Truth or Deception

As Always:

Thanks to "Alpineskier" for editing.
Thanks to "Doc" for story ideas.

Bradley's story:

Have you ever had your heart broken into a million pieces? No, let me correct that. Have you ever had your soul ripped from your body and watch it evaporate as the wind blows by? That is me at this very moment. My problem is I brought a knife to a gun fight. My wife, I mean ex-wife, Janine, brought the Death Star. How could she afford an attorney of that caliber is beyond. Did you know I, Bradley Connors, am an abusive husband? That I beat my wife habitually? It is true; I punched my wife once, but only once. What you have done if you saw the love of your life fucking someone else in your bed? I went after the asshole. I swung with all my might and my wife, I mean ex-wife, stepped in the way to protect him. I could not hold up. The judge said it made her sick just to look at me. I lost. House, car, alimony, but most importantly, I lost all rights to my 10 year old daughter, Cecilia. My angel in life. No visitation rights, not even supervised. So now I'm standing at one of my job sites, ready to jump my 6'1" black haired, medium build body into a cement mixer. The only thought preventing me from leaping is that I don't want Cecilia to have a suicide for a father. I take a step back.

I am determined to be the best non-existent father possible. Since Janine sold the house when she got remarried, I don't have a phone number. I only have the address to her house due to my child support obligations. I write Cecilia a letter a week and pour my heart out in each one. I explain how life is for me, ask about hers, and do my best to show through words that I love her. I've never received a response. I spare no expense in gifts for birthday, Christmas, and any other holiday. For Christmas, I always sent her a thousand dollars to spend on whatever she'd like. For birthdays 11-14, I bought her porcelain dolls. Each was hand crafted and very exquisite. At 15, I got her a Bose stereo system. It warms my heart to think my baby girl having that system on full blast at three in the morning, pissing off Janine and her husband. At 16, I bought her a mustang convertible. I picture her cruising down the freeway in the summer heat with the top down. At 17, it was a 3D 60" plasma flat screen television. Whatever she wants to watch, whether it be movies or cartoons, it was going to be in 3D. This year, her 18th, I bought her a top of the line laptop computer and a router. I figure she could use it at college, if she's going. After 8 years, I still write my letters every week without fail.

Cecilia's story:

I hate my father, or should I say Bradley Connors. The first 10 years of my life, he was a phenomenal dad. I was the epitome of daddy's little girl. When I was 10, I found he had an unforgivable secret. He my mom. There is no good reason for an action so deplorable. If that wasn't enough, he has not tried to make contact with me once in eight years. I know he can't visit, but not even a phone call or one letter. There has not been one birthday card or present. He has not even asked for an updated photo to show him how much I've grown into my 5'3" frame with shoulder length blonde hair and blue eyes. I have not received one thing that acknowledges my existence from him. He doesn't care. My mom got remarried within two months of the divorce to a gentleman named Thomas Stark, a partner at a big law firm. I've been calling him dad for five years now. They love each other and me. I do well in school and therefore I am rewarded when my birthday or a holiday come around. I've received from them a wonderful collection of porcelain dolls, a Bose stereo system, a mustang convertible, and a 3D television. This year, it was a state of the art laptop computer and router to use when I go to Ann Arbor in the fall. They really are all I need for parents.

It's been two months since my birthday. With all my school work already on my desktop, I have only used the laptop for surfing the net. Now graduation is on the horizon. It's time to see how top of the line my laptop really is. After a half hour, it hasn't disappointed. With so many applications there are so many possibilities. College is going to be a breeze. Huh, that's odd? I have a Word document entitled "To My Daughter on her 18th Birthday". I smiled. What has mom and dad done now? I clicked it.

-----My sweet Cecilia Anne:

Now that you are on the threshold of womanhood, I would like to take this opportunity to congratulate you on the start of a new chapter in life. I close my eyes and picture how beautiful of a woman you have become and I imagine you are mature beyond your years. I hope this finds you going to college, but if not, please know I will love, support, and be proud of you no matter what your future endeavors may be. The last eight years, I'm certain, have not been easy. I know the teenage years can be tough to navigate, but I am confident your mother and her husband guided you through the rough waters with precision. I hope, in some way, my weekly letters have helped mold and shape you as well, or, at the very least, show my undying love for a daughter I have not seen in so very long. Now that you are 18, it is your choice whether you wish to see or contact me. My phone number is 734-555-7925. I love and miss you dearly. I pray for a day to see you again.

