by John Hunt
Doll House
John Hunt
© Copyright John Hunt 2017
Published by Black Rose Writing
www.blackrosewriting.com
© 2017 by John Hunt
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.
The final approval for this literary material is granted by the author.
First digital version
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Print ISBN: 978-1-61296-807-0
PUBLISHED BY BLACK ROSE WRITING
www.blackrosewriting.com
Print edition produced in the United States of America
This book is dedicated to my wife, Louise.
Special thanks to my sister, Alana, who spent hours of her free time to read and suggest ways in which to make the book better. In general, thanks to all of my family (especially the boy), for their encouragement and support.
Thanks also must be given to my friend, Kyle Grant, who read and offered suggestions for the betterment of the story.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
-1-
-2-
-3-
-4-
-5-
-6-
-7-
-8-
-9-
-10-
-11-
-12-
-13-
-14-
-15-
-16-
-17-
-18-
-19-
-20-
-21-
-22-
-23-
-24-
-25-
-26-
-27-
-28-
-29-
-30-
-31-
-32-
-33-
-34-
-35-
-36-
-37-
-38-
-39-
-40-
Black Rose Writing Info
-1-
“Is Dale okay with the break up?”
Olivia sipped her coffee, licked away the foam moustache and said, “I guess. He didn’t pitch a fit or anything. How could he be okay with it? We’d been together for a while. I don’t like it, but it’s the right thing to do, you know?”
Harry nodded, turning the coffee cup on the table with his fingers. They sat in Starbucks with light music playing in the background, people moving and the rich smell of coffee and chocolate thick enough to touch. They placed themselves by the window because he wanted to keep an eye on his car, amazed how much of Olivia’s stuff they had crammed in his Prius. After loading it, he had to lean on the hatch with all his body weight to get it closed. They had stuffed it with all the things she would need for school and items she probably wouldn’t need. Olivia was starting university on Monday. It hurt to let her go, a hand squeezing his heart. He didn’t like it. But, like she said, even if you don’t like it, you should do the right thing. He thought that’s what she said. Maybe he paraphrased her a little. Even though he felt the pending empty nest, he couldn’t deny the tingle of excitement for her. It was a good time in her life, to leave home for the first time and travel into the unknown. Like going on an adventure with no treasure map to guide the way, armed with good judgement and moral character. It had been his job to equip her with those attributes and he believed he had done well enough. Exceptional young woman. Isn’t that what all dads thought of their children? Maybe yes, maybe no.
Harry scanned the coffee shop noting MacBooks, tablets, headphones and ebooks. People isolating themselves in public with electronics. Might as well have stayed home if all they wanted to do was drink coffee and browse the internet. Jeez, he realized he was getting old. It happened quick. One day you woke up, looked around and started saying things like, “It was better back then,” or, “Music nowadays is just noise,” and when the words leave your lips, you’re stunned, thinking, man, when did this old guy appear?
“You okay, daddy?”
“What? Yeah.”
“You were frowning and staring off into space. That thing you do when you’re brooding.”
“Brooding? I don’t brood. I’m more of a pensive person. Brooding sounds negative.”
“Brooding is negative. And you look it, when you frown like that.”
She was concerned and he knew she had reservations about leaving home as well. It had been the two of them for so long. She could stay at home and go to a local college and maybe not even have to break up with Dale. Everything stays the same. She would do it more for him than herself. And because he knew this and wanted to be a good dad even if he lost a part of his heart when she left, he smiled and said, “I’m just excited for you. This is going to be good for you.”
“Yeah, but is it going to good for you?”
“Of course it is. This is natural. Kids grow up, kids leave home. It’s the way things are supposed to go. And I’m glad you turned out the way you did. I’m stunned, actually, with all my bumbling.”
“You were great, dad. I couldn’t have asked for better.”
“Me either, kiddo.”
She sipped her coffee and with his words, some tension eased from her shoulders. She smiled and put a hand over his.
He grinned and shook his head.
“What?”
“Remember when I tried to tell you about-” he glanced around the coffee shop and when certain no one was paying them any attention, he whispered, “your period?”
Olivia chuckled and then groaned, “Oh my, that was a disaster. You started sweating and stuttering. Like the time you tried to explain the birds and the bees. I mean, who even says that anymore?”
He said, “I wanted to puke. My stomach flipped around on me and I thought I was going to heave when I took the tampon out of the wrapper and tried to show you where it went. Remember that? Holy Christ on a popsicle stick I sucked.”
