Those Ocean Eyes

It was odd finally being able to sit down and have a meal with the man who was essentially a childhood hero of mine, though he was simply my uncle. I wished more than anything for my mother to be here with us. She had a natural talent for easing tension. I had always believed that's why she was so great with my father. He was a man with a short temper and loud opinions. My mother could charm him like a snake charmer with a snake.

Our conversation focused heavily on my mother. He asked me many questions about how I was treated after my mother’s passing. When I mentioned my father’s remarriage, he slightly stiffened.

“Mel, did your mother ever mention to you why your father and I don't get along?” My Uncle tentatively asked.

I shrugged my shoulders, “Not really, she never got into the specifics. She always had a difficult time talking about it, and I was so young. I never really understood.”

He sat silent, the muscles in his jaw clenched. His eyes turned cold as he stared at the table harshly. He stayed like that for a few moments, letting deep breaths out through flared nostrils. When he finally raised his eyes to mine, they were filled with regret.

“You're mum was my baby sister. I was always so damn protective over her. Pop left when she was just a tot, couldn't even crawl. Mum was a wreck. I was all Mandy had, so I did everything in my damn power to bring her up right. It was hard growin’ up in London with a baby sister depending on ya, but she was such a good kid. Clever as a whip, with a spitfire personality. And god was she beautiful. You look so much like her Mel,” he paused, smiling at me. “When she started seeing your father, I thought he was an alright lad. Of course no bloke was good enough for my sister. Especially some American punk, but he made her smile wider then I knew was possible. They were married two years after they met, you were born three years later. We had our falling out when you were about four or so.”

I cocked my head to the side, “What happened?”

“’S’not my place to say, sweetheart,” he said through clenched teeth and a shake of his head.

“Bullshit,” I laughed. “If you didn't want me to know, then you wouldn't have mentioned any of this. Just, tell me. Please? I have a right to know what my asshole of a father did. Please Uncle Arnie?”

He captured my hand in his, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “You're so much like your mother. It makes me miss her that much more.”

I gave him a smile grin and squeezed his hand.

“Jesus, never thought that I'd be the one to tell you this, but here goes nothing I guess,” he took a deep breath before speaking.

“Amelia, your father had an affair and got the woman pregnant.”