging every which way. “What are you doing here, Stacy?”

“Were you sleeping?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Connor answered with a slight smirk. But then he saw my hurt expression and asked what was wrong.

“My dad showed up at my door. He’s alive.”

I could see Connor’s eyebrows come together in confusion and his mouth open in surprise.

He opened the door further and gestured me to come inside.