Just Because of You

by Gianna Gabriela

  “In a few minutes, I’ll be hungry again.”

  I set her down on the floor when we reach the kitchen. “Do you wanna go upstairs, shower, and change into pajamas? Then maybe you’ll be hungry enough to eat.”

  “And then can we watch a movie, Daddy?” she asks.

  Just like my mom, I can’t say no to her either, so I guess we’re all spoiling Ari. She’s a good kid though, deserves everything I can possibly give to her and more. “I don’t know,” I tell her, putting on resistance I know won’t last.

  “Pretty pleaseeee,” she begs, looking up at me with the puppy dog eyes she knows get her what she wants every time. I crouch down so we’re eye to eye.

  “Give me three reasons why we should watch a movie,” I tell her, “And then we’ll see if that convinces me.” I read somewhere that allowing kids to try and use arguments to convince you to do what they want helps them develop their intelligence, so I’ve been making Ari do it.

  I look at my daughter’s face as she thinks of the best three reasons she could possibly use to convince me. The reality is, she doesn’t have to work that hard, we’re definitely watching a movie. My mom always said that everything’s a teaching moment though, so I let her continue.

  “First, today is Friday. So, it’s the weekend,” she starts counting her reasons with her fingers. “The weekend means time to rest from a long week.”

  “Okay, that’s one.” We still have to be up early tomorrow. I have to drop her off at Grandma’s again and go to school for practice.

  “Two…” she starts, “I put away all of my toys and my room is clean.”

  “Clean room, I like that. What’s the final reason?”

  She gives me her winning smile. “Because you love me.” That one wouldn’t win her a real debate, but it works on me every time.

  I laugh. “This is true, but that’s not a real reason to watch a movie.”

  “Yes, it is!”

  “I’ll let you get away with it this time,” I tell her, knowing very well I’ll let her get away with that one always.

  She kisses me on the cheek. “Thanks, Daddy. I’ll be down soon.”

  “What do you want for dinner?”

  “Can I have mac and cheese?” I knew she was going to say that. I was so sure of it that the mac and cheese is already in the oven.

  “Of course you can, Ari.”

  “You’re the best dad in the whole wide world,” she tells me. I doubt that, but I’m definitely trying to be the best father I can be to her. I’ll do anything for this girl. She’s my world.

  She starts walking away but, before she disappears from my sight, I ask her one more question. “What movie do you want to watch?” I throw a prayer that the answer isn’t what I think it will be.

  “Moana please,” she says, exactly what I feared she would.

  “Are you sure?” I ask her, but what I want to say is, do you really want to watch this movie for the tenth straight weekend in a row?

  She nods excitedly. “I love Moana.”

  “Okay, Moana it is,” I give in. When it comes to Ari, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make her happy. Nothing I wouldn’t do to see the smile on her face that makes all my mistakes okay.

  “I’ll be back soon!” she says, disappearing down the hall. While I wait, I start setting up the kitchen table.

  Ten minutes later, my phone rings. I fish it out of my back pocket and my mood instantly sours when I look at the caller ID. Katie’s calling.

  Katie is Ari’s mom, or at least the woman who gave birth to her. We were never really together. We had one messy night after I’d gotten drunk out of my mind and saw her at a party. She walked up to me, brushed her hands by mine, and led me to an empty room. I gave in. She was a pretty girl and I was going through a rough time.

  It was one night of sex that changed my life.

  I’d like to think it changed it for the better, I mean, I have Ari, but it also caused some chaos in the process.

  I think about not picking up the call but knowing that won’t do anything to keep her away, I answer it instead, hoping the sooner I talk to her the faster I can hang up.

  “Hi, are you there?” she says the moment I put the phone to my ear.

  “What do you want?” I ask instantly, not hiding my lack of desire to speak with her. Whenever she calls it’s never to see how Ari is doing. It’s always about something else. Something to do with her.

  “So, I’m having a bit of a tough time,” she starts and I can instantly tell where this is going.

  “What do you need?” I ask anyway.

  “My parents cut me off…” she starts and I roll my eyes. It’s always the same story with her.

  A dry chuckle escapes me. “And?” I’ve never liked Katie’s parents. They never liked me either. When Katie realized she was pregnant with my child, her parents gave her an ultimatum. She could either get rid of ‘it’ or lose her millions of dollars in inheritance.

  She chose to have Ari and I’m so glad she did because this little girl is my everything. I owe Katie for making that choice and only that. Because when Katie realized that her parents were serious about taking away her millions of dollars, memberships to country clubs, and all the luxuries she’d grown up with, she wished she had chosen differently.

  I could see regret painted on her face.

  At first, I felt bad for Katie and her family outing her. But then, one day I woke up to the doorbell. She stood on the other side of my door with tear stains in her eyes and my daughter in her arms.

  That’s when she changed her choice.

  She ‘got rid of the kid’ in the only way she could now.

  “I can’t do this…” she said to me as she cried uncontrollably. I wondered what she was referring to. I scanned to make sure she was okay, that no one was following her. That she wasn’t hurt.

  “Can’t do what?” I asked, taking Ari from her hands so that she didn’t get sick from being outside in the freezing cold.