He sipped on his drink, his face a bright red, a rueful smile dressing his face.
Olivia, laughing at him, drew a chuckle from him. The camaraderie of comedy.
“You didn’t suck. You just didn’t have a vagina.”
“Jeez. Keep it down would ya?”
“You did it all alone, dad. I think you did a terrific job, cause I am pretty awesome.” She grinned, amusement a dancing jewel in her eye.
Beautiful, like her mother. He thanked a God he didn’t believe in she didn’t take after him. He wasn’t ugly but he wasn’t good looking either. The crown of his head decided to start pushing the hair out too early in his opinion. He fussed over it this morning, taking care to comb his hair over the growing pink crown without looking like he was trying to cover it w
hich everyone, including him, knew was impossible. He lost the hair on the top of his head where he wanted it and instead it sprouted out of his ears where he didn’t want it. What is the evolutionary purpose of growing hair in your ears as you aged? Harry liked that Olivia had been spared any resemblance to him. You always want the best for your children and a daughter with his looks? That would’ve been less than ideal.
Her mother, Samantha, had been stunning. She was just not interested in being a mother. Or maybe she didn’t want to be involved with him. The result was the same either way. After Olivia had been born, she left her with him, said she never wanted a child and left town. She hadn’t been heard or seen from again. He got a beautiful daughter out of it, from a one night stand with a woman who had been way out of his league.
He remembered the night he had met her. Flabbergasted would have been an understatement to his reaction when she bought him a drink. They moved from the bar to a booth and spoke for most of the night. She laughed at his jokes, reached to touch him with her fingers, punctuating her words with manicured nails. She smelled like strawberries. Not her perfume, her skin. Like goddamn strawberries.
He hadn’t expected marriage. He knew he had been a drunk decision of regret on her part. Still, to just leave and never want to be involved with their wonderful daughter? Harry couldn’t fathom it. Hard thing to explain when Olivia got old enough to ask where was her mother and why did she leave. A part of him wondered if she sometimes wished her mother would come back and take her away from her awkward father. Maybe she dreamed about it late at night, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars he had pasted to her ceiling.
“Yeah. You are marginally awesome.”
“Marginal?”
“Yes. After strong reflection, I believe your awesomeness is marginal at this point. After university, I’m sure your stock will rise, but it depends.”
“Oh yeah, depends on what?”
“On how often you call and visit your father.”
“Well, I thought I’d stop by for Christmas, to get presents of course. Oh, and if I run out of money, I may come home. You know, only if I need something.”
Harry clutched his chest, “My heart! You’ve broken it! But I will accept those terms.”
Olivia laughed, “C’mon dad. I’ll call and visit as much as I can. I’m not even gone yet and I already miss you. I’m going to miss this.”
“This?”
“Yeah. This. Moments like this.”
“It is a pretty good one. And because I raised you to be awesome, I think you’re going to have a great time.”
“Thanks dad. I think I will too.”
“Don’t get pregnant.”
“Dad!”
“Stay away from crystal meth and boys named Andy.”
“What? Andy?”
“Shifty little bastards, boys’ named Andy.”
She laughed and said, “You’re so random!”
“Hey!” Feigning offence he said, “These are pearls of parental wisdom. You should treat them as such. Andy and crystal meth? Terrible.”
She raised her eyebrows and after a quick glance at her watch said, “It’s time to go. I gotta be on residence soon. Where’s Uncle Frank? I thought he was helping us.”
Such big blue eyes watching him and he remembered picking her up after the first day of kindergarten. She looked at him with the absolute trust particular to children and raised her arms to be lifted up and carried. He never thought he could love someone so much and feel the love in return. He had lifted her off the ground and walked her to the car in his arms. She had jabbered in his ear about her day and the friends she met. Harry, listening and nodding, wondered how much love can a heart hold? Limitless. His heart anyways.
Harry checked his watch and said, “Frank? He’s gonna meet us there. You’re right. It’s time to scoot. We gotta long drive ahead of us.”
“Dad. It’s an hour. I’m only an hour away.”
“Like I said, a long drive. Probably have to fill up twice. On the way there and on the way back.”
“You drive a Prius. You won’t have to fill it up until next month.”
He nodded, “They do get good mileage don’t they?”
She stood and he followed her out to the car.
