Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Luckies (Continued)

     Okay all, here's another part to my story Luckies.  I hope everyone get's some kind of entertainment out of it.  Enjoy!

(WARNING!  Contains mature language and content.)




 CHAPTER 1

           I was getting ready to go down stairs to greet Victoria, when the phone rang.  I was trying to decide if I should ignore the phone or not.  I thought it might be important.  You never know with my phone calls.  So I answered it.
          “Yeah?”  “Christopher Sterling!  How’s it goin’ old pal?”
I knew who it was.  It was the man who got me my job.  Who helped me start my career.  Sam Thasher.  “Sam?”  “How are ya’ my friend?”  “It’s uh, it’s been alright.”  “Just alright?”  “Yeah.”  “So what’s been goin’ on Chris?  How’s the Family?”  “Sam, I really don’t have time for this.  I have some… things to take care of.”
          I hadn’t talked to Sam since before my divorce.  Sam had no idea they Charlotte and I got divorced.  But Sam knew me better than anyone else.  Even better than Charlotte.  He knew something was going on. 
          “Really?  Well, okay.  But give me a call when everything is taken care of.  I have some good news for you.  See ya.” -   Sam had hung up.  Good news, huh? I could have used some good news right about now, and coming from Sam, it must have been really good.
            After all that, I heard a “honk-honk” come from Charlotte’s pickup truck down stairs.  It was a 1977 Chevy Silverado.  I fixed that son of a bitch up so many times. I had so much money and sweat into it, and she had the nerve to take it in the divorce.  Then again, she also had the nerve to take my daughter.
             I knew keeping her waiting would just give her an excuse not to let Victoria stay.  Like somehow making her wait 5 more seconds made me a bad father.  “Well, fuck her!” I thought.  I was a better parent to Victoria than she ever was!  At least when I wasn’t working… Or drinking.
              I grabbed my box of Luckies and my lighter and went to meet them down stairs.  I lived at the apartment on the second floor all the way at the end of the balcony.  There was only one staircase, so I had to walk all the way down to the other side to get down stairs. 
              As I started down the staircase I pulled a half smoked cigarette out of my jacket pocket I saved from the other day.  I put it to my mouth and quickly lit it. 
          I only had three more steps to go when Charlotte stepped in front of the staircase and stopped me.  Arms crossed, one leg extended so her hips were uneven, and that look.  Oh God, that look.  The look she used to give me when I came home after working the late shift and she thought I was cheating on her.  The look she used to give him when I would wake up early to make pancakes for her and Victoria, and came into the kitchen, saw flour on the floor and thought it was cocaine.  The look she used to give me when she wanted me to do something wrong.  When she wanted me to relapse.  When she wanted me to fuck up. The look I was so happy I didn’t have to live with anymore. 
          “Don’t give me that look!”  Where the fuck have you been?  Is this how you treat your family?  Making them wait out it the cold?  It’s like half a fucking degree out here!”  She was always making things more dramatic then they needed to be.  But I thought that was one of the things I used to love about her.  She made things interesting, and it was just plain hilarious to watch her over-react.
          “Yeah, yeah, yeah.  Where’s my daughter?”  “MY daughter is in the truck keeping warm.  I swear to God Chris, if I come get her and she’s sick, you’ll have hell to pay!”  “Woman, I gave you 13 years of my life.  I think I’ve paid you enough!”  “You’ll never be able to pay for the shit you’ve put me through!”
          Charlotte and I rolled our eyes simultaneously.  Like we were kids dating in junior high and we were having our first fight.  I didn’t want to argue any longer, I was just ready to see Victoria.  “May I see my daughter, please?”  “Oh, where did all the manners come from?  Maybe if you had manners when we were married you wouldn’t have to live an entire state away from your daughter in the middle of fucking nowhere now would you? “
          Charlotte and I used to live in Fulton, Pennsylvania.  After we divorced, Charlotte took Victoria up to New York to live with her parents, and I went back home to Ohio.  Good old Youngstown, Ohio. It was a shitty town, but there was nowhere else in the world I would ever call home.
          Charlotte always liked to pretend they were rich, just because her parents were.  So of course she ran to them.  But I didn’t have mommy and daddy to run to.  My mother had died 6 years ago, and I never gave a shit what happened to my dad since he never gave a shit about me at all.
          Charlotte was just getting more aggravated with me, so she decided to start yelling.  “Damnit Chris!  I can’t beli-“
          I wasn’t about to listen to another useless lecture.  And I wasn’t about to get yelled at in the freezing cold.  I just wanted to see Victoria. So before Charlotte could finish, I turned it back around and shouted back.  “JUST GIVE ME MY FUCKING KID!!”  Most of the time it wasn’t easy, but I could always shut her up one way or another.  And I could always yell louder.
          Shocked at my tone of voice, and a little off guard, Charlotte let out a sigh and answered.  “I told you, she’s in the truck.”  Without saying another word, I walked over to the truck.  I took a few more puffs of my cigarette, and then threw it on the ground. 
          Charlotte smoked.  And I knew Victoria knew she smoked  But I wanted to try and hide all the bad parts of me.  But that was impossible.
           When I got to the truck, I saw her through the window.  There she was.  She had wavy, light brown hair underneath a green hooded sweatshirt.  With headphones on, mouthing the song she was listening to while she was texting someone on her cell phone.  She had changed so much in a year and a half, but she was still the same.  The same beautiful girl I helped created.  The one thing I actually did right in my life. 