  “I don’t want to be poor. I don’t want this life. I didn’t ask for it.”

  “Neither one of us asked for it.” But we were both reckless.

  “But you… you didn’t lose anything, and I’m losing everything,” she replied. Katie didn’t know me at all. I guess she thought because my parents weren’t taking away the millions of dollars we never had, that our one night hadn’t affected my life too. She couldn’t be more wrong. I lost more than anything she could ever gain with money.

  “I want my old life back,” Katie said as she began crying uncontrollably. I wanted to understand her. I wanted to feel bad for her, but with my daughter in my arms, I couldn’t. I couldn’t empathize with her not wanting our child because she wanted all the money instead. That she missed the money more than she loved our kid was something I couldn’t understand.

  I didn’t blame her for thinking about her old life. I thought about mine too. I wanted the girl I had to let go because I didn’t want to ruin her. Didn’t want her to be disappointed in me. Or worse, to stay with me. I didn’t deserve her. I wanted a lot of things, but I had new priorities. I had a daughter now and I needed to be there for her more than anything. Katie refused to do that.

  “We can’t just go back to where things were,” I told her, trying to make her see reason.

  “You might not be able to, but I can.” Those were the words she said to me before she walked away from our lives.

  She didn’t call for a year. A whole year we didn’t hear from her while she was off on her own. Katie didn’t bother to check up on her daughter. She missed out, by choice, on her daughter’s first steps, first words, first birthday.

  I tried to call her. Tried to go to her parent’s house and make sure she was okay. Her parents gleefully showed me pictures of Katie on a boat with some friends in what they told me was Mexico. I walked away from that house that day and lost all respect for her. I focused all my attention on my daughter. I wasn’t going to abandon Ari like Katie had. I promised to be
a mom and dad for her.

  “Do you think you could send me some money?” Katie’s voice brings me back to the present.

  I bite my tongue so I don’t say what I want to. “Why would I do that?” I say my words low enough for no one else to hear. Whatever money I do have, I need to use to secure my daughter’s future, not fund her absentee mother’s vacations.

  “Because… you owe me.”

  “Why do I owe you?” I ask, entertaining her ludicrous words.

  “I gave you Ari.” Wow.

  “She wasn’t a toy or a gift. She was a fuc— a child,” I stop myself from cursing. “I don’t owe you anything. Don’t call again,” I tell her then hang up the phone when I see Ari walking to the kitchen.

  She perches herself on the seat opposite mine. “Who was that?” she asks.

  “No one important,” I tell her, trying to sound calm and collected though inside I’m fuming.

  “Was it my mom?” she follows up and for a second I wish she weren’t as smart as she is. I wish she were still young and couldn’t notice her mother’s absence.

  I promised myself I would never lie to her, so I nod.

  “Is she doing okay?” she asks. Her mother didn’t bother to ask how she was doing and yet that’s the first thing that comes to my six-year old’s mind.

  “She’ll be okay,” I tell her. Her parents will bail her out. As long as she does what they want, they’ll always come to her rescue.

  “I hope so,” Ari says and I can tell she’s got something on her mind. I bet she has a million questions she can’t really put into words yet. One day, I’m going to have to start answering them.

  “You ready for mac and cheese?” I ask her, effectively changing the topic of the conversation and bringing a smile to my daughter’s face.

  She nods eagerly. “Mac and cheese and Moana.”

  We finish dinner and I throw some popcorn in the microwave. “I’ll be right back!” Ari says, running out of the kitchen.

  When the popcorn is ready I head over to the living room preparing myself for the torture to begin. “I’ll start the movie without you,” I yell jokingly, knowing that the moment I say that Ari will magically reappear.

  “Not yet, I’m coming!” she shouts from her bedroom.

  I search for the movie on Netflix. Seconds later, Ari comes in and the first thing I notice is that she’s not wearing her pajamas anymore.

  “What happened to the pajamas?” I ask though I know the answer. I was surprised she was wearing her pajamas in the first place. Friday nights are reserved for Moana and princess dresses.

  “I needed to wear this so I can be a princess too,” she says pointing at her dress. She’s wearing a blue dress, like the ones you see on the TV shows, my mom got her and a tiara.

  “What are you hiding back there?” I ask when I realize one of her hands is still behind her back.

  She gives me a devious smile. “When I was with Grandma, I got you something to wear.”

  “Something for me to wear?” I ask, wondering what the two of them could’ve possibly gotten me.

  “Yup,” she says, bringing her hands forward. “I got you a tiara of your own!” she announces.

  I look at the tiara she holds up to me. “That’s pretty.”

  She nods. “It is. I wanted you to wear it so that we can both be princesses.”

  I look at the excitement and love in her eyes as I take the tiara from her hands.

  Giving it back to her, I lower myself from the couch onto the floor. “You don’t want to wear it?” she asks, taking the tiara back, a pout replacing what was once a smile.

  “I think you should put it on me. I don’t want to mess it up. A princess’ crown should never be crooked, right?” I ask and the smile returns. At times like these I feel on top of the world, like I’m doing everything right.