They drove to the university of Guelph from their home town of Hamilton. They talked, comfortable with each other. Harry thought even if she wasn’t his daughter, she’d be someone he’d actually like. A good person. Was it parental blindness? Could be. He didn’t think so. He could tell by the way her friends greeted her and how Dale had held her in reverence that there was something about her. She was the person people glanced at when she entered a room. She was the person dogs never barked at.
He did alright, as a father. Even the teenage years weren’t all that bad. They weren’t that good either. A few sleepless nights wishing he had someone to talk to about it. Frank, the consummate bachelor, never had anything helpful to say. Harry had no idea how to talk to her when she came home smelling of dope, giggling at nothing particularly funny. Still, compared to some of the stories he’d heard he figured he survived the years of the teen relatively unscathed.
They arrived in the city and followed the signs posted on the Hanlon Highway to the university. Smaller than Hamilton and less industrialized, Guelph was a pretty city. Old trees, plenty of green-space, a town built around and accommodating to the university, Harry believed Olivia would be safe here. One of the safest cities in Canada according to Statistics Canada. The sprawling university grounds bloomed before them. Older red-brick buildings beside newer glass and steel ones. Long expanses of grass sprouting thick trunked trees with branches drooping from the weight of leaves. Moving-in day, the roads around the campus were clogged with inching cars packed with laundry hampers, lamps, and the detritus of student living. The roads wound around the buildings creating a daunting maze. After many glances at a glossy map in a pamphlet, they found the right building. Frank stood out front, ogling the passing girls.
“Jeez, Uncle Frank, put your eyes back in your head would you? You look like a lion at a watering hole.”
“Yes, of course. Should I have worn sunglasses you think? Then, no one can see where I’m looking.”
Olivia laughed and said, “You know, you’re old enough to be their father.”
He waved the statement off, “Nonsense. I’m younger than your dad, you know. By quite a lot. I’m more like an older cousin, handsome, witty and so much more attractive because, as a cousin, I have to be off limits. The risk of birth defects and all.”
Harry said, “Alright, alright. Let’s get her unloaded and then you two can carry on your conversation about how Frank is a creeper.”
“Creeper? Me?” He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows.
Olivia laughed.
They lugged her stuff to her room, weaving and twisting past smiling students, happy to be out from under their parents’ watchful eye. Harry noticed a few male heads turn to look at his daughter and a knot of worry tightened in his guts. People put drugs in drinks. He exhaled and reminded himself he trusted Olivia. She knew more about what went on than he did. She would be fine.
After Harry placed the last box in the room, he leaned against a desk drinking a Coke. Olivia drank a Coke Zero. Frank checked his watch like he had somewhere to be.
Harry said, “You need a hand unpacking all this?”
“No.”
“Alright. I’ll get going then.”
Frank said, “Yeah. Cool. I gotta go too. So, I’ll leave you two cry babies alone to say your goodbyes.” He pointed at Olivia, “I’ll expect to see you on Thanksgiving young lady.”
“Depends. Are you gonna bring a date? A classic Frank date.”
“This should be good. What’s a classic Frank date?”
“All looks, no substance.”
“It hurts that I’m so transparent. But, of course. I don’t date for conversation. I have you and your dad for that. The few times a year I decide to show up anyways. Well, take care. Remember, try out as many dudes as you can before settling for one.”
Harry said, “Frank! C’mon man!”
He raised his hands, “It’s good advice.”
He scurried out the door when Harry’s mouth turned into a thin line and said, “See you.”
Harry jabbed a thumb at Frank’s back and said, “Quite a character.”
“Yeah.”
He stood and she hugged him and he squeezed her right back. Harry thought, keep it together! Don’t you cry! She smelled of memories. Her first walk, her first words, her first bike ride, her first day of school, all the images popping through the hippocampus in his brain. Weird, to hold your heart in your arms and know you must let it go. He released her first. Did his eyes have a bit of shine to them? Definitely. Olivia faked not noticing very well.
“I’ll be home for Thanksgiving. You’ll pick me up right?”
“Absolutely. Let me know the time and I’ll be here. Frank’s date should be entertaining. Provided she can string some words together to form a sentence.”
She rolled her eyes, “Can’t wait.”
“I know right? At least you know it’ll be interesting.”
“Frank’s dates usually are.”
“I’ll see you then?”
“Yeah. Drive safe dad. I’ll call you.”
“Once a week?”
“Maybe twice.”
He pointed at her, “I’m holding you to that.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll call you twice a week and see you in a month or so.”
