SQUARED KIND OF LOVE

Today was the day, the big day. Journey kept nudging my arm, she was ready to go say something to him but I, on the other hand, was terrified. Every time I tried to take a step towards him it seemed like I was sinking like lightning into quicksand. I ignored her and continued to switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer, while my heart pounded.

“Jazz, you promised today would be the day. You promised we’d go introduce ourselves,” Journey whiningly said.

“I know what I said J, we will. Just give me a minute,” I said back to her, when really, I knew I didn’t need just a minute, I wanted to grab her hand and run home.

About 10 minutes later, I weirdly convinced myself I was ready, ready to go speak to the father who abandoned my pregnant mother and me 12 years ago.

***

While Journey was still growing inside my mom, I was the one who witnessed the drunk outburst every other night. I was the one who cleaned up the glass off the kitchen floor after he got so angry and started throwing things. But I was also the one he’d bring a new Minnie Mouse toy to or a huge bag of candy once he calmed down. I hated him for leaving me, I hated him for being the reason I hate birthdays. But there was always that piece of my heart that loved him more than anything in this world because I knew it was the military that messed up his mind and my father was still in there somewhere.

He left three days after Journey was born, which just happened to be my 7th birthday. I had a big birthday party with friends and family, and I was getting ready for bed at my grandma’s house, where we lived. I heard a soft knock, and it was him. He was holding a small pink bag behind his back and came and kneeled at my bed and handed me it. I opened the bag and found four matching necklaces. My dad looked up at me and said

“Do you know what this is,” while pointing at one of the necklaces “Do you know what it represents?”

“It’s just a cute design, right? Says our names too I think”

“It’s an infinity sign Jazzy and yes, it says Mommy, Daddy, Jazmine, and Journey”

I looked at him with such love in my eyes. He took mine and put it on me, I took his and put it on him. He handed me the last two and said

“Jazzy, baby, Daddy has to go away, I need you to give 1 to Mommy and when baby Journey is old enough give her the other. You’ll know when. Promise to never forget me but don’t hold onto my deferred dream of getting myself together. Live life and be everything and more that I know you can be, my little superstar.”

I begged him to stay. I told him whatever it was we could fix it together. The drinking, the anger, everything we could get through it. But we couldn’t. Deep down I knew, and he did too. He hugged me tight, and that brown beanie, rusted sand beach tan jacket, army fatigue pants, and black boots, were the last I saw of him.

***

Two months ago, my first time coming into Mel’s Laundromat, I saw an older man, slumped over in the corner, a used-to-be white blanket barely covering him, a dirty tan jacket, and a brown beanie, but most importantly, a silver infinity necklace with 4 names engraved in pink, dangling from his neck. The moment I saw it, I knew without a doubt exactly who that man was, and Journey quickly realized it too. I could always feel that he was close, something was always keeping me here in Collinsville.

***

“Ok…Ok J, c’mon,” I took her hand and we walked towards him. This time, I actually took a step; I couldn’t believe it. I didn’t know what his reaction would be, that was the most daunting part of it all.

Now, in this small laundromat, with just about 5 other families, me and my sister were about to speak to the man we’d only spoken to in our dreams for so long. We got to him, and he continued to stare out the window, I’m sure he heard us walk up, maybe he wanted to be alone, or maybe this was all a mistake. Journey, kneeling in front of him, in her silky soft voice said

“Hi,” she paused, still holding onto my hand, sweaty, shaking, she continued “Hi, my name is Journey, but everyone calls me J. And this is my big sister –”

“Jazz,” he interrupted.

My entire body tensed up, me, now kneeling too, I said “You remember me? You know who I am?”

He grabbed both me and J’s hand, “How could I ever forget my superstars, my angels, my beautiful daughters.”

There’s so much I want to say to him, so much we both need to say to him, so many questions we need answers to. My father was right in front of us, and he knew who we were, he knew this entire time. He held his necklace while looking at ours, and reached out and wrapped his arms around us, while whispering,

“Thank you, thank you for never giving up on me.”

As much as I wanted to fully give myself to this moment and embrace him, I couldn’t. I’ve known for a while this day was coming, but being in this moment, I felt torn. My heart is telling me to be happy he remembered us, be happy he was always so close, hell, just be happy he’s alive today. But my mind is tapping into an anger I’ve never felt before. I could feel myself about to burst into flames. I stood and backed up, tears filling my eyes, I looked at him and said

“Where did you go that night?”

“At first, I just went for a walk, I needed to clear my mind. I walked back up to the house, reached for the knob and was on my way back in but sitting on the porch was one of your teddy bears. I couldn’t come back, not until I fully got myself together, you needed me at my best, you deserved my best self.”

“And now? You’re living in a laundromat, why didn’t you come home?”

“Home?” he chuckled “That wasn’t home for me, just the thought of being back under that roof was suffocating.”

There was something about that sly laugh that angered me even more.

“Suffocating? And how do you think I felt? When you left Mom barely let me out of her sight. She was so afraid something in me would pull away from her too. I was the one suffocating, rarely being able to leave. You left me to take care of her, pregnant too.” I laughed “You forced me to paint a beautiful picture in my mind of you to tell Journey, you abandoned us and think you were the one suffocating? You were my best friend,” my voice cracked.

The tears now flowing like a waterfall down his face, Journey looked at us both and said

“Please stop. I get it okay; you both have feelings that need to be addressed but yelling back and forth won’t help.”

“J, you can have the family reunion you’ve always wanted, I’m out of here.”

“Wait,” both J and our father yelled out.

As soon as I turned around, she was right there. She grabbed my hand and walked me back to my sister and father. Looking at my father, still holding my hand and now holding Journeys in her other, she said

“I promised not to insert myself until any of you needed me. Justin, I’ve made my peace with you, but these girls want you in their life, need you. Jazz, we know how headstrong you are, it’s always reminded me of your father, but you must understand what he’s been through is tough, not many could walk a mile in his shoes. You two need to talk before me and J can join. We’re going up to my desk, talking and really taking in and listening to each other, we’ll be back.”

My father and I sat down and did just as my mother said. Instead of talking to each other, we listened. After learning my father’s full story, there was nothing I could do but throw my arms around him and hug him as tight as I could.

While looking on from behind her computer, my mother got up, grabbed Journey and they both ran over and joined our hug, this squared kind of love.

DaLona Smith about herself: As a writer, I enjoy creating pieces that connect people emotionally, mentally, and physically. I am beyond excited at the opportunity to share my work with you. I pride myself on being able to write for people of all kinds and different reading preferences. My goal is to spark conversation between readers and allow them the creative opportunity to get into the world of the story. I will never forget my sophomore year of high school, the year that kick-started my journey to becoming an author. It was in my AP English class that I first read All American Boys and Homeboyz, both books had characters that I related to and plots that stuck with me. Each page pulled me in tighter. After reading these books, I thought to myself, “I want to be able to connect with the world just like that through my writing.” From then on, I no longer thought of books as something to get through but something to get into. I hope you enjoy my story as much as I enjoyed creating it for readers like you!