Page 18 of Poetry of Flowers

MATILDA

When Kayden let us out at my house, I noticed my father’s car in the garage. It was weird, normally he was home around eight in the evening but never this early.

We ran towards my front door because it started to rain again, and I didn’t take another look at my father’s car.

School had been alright today, nothing new. All classes had felt the same, I drifted off during most of them, and didn’t really listen. I didn’t mind, the stuff I needed to know for the exams I would catch up on afterward. I always learned better when I was alone anyway.

“God, I love your shoes, I think I have to get those too,” my cousin told me as we both kicked off our shoes and walked into my kitchen.

“I thought you don’t like shoes that don’t make you at least two inches taller?” I asked her with a small smile as I saw my father sitting at our table with a cup of coffee.

When he noticed us, he put on the same fake smile I put on every morning. “Hello Tillie, hello Autumn,” he welcomed us and stood up.

He’s drunk. I can tell straightaway. When you’ve seen the same thing for nine years, you can tell even from far away.

He came over to kiss the top of my head.

“Hey, Dad,” I gave him a smile, and Autumn did the same.

“Hi, Uncle Jonas,” Autumn glanced uncomfortably between me and Dad. “Can we go upstairs? Gotta be home soon,” she lied. Earlier, she had even asked me if she could sleep over. My cousin was just trying not to make things any more awkward.

“Actually, I need to talk to my daughter. Why don’t you go upstairs, and Tillie will come up once we’re finished?” he smiled at his niece and she nodded.

“Of course, you call if you need rescuing, little cousin,” she joked as she went upstairs.

I stared after her, not wanting to hear what my father had to say. He seemed nervous, so I knew it wasn’t anything good. I couldn’t take any bad news at the moment.

Did he lose his job? Was that why he was home so early? We’d have to move out. I worked in the movie theater after school. I cleaned and got paid ten dollars an hour, which is very generous of Mr. Gallon. Ten hours a week equaled around four-hundred extra each month to buy groceries.

Olivia and Patrick helped us out sometimes too, but if he lost his job, there’d be nothing they could do. I didn’t even have money for college. I had to get a scholarship, or I would end up working here in this city for the rest of my life.

“Let’s sit down, sweetheart, you want a hot chocolate?”

“If we had cocoa, we could make hot chocolate, if we had milk,” I joked, and he nodded as he rubbed his eyes.

“Then let’s just sit down.” Dad pulled back a chair for me and I sat down cross-legged. It was definitely something serious, if he tried to make the situation more comfortable with a drink or food. He always did that when he had to say something difficult.

He sat down in front of me and took a deep breath, “Matilda, I have a problem.”

“Don’t call me that.”

My father looked up from his hands, “What?”

“Don’t call me Matilda. Call me Tillie, it makes me nervous,” I explained and brushed my hair behind my ears.

“Right, Tillie... you noticed I don’t have a healthy relationship with alcohol.”

How could I not have noticed? You’re barely here with your thoughts, especially not when I need you. Your actions forced me to be a grown up at nine years old. I’m the adult Remy needs because you can’t. What you put me through is not fair, but I also can’t be angry at you because I understand it. We’re the same, we both never stopped grieving.

But I couldn’t tell him any of this, it would hurt his already broken feelings, and I didn’t want to push him over the edge.

“I don’t want that anymore, Remy asked me this morning why I never come to his school shows, and it finally clicked in my brain. I want to be there for you two, it’s not fair what I’m putting you both through.”

No, it’s not.

“Why did Remy make you realize it, but not your ten-year-old daughter sobbing for her daddy to stand up when she was sick and needed her father to comfort her while she cried during breaks in between throwing up in the room next to him?”

I didn’t think about my words before they left my mouth, but I had a right to ask him this, hadn’t I?

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