          Not wanting to interrupt her, I tried to softly tap the window.  But she didn’t look.  So I tapped again, this time louder and longer.  She took one headphone out of her ear and slowly looked over at me.  I gave her half a smile, and waved, but she just looked at me like she didn’t give a shit.  She was either scared, or angry.  He couldn’t tell.  After a brief staring contest, she but her headphone back in her ear, and continued texting.  She was defiantly angry.  I wasn’t surprised.  I hadn’t seen her in a year and a half.  But I felt like there was more too it then just that.  There was something else making her angry.  Maybe it was something her mother told her on the nine hour trip down from New York.  A woman can talk a lot of shit in nine hours.
                With all those thoughts in my head, I started to get pissed.  So I walked over to Charlotte.  She was leaning against the building smoking a cigarette.  Her brand was Virginia Slims.  I hated the smell of Virginia Slims.  To me, it was the ultimate stench of bitch.
          With my anger growing, I placed my hand on one side of Charlotte against the wall behind her, and leaned in.  In an angry, yet quiet voice, I asked her;  “What did you say to her on the way down here?”  Charlotte was annoyed with my approach.  She took one last drag of her cigarette, and threw it down.  Before answering me, she forcefully broke through the barrier I tried to make with my arm.  She leaned in, and put her face up close to mine and answered.  “I didn’t say anything she didn’t already know.”  Hearing that answer just infuriated me.  So I got even closer to her and asked; “WHAT DID YOU TELL HER?”  This time, Charlotte looked concerned.  So she let out a sigh in anticipation of what she was about to tell me. 
          “I didn’t say anything.  And neither did she.  She hasn’t said a word to whole time we were in the truck.  I kept trying to get her to talk, but not a sound.  Honestly Chris, I can’t say I blame her.  She used to be such a daddy’s girl, but what do you expect?  She was pretty much ignored.  She used to write you every day.”
          The anger I had before quickly changed into sadness and disappointment.  I just dropped my head in shame.  I leaned against the building, and lit another cigarette to help ease my pain.  “I know. I still have all the little letters and drawings she made me.” 
          “But after the last time she saw you, she’s been… distant and angry, but completely normal in every other way.  She hangs out with friends, does her homework, and watches TV.  But every time I mention you, she shuts down.  To tell you the truth, that’s the biggest reason I brought her here.  I know we’ve had our issues and I know all I’ve done is made things worse, but I can’t stand the thought of Tori hating you.”
          I froze.  I heard exactly what she had said, but somehow I didn’t understand.  “Wait! What?!”  Did Charlotte say my daughter hated me?  My baby girl.  I didn’t understand it.  I refused to believe it!  I simply couldn’t accept being hated by the only true and beautiful thing in my life.
          I was trying to cope with the shock of it all.  I stopped smoking my cigarette, just holding it now. I swallowed the huge knot in my throat and answered.  “She said she hated me?”  Charlotte was choking back tears, and trying to keep her voice to continue their conversation.
          “I told you, she hasn’t said anything.  It’s obvious how hurt she is.  We divorced when she needed us most.  And you didn’t answer any of the letters she sent or any of the phone calls she made.  Not to mention, you canceled the last three times she was supposed to stay with you.”
          After he I told he wasn’t allowed to see her, I thought that was it.  I thought I was never going to see her again.  So yeah, I ignored her.  I gave up.  I got drunk.  I had tried so hard to get her back, but nothing worked.  I didn’t know what else to do.  Charlotte was rewarded full custody because of my drinking problem.  The judge gave me one year to get my act together and work on getting sober.  They said they would check on me and decide another court date to talk about maybe giving me joint custody. 
          I didn’t think I would be able to do it.  I didn’t think I would ever see Victoria again.  So I ignored her.  I didn’t want to be reminded of the things I had lost.  I just wanted them to disappear so I wouldn’t have to worry about getting hurt again.  But life just doesn’t work that way now does it? 
          After nine months of being drunk, worthless, and daughter-less, I knew this was no way to live my life.  I couldn’t just let her go.  There was no way I could forget her.  So I did what I had to do.  So the last three months of that year, I sucked it up and got sober. 
          Charlotte and I had another court date.  I was rewarded joint custody.  After all that was taken care of, Charlotte and I had planned several times to have Victoria stay with me, but every time work seemed to get in his way, and the drinking slowly crept back.  So she quit trying.  I don’t know why, but Charlotte never told the court I started drinking again.  Maybe she had more faith in me than I thought. 
          Victoria had no idea her parents stopped trying to give her a more stable life.  So without a thought, she kept writing and kept calling.  But I didn’t answer.  I ignored her again.  She figured her father didn’t care about her anymore, so she stopped caring about him.
          Finally, one day I made the plan to have Victoria stay with me from September 20th through New Year’s.  Charlotte never thought it would work, since it never was successful before.  But she thought she would give me one more chance.  Just one more chance to show her and Victoria I was the father she disserved.  I remember when Charlotte told me she was pregnant.  We had just been going out for a couple months.  I was 18 and she was 17.  We were young, but so in love.  Unfortunately people don’t  just stay together because of love.  It takes more work than that, and we just didn’t work that hard I guess.  But I promised myself  the day I found out I was going to be a father I would be nothing like my own father!  I promised to be there for my kid until the day I died.  I broke that promise.  And I broke it more than once.  But this time is different.  This time, I can’t fail.  Because if I fail, I don’t just fail my self.  I fail my family.  We might be fucked up and broken, but we’re still a family.  And I’m not willing to let that go.  I’ve been waiting my whole life to be a good father to Victoria, and now here she was, finally.  After a year and a half of silence, she was finally here. And I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but what ever was going to happen I was willing to face with my daughter.




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