  She beams at me. “That’s right! I’ll put it on you and then it’ll be perfect!” she says, placing the tiara on my head.

  Standing up from the floor, I twirl. “How does this look?” I ask as I pose for her.

  “It looks beautiful!” she says, clapping her hands animatedly.

  “Are you ready to watch the movie now?” I ask, realizing that it’s getting late.

  “Yes, but you have to keep the tiara on the whole time we watch the movie.”

  “I wouldn’t dare take this off,” I tell her.

  We press play and start our 100th viewing of Moana. Thirty minutes into the movie Ari falls asleep, like she always does, and I finish watching the movie by myself, tiara still on my head and all. I promised I wouldn’t take it off until the movie ended and I stopped breaking promises long ago.

  7

  AMARI

  I close the door to my house and turn around. I give myself a moment to take in my surroundings. A week ago, I was scared out of my mind about who I may encounter coming back. I was worried about a million different things. I didn’t want to be here.

  I did, but I didn’t.

  Right now, I watch as the wind picks up slowly and the leaves move along with it. The orange-red of the leaves reminds me of a fall I didn’t get to appreciate much while I was away. Autumn has always been my favorite season and looking at all the trees around me now, I know that it still is. I still had fall, but it’s different here, it’s better.

  There’s something about the trees preparing to let go of everything that encourages me to do the same. The trees lose their leaves every year, but they don’t die. They remain standing, and after the cold and snow and rain showers, they grow back their leaves. Every year. Like clockwork. Not allowing themselves to be defeated.

  Today, I decide to take a page from Mother Nature’s playbook. I won’t give up. I won’t stand down. I’m going to move forward regardless of what comes my way.

  I smile at myself, feeling like I’m genuinely progressing after feeling like I’d been stuck for years.

  Looking down at my watch, I realize that it’s time to go. It’s been a week and the work keeps piling up on my desk. Between planning a parent-teacher conference and meeting with all the teachers to see what they need, I have an insurmountable amount of tasks to get through.

  The fourth graders are taking a trip to the zoo. The first graders are going to the aquarium. And the fifth graders are having a field day. Oh, and let’s not forget the father-daughter dance on the calendar as well.

  Unlocking and getting into the driver side of my car, I realize that regardless of all the work that’s waiting for me, I’m enjoying myself. Turning on the car, I pull out of the driveway. A few minutes later, my phone rings and I click the button on my steering wheel to answer.

  “Hey girl heeey!” Emely’s voice fills the vehicle.

  “Wow, someone’s back to life,” I tell her. I haven’t spoken with her in a week. A whole week. Granted, I didn’t call her because everything was sort of chaotic, but I’ll give her a hard time for not calling me anyway. That’s what best friends are supposed to do.

  “What do you mean?” she asks, clueless as ever.

  I slow down as I approach a red light. “I mean, I’ve been here a whole week and you haven’t messaged or called me to make sure I was alive.”

  “You’re so dramatic!” she says, laughing from the other end of the line.

  I smile to myself and keep driving when the light turns green. “I’m just saying, if something had happened to me, it would be too late for you to do something.”

  “Well thankfully you’re okay.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I can tell.”

  “How so?”

  “Because if something bad had actually happened, you would’ve called me to tell me instead of waiting for me to check in with you.” This is true. When my world came crashing down, she was the first person I went to. It was the first time I had ever skipped class. The first time I had broken the rules, but there was no way I was going to stay in school that day after what I’d just learned. It was the last day of cl
ass, so it’s not like it mattered.

  “This is true.”

  “I know you so well,” Emely says triumphantly.

  Turning right, I immediately spot Bragan Elementary. It’s in the same strip as the high school, only that’s a ways down the road.

  “How are you? I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too. I stayed in Mexico this week. The client wanted me to get more exposure to his business.”

  “And is that the real business or are you trying to tell me something?” I ask, laughing.

  “Eww. No. The real business. His nightclubs. He’s tried to hit on me, but he’s like twenty years my senior, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he’s also definitely not my type.”

  “He hits on you?”

  “Yeah…” she says, sounding a little frustrated. Emely is gorgeous and single but not for lack of men lining up at her door. Her relationship status is a personal choice.

  Pulling into the parking lot of the school, I transfer the call from the speaker system in the car to my phone.

  “What’d you do?”

  “Ignore it, like I always do. Anyway,” she says, changing the topic, “we sealed the deal, so I’m officially handling his account. Work gave me a pretty nice bonus for landing them, so what do you think about getting away this coming weekend?”

  I shut the car off and mull over her offer. “I don’t think I can head out for a weekend just yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “What if they need something at the school?” I tell her.

  “You’re an elementary school principal not a first responder. They’ll survive.” Even if they would, it just feels too rushed to take a weekend trip when I’m still trying to figure out what I’m doing. I don’t think I bought enough groceries to last me the week. There are a few things to repair around the house. I need to buy more clothes. There’s just too much going on to take a break.

  “This is true, but I have a lot of school events coming up, so I just want to settle in properly before leaving again.”

  “Wow. At first you didn’t want to go there and now you don’t want to leave,” she says, reminding me of my hesitance to come here.