3. Better An Orphan Than Forgotten #2
“We are not a family. I’m a fatherless child and you’re a husbandless wife. A real family is what Alyssa and Giovana have. Look,” I tell her. “Ronan is here, the boys are here. They showed up for Lyss because they actually care about her.”
“And what about me?” She demands. “Don’t I care about you? Am I not enough for you?”
“No!”
I hate today. I hate this church, this robe, and the stupid angel pinned to my chest. I rip it off and toss it to the floor as I storm out of the vestibule and down the church’s front steps.
“Dahlia!” Mom calls after me.
I spin around, equal parts furious and heartbroken. “When are you going to realize that he doesn’t love us? He doesn’t want to be with us. If he did, he would try harder!”
“You are not going to make a scene, nos están mirando—”
“Who cares if they’re looking! Who cares if they’re listening? No!” she tries reaching for me and I smack her hand away. “I’m tired of living like this.”
Mom lets out an exasperated breath and I can’t tell if she’s about to cry or scream. “I don’t know what you want from me, Dahlia. I’m sorry he isn’t here. He said he would be and I’m sorry he isn’t.”
“You did a real good job picking my father. Maybe I’ll get lucky one day and marry a man just like him.”
“?Cállate, ya!” She exclaims then looks over. “Giovana, Alyssa, we’re leaving. We’ll see you Monday.”
Giovana presses her lips together. “All right…”
“No, I’m not leaving. You said he’d come right? Why don’t we stay and see how long it takes him.”
Maybe it’s cruel of me to subject her to this humiliation on the front steps of our neighborhood church.
Maybe one day I’ll feel bad about it and when I’m a grown-up, I’ll have to ask for her forgiveness.
But not now. Now, she’s just an easy target.
The punching bag I get to hit because the person I really want to be angry with isn’t here and she will unjustly suffer for it.
“Matthew Rodriquez’s dad was in jail less than forty-eight hours ago and he still showed up today.
Nina’s dad was half an hour late but he didn’t miss it when it was her turn to go up to the podium.
And Kosta’s dad is dead but he still left behind money to take care of his family.
Maybe mine should die in a plane crash too, maybe then he’ll actually be of use to us! ”
Her eyes widen in horror. “Dahlia.”
“It’s true! He’s useless. He can’t do anything right.
Why does everyone else’s dad care enough to show up but mine doesn’t?
Papi doesn’t even try. He passes through our lives like we’re some stop on the way to a greater destination and I’m tired of it.
I’d rather be orphaned than have a parent like that.
I’d rather the next time he disappears, he doesn’t come back at all! ”
I don’t realize I’m screaming until the whole block goes quiet. Blood rushes in my ears and my heart is racing. A migraine bursts to life between my temples and the burn in my throat tells me I must’ve been screaming from the top of my lungs.
Lyss’s eyes are watery with tears. “Dee…I think you should turn around.”
Giovana buries her face in her hand and Mom remains stoic, face red and cheeks scarred with tears. I almost wonder if they’ve seen a ghost or if God Himself split open the sky to cast me down. Well, He may as well have.
Because when I turn around, Papi is there, standing on the edge of the sidewalk in his Sunday best with a bouquet of dahlias in his hand.
He doesn’t say anything and somehow, that makes it worse.
Just when I think the ground is going to open up and swallow me whole, I feel Lyss come up beside me. She takes my hand and says, “Dahlia’s going to have dinner with us tonight…if that’s okay.”
She doesn’t wait for anyone’s permission. We cross the street to where her dad is parked and Liam, her eldest brother, gets out to open the door for us.
The whole time I keep expecting something will happen. Papi will run across the street and open the car door and Mom will beg me to go home with them instead. Instead, we ride all the way to Lyss’s house in silence.
* * *
“I bet if I was dying in a hospital bed he wouldn’t even come to see me.”
Lyss steps out of her closet. “Don’t say that!”
“It’s true.” I say as I count the little bumps on her popcorn ceiling. “I could be bleeding out from like…a paper cut or a bullet wound or something and he still wouldn’t show.”
“I disagree.” She walks over to her mirror and pushes up her breasts. “All dads love their little girls.”
“Mine used to. I don’t know when he stopped.”
Lyss presses her lips together as she examines the contents of her dresser.
She reaches for the box of tissues and starts stuffing her training bra again.
“Do you think he has another family? Some guys do. That’s what happened to Sean Brown’s parents in the third grade and why his mom moved them to North Carolina. ”
“I doubt it. He doesn’t even have time for the one he already has.” I roll over in bed and tuck the One Direction pillow under my cheek. “I don’t know what my mother ever saw in a man like him.”