No Strings Attached Ch. 04

Jon knew he should have left long ago. He had been here for hours. His early dinner long since finished. He had eaten two pieces of pie as an excuse to remain. He remembered the taste of the pie that night. He remembered everything about that night. Whether this was as good as that had been, he would never know. His sense of smell and taste deadened by those flames too.

He watched her clean up the dining area, refill the condiment containers, and wipe down each chair and table as he had that night. The cook had left over half an hour ago. Alison had taken Hope home a couple of hours earlier. Jon knew where they lived. He had felt like some stalker as he followed her that first night.

Of course, he had excused it as a need to protect Alicia. She still did not have better sense than to take the nightly deposit to the bank all alone. He had expected her to cross the street to the row of apartments where they had gone that night. But instead, she had continued down the main street.

It was a good ten or fifteen-minute walk to the quiet street with its scattering of a handful of non-descript single-story brick houses. The woman should have driven. It would have been safer. So, he had taken to guarding her each night. Of course, she did not know that.

She had moved on to cleaning up behind the counter. Her actions practiced as if she had done it a million times. Perhaps she had. He knew so little of her life. Had nothing to go by except a single night in her arms and the furtive glimpses of the past few days.

She lifted the coffee pot and walked towards the booth where he sat. Without a word, she poured the remnants in his cup. He expected her to go back to her cleaning. Instead, she took a seat across from him. She put the coffee pot down on the table next to her. Her hands clasped in front of her. Her eyes were downcast. Long moments ticked by. Jon did not know what to say. Neither it seemed, did she.

When she shifted, Jon thought she rise and go back to her duties. But she reached into the pocket of the white apron she wore and pulled out a piece of paper. She did not even glance up at him as she unfolded it and placed it on the table in front of him.

"I was called to the school today."

He saw tears slip from the corners of her eyes. He ached to kiss them away but reminded himself he had no right. The only thing he could do was listen; if she needed someone to share her burdens with, it was the least he could do.

"I've tried so hard. Most of the time, I think I'm doing a pretty good job with her."

Words of reassurance were on his lips, but before he could utter them, she continued, "Then something like this happens. And I know there are somethings I can never give Hope, holes in her I can never fill. I should have known that. I grew up with those same holes, made up the same fantasies."

She finally looked up. Those brown eyes that had filled his dreams were brimming with unshed tears as others coursed down her cheeks. "But this time, there is something I can do. It may not be much. And I certainly have no right to ask you this."

Whatever she wanted, he would do. Anything to halt those tears that ripped his heart apart as much as that explosion had his body, mind, and life. She had only to tell him what she needed. He would do it somehow. He was not prepared for her next words.

"I know I promised you no-string-attached. And this is a helluva string. But please, please, I beg you, for Hope's sake," she pushed the paper closer to him.

For the first time, Jon looked down at it. The words across the top burned into his brain - Family Tree.

"I promise I won't draw you any deeper. I mean, Jon is a common name. Hope, hell, I don't even know your last name. Shit, I don't care, don't even bother with it. Whatever you can do."

She shook her head as she tried to draw the paper back. Jon's unscarred right hand covered hers, captured the paper beneath.

"I'm sorry. This was a bad idea. I don't know what I was thinking. This isn't your problem. Forget I said anything."

Alicia rose from the table and ran into the back of the diner, leaving him alone to stare at the half-completed paper. Her words, their unstated meaning, echoing in his scarred mind as he read the first line - Guadalupe Hope Flores.

Above it, in a child's scrawl, Alicia Maria Flores. The two rows above that were complete, but the other side of the sheet was blank. Well, not exactly blank. They were marred with the raised scars of dried tear stains. Were they Hope's tears or Alicia's? Maybe both.

Jon folded the paper and put it in his pocket as he placed a wad of bills under the coffee cup. He needed to think. He needed fresh air. And to walk.

Even though the thought had crossed his mind, hell, it had taken up residence in one of its endless dark corners, nothing had prepared him for this. For the reality of what it all meant. He had a daughter. A child that needed him. No one had needed him for five years. Not since the day he had let his men down.

So, what are you gonna do about, jarhead? That was what he needed to walk and think about.

***

Alicia forced a smile once more as she slipped into Hope's room. "Hey, sweetie, are you ready for bed?"

The huge crocodile tears in her daughter's brown eyes tore her heart out her ass. All she could do was crawl into bed beside Hope and hold her tightly. She understood exactly how the child felt. How many times had she stared at old photographs of the father she barely remembered or listened to Abuelita and tried to create memories of the man? Her daughter did not even have that.

Well, she did not know that she had memories of her father. Alicia was not sure what she had been thinking. About Hope, of course. But what had possessed her to do something as foolish as telling the man the truth? What had she expected? Certainly not that expressionless silence.

But that did not matter at the moment. Hope did. She was all that had mattered for the past seven years, all that would for the rest of her life. And damage control was the order of business now.

"Miss Mandy was right, precious. Times are changing. Families are not just Mommies and Daddies anymore. That was what she wanted all of you to learn."

Her daughter stared up at her, "But I hurt you, Mama. I disappointed you."

When the school had called, Alicia was terrified. Hope was the model pupil, so the only possible reason was illness or an accident. She had rushed from the diner, leaving Alison in charge. But when she arrived to find a red-eyed and perfectly well Hope in the classroom alone with her teacher while the others were out at recess, she had not known what to think.

When Mandy explained about the homework assignment and her daughter's outburst in class, the disappointment she felt was not directed at her child, but at herself. The young teacher had apologized to them both.

With her hand on her burgeoning belly, she explained that this assignment had intended to help the children see that the nature of family was changing. That while most children still had a Mommy and Daddy, often they did not live together. Others had two Mommies or two Daddies. Of course, Hope was not the only child of a single parent in the class. It was just that the others had been able to complete the assignment.

Mandy had tried to point this all out to Hope and the others, but Alicia knew Hope felt things more intensely. She always had. Alicia knew the high price that came with that gift.

She slipped into bed beside her daughter and drew her daughter close. Alicia kissed the top of her sandy-blond head, a legacy from her father.

"We have a wonderful family, sweetie. Not only do we have each other, but there is Alison, Damien, and DeShaun. Even Steve. So, what if our tree does not look like other peoples. It is a tree that we planted, grew, and watered ourselves. Not one that we inherited."

"And Jon, too, Mama. You forgot that he is part of our family now," her daughter brushed the tears away with her hands as she beamed with new understanding.

What would her daughter think if she knew the truth? How much Jon actually belonged on that tree? How much he truly was family? Would Hope be angry with her for keeping the truth from her? How could she possibly explain the ridiculous notion of no-strings-attached to a child? Could she ever forgive her? Or would Alicia lose the one thing that mattered most to her?

What would happen if her revelation had run the man off? How would Hope manage the betrayal? Her daughter missed Steve on those occasions when he lost his battle with the bottle. When he was gone for days at a time, first in drowning, whatever ghosts haunted him, then in shame. Alicia was never sure whether it was hunger or some need to belong that always drove the man back to the diner. But she knew that Hope smiled and hugged the homeless man tighter each time.

She sighed; it was too late to think of those things right now. As Abuelita always said, you cross those bridges when you come to them. "You need to get some sleep now, precious. Have you brushed your teeth?"

The child nodded, "And read your story?"

"Si, Mama, DeShaun listened to me read Madeline."

"And said your prayers?"

Her daughter shook her head, "I waited for you, Mama."

Alicia was about to begin the nightly ritual when a knock at the door interrupted them. She frowned, who could it possibly be this late at night? "I'll be right back, sweetie."