Page 42 of Broken
“Yeah, insane really, all this time, and you never knew.” He laughs.
“You’re a fucking monster, how long have you known?”
“Know what? That you were the father?”
“Yes fuckface.”
“Since the night I answered the phone in college when we were sitting there studying.”
“That was almost five years ago, George, you’ve known the whole time?” I clench my fists at my sides and fly at him, hitting him hard in his cheek, knowing damn well, he won’t be able to finish what him and Hilary started, fucking prick.
This time, I manage to get out of his room without any more bombs being dropped, “Mr. Winston.” I holler. “Where’s Katherine?” I ask, rounding the corner as I come down the stairs.
He shoo’s me out of the front door, follows me out and closes it behind him. He hands me a piece of paper. “They can’t know where she is, they treat her like shit, and I regret allowing it to go on for so long. Please, tell my daughter I love her and that I would like to meet her daughter.” The sorrow in his eyes is palpable.
“Our daughter.” I tell him, still letting it sink in. I have a daughter. Her daughter is my daughter.
“She’s yours?” Mr. Winston’s eyebrows shoot up to his receding hairline.
“Yessir.” I nod my head.
“Then go get your girls.” He shakes my hand.
My girls.
Looking at the paper, there is an address hand written by Katherine. She’s been clear across the country from where I’ve been living for the last nearly five years. No matter what I've done in life, I seem to always come back to her. Dating Hilary was a distraction, proposing to her seemed like the right thing to do. Even though I never felt anything for Hilary as I did for Katherine. My entire heart beats for one woman, well. I suppose that's two girls now I have a daughter.
The airport line is stupidly long, who knew this many people were flying to Spokane? Not me. I bought my ticket from the car, right out in the parking lot. I parked in long-term parking, leaving my car there. I say my car, it's the one I had as a teenager that my parents let me use. They refused to let me have it when I decided to run off with Katherine for the summer.
We take one step forward and the line is halted again. I look up at the line, counting heads, sixteen. There are sixteen people blocking my path to the plane that will take me to my wife. My daughter. No matter what happens from here, I will stay in their lives, forever. If I have to change schools, then I'll do it. I'm not sure what I'll do with myself, since I have always wanted to be a lawyer. I'm sure I could find a school on the west coast. I just never looked since I knew I wanted Yale. I've always wanted Yale, but I'll give up everything for them.
When I finally make it to the person who checks the passes, I hold my phone up and they scan the QR code, I kick my shoes off, remove my belt, and empty my pockets, tossing them all into a bucket to be sent through the next line. Tickets first, then security. "Step through," a lady in a uniform says, she waves her wand over me and nods for me to collect my things. Moving quickly I gather my things, put my shoes and belt back on, and head for the terminal to catch the plane. I'm not sure what I'm going to do when I get there, but I know one thing is certain, I'm not fucking leaving, no matter what she says.
The lady at the terminal shouts, "Last call for Flight 231 to Spokane." Fucking hell. I make a mad dash for her and show her my ticket. She scans it and I'm down the hall to the plane. I'm led to my seat and the male flight attendant takes my bag and puts it in the overhead storage. How I managed to get a window seat, I'm not sure. I've already made reservations for a car at the rental place through the airport and as soon as I get the car, I'm gone. Buckling into my seat I stare out the window, imagining what my life would have been like if I had just answered her calls, or hell if I never left.
I could have been there for all these years, helping raise my daughter. Helping Katherine through the sleepless night, holding my baby girl after she was born. I've missed it all. The first time she slept through the night, her first words, her first steps, her first birthday. I've missed so many firsts, that I can't miss any more. Fuck, my head hits the window as I close my eyes picturing what it would have looked like. Katherine, sleeping with the baby on her chest. The three of us are at a park, walking together. The captain comes over the loudspeaker and makes his announcement, and the fasten seat belt light comes on. Just a little bit longer and I'll be on my way.
Feeling the plane move gives me a sort of calm, one that I haven't felt while waiting. I've heard most people hate the take-offs and the landings, but they're my favorite. The promise of something new. What lies beyond, that's where I want to be. Beyond my expectations, beyond my realm of normalcy. I've come to realize that my normal is a woman with thick black winged eyeliner and a fetish for black clothes. I wear pink because it reminds me of her, the way she was before, the way she was before Knox ruined her. It was her favorite color, and I wanted to keep that part of her alive. So here I sit, on a plane that is backing up to the runway, rocking my pink shirt on my way to meet my daughter.
I sit up on the plane, ready for the take off, my eyes still closed as I love to feel the motion of the plane while it speeds up. The undeniable monster of a machine making people believe in magic as it slices through the clouds. This magical plane will take me to them, to the life I shouldn’t have left.
Chapter Seventeen
Katherine
McKenna is sitting at the counter eating her avocado toast, why? Because it's her favorite food, I don't know where she got that from exactly as I'm a junk food hoe, but at least my girl is eating right. She loves her toast, barely toasted, her avocados sliced thin, an over easy egg on top, with her everything seasoning. This kid kills me sometimes. She does a little dance as she eats, the demons leaving her body, and the darn girl gets hella hangry. "Orange juice?" She asks kindly, holding her empty cup up.
"You've had a glass already, how about some milk or water?" I reply, taking her cup from her. I set it in the sink and grab her a new one.
"Water." I can hear her take another bite of her food as I put the new cup to the fridge to get her water from the door.
"Mommy has to work today, Miss Bailey will be over here in a little while," I tell her as I set the cup half full of water down.
Her light brown hair falls into her face and she uses her tiny hands to push it away so she can drink her water. "Mmm. So good." She giggles as she puts the water down. Everything about her is perfect, her cute little button nose, her soft loose ringlets, those dark big round eyes. I love her with my whole heart, and I will do anything to keep her safe and away from the chaos that my family brings. My father called me just before I left and asked to see McKenna. I told him that if he wanted to see my daughter, then he'd have to come to my house. I'm not putting her in the same house as my mother. I don't need her judging me for how my daughter looks, acts, or dresses. "I'm done, can I go put my dress on?" She asks so clearly. The last six months her vocabulary has shot through the roof and I'm so proud to hear her speaking in full sentences, with manners. I've never shown her a dark day in her life, and she's thriving. When I have my episodes, which are far and few these days, I call Bailey to come sit with McKenna. She doesn't need to see me manic. I'm just glad I've learned to recognize the signs. I take medications for my 'chemical imbalance' as they called it, but sometimes I'll forget. There are times when I won't remember for a week. There's also been times when my body has gotten used to the meds and I become immune. The doctor switches the meds and usually, within a few days, I'm fine. But sometimes, I'm not.
Thankfully I have Bailey. Bailey is the daughter of the man who trained me how to be a tattoo artist. I studied under him for two years, worked in his shop, and completed my hours. Then for two more years, I just worked with him instead of for him. He said I had a natural talent for tattooing, that I could put on skin what most couldn't put on paper. Then a year ago I started the process of opening my own shop, and I made my dream come true eight months ago. Everyone traveled to see me, even before I owned my own shop. But now that I have my own shop, I'm booked six months out. I have two days off with McKenna and every morning with her.
"Brush your teeth." I shout to her as she runs down the hall. I disappear into my room to start getting ready for work, thick makeup, and of course my black clothes. Today I'll rock a pair of biker boots though, after wearing my thigh highs on the plane because I lost a good shoe somewhere, I need a break from the platforms. The doorbell chimes and I hear McKenna running down the hall. "Careful, what if it's not Bailey!" I stand up, trying to catch her, but as I turn the corner, she has the door open and I drop my boot to the floor.