With all my love, your father, Bradley Connors

P.S. Your graduation gift will be arriving soon. I hope you can be free the last week of June. Enjoy! -----

A flood of emotions overtook me. I began to cry. Bradley Connors, my real father, after all these years, wants to see me. Did mom let him write this in here? Or worse, is this laptop really from him and she lied to me? He says he wrote weekly letters. Did he really? Were they lost in the mail or hidden from me? He has a 734 area code. He still lives in the old area we used to live, about 30 minutes away. Mom and dad are going on a cruise the last week of June. Was that for me as my graduation gift or simply a coincidence? I do not know any of the answers to these questions and I am very scared to find them out.

"Mom, have you talked to dad recently?"

"Yes, he called and said he'd be about a half hour late for dinner. Why?"

"No, I mean Bradley Connors."

"No, I haven't. We don't need him. We have Thomas now."

She didn't let him type the letter. Time to feign innocence. "I know mom and I am grateful. Thomas is really nice. I guess I was just thinking that after all these years, he would have tried to contact me somehow."

"Don't take it personally Cecilia. Brad was always selfish. I gave him the address and phone number where we are. If he wanted to, he could've contacted you. If it was me, I would do anything to get in touch with you. I love you that much. Please just forget about him. Thomas loves you and we are a family.

"Okay mom." Time to pry a little more. "Oh, I also wanted to ask you something else."

"What is it honey?"

"I've been playing around on my new laptop today, you know, trying to get used to all the applications before college, and it's great, but one of the apps requires a certain installation disk that should've came with it. So I was wondering where you got the laptop. I can go there to see if they can give me a replacement."

"We got it at Electronics World. I'll take the laptop and go with Thomas to tomorrow and see about exchanging it, okay?"

"No, that's not necessary. I already downloaded a bunch of stuff and the app isn't that important. I'd only want it if I could do it myself. Exchanging it would be too much of a hassle for me. No worries mom. Thanks." I turned and went back to my bedroom. No chance that laptop came from Electronics World. It was custom made from Dell. Hell, it said that on the box. That's why I loved it so much. Did it really come from Bradley? I don't have much time before dinner, but I had to know how much of my life is a lie. I nervously dialed the number. 7-3-4-5-5-5-7-9-2-5. My heart rate increased and my breathe quickened as the phone rang.

It had been two months since Cecilia's birthday. Still no word. It breaks my heart to know that after all this time, she may hate me. Better hate me than have her feel nothing for me I keep telling myself. I still write my letters. Today was an especially frustrating day at the office. A foreman called in sick, so I had to leave the office and go to the Franklin site to oversee construction. The plumbers were late and my electrician never arrived. What a waste of money and resources. On top of that, I've been on my cell all day because of a worker at another site injured himself. Damn, my phone is ringing again.

"Listen Joshua, I already told you that I submitted the workers compensation claim and they will call you when it is finalized. " I stated firmly.

"Um, hello." I wondered if I had the wrong number.

It was a female voice. "Oh hello. Sorry, I thought you were an employee of mine. This is Connor Construction, how can I assist you?" I immediately went into my polite customer service voice.

"That's alright. Um, is this Bradley Connors?" I wondered what I should say if he says yes.

"Yes it is. Which job site will we be talking about? I would like to get the specs out so I can explain in detail your concerns?" suddenly in the background I hear a woman's voice say "time for dinner" and the young lady I'm n the phone with respond "okay, be right there." Could it be? I ask hopefully. "Cecilia?"

"Uh." I didn't know what to say. I thought about hanging up.

"Cecilia, please. Is it really you?" I became desperate.

"Yes. It's me, dad." I just called another man dad after five years of viewing Thomas as such. Did I betray mom?

"Thank you for calling. I have so much to tell you and so much I want to hear. Where to start? First, how are you doing? You sound so grown up." Oh happy day! It's my baby girl!

"I'm doing good. Listen, I can't really talk now, but I was wondering if we could meet sometime?" Did I just say meet? I'm not sure I really want to go that far.

"I would enjoy that very much. When? Where? Ladies choice." She had to hear the excitement in my voice.

"Saturday at two. Pizza Shack in Dearborn. Do you know where it is located?" Why did I just say that?

"I'll be there."

"Okay, see you then. I got to go."

"Cecilia, wait." I hoped to catch her before she hung up.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for calling me. I love you and miss you terribly." My voice turned into a whimper as I fought back the tears. I am so happy.

"I'll see you there. Bye." I rushed to get off the phone.

The days leading to Saturday crawled by, if not stand still all together. I am eager with anticipation at the thought of seeing my daughter again. My dream of the past eight years is finally going to come true. I am so full of excitement, I arrive at the restaurant an hour early. When asked how many people in my party, I replied two, and then proceeded to tell the waitress the entire story. She was so nice to listen to me even though I knew she didn't care. I sat at a table with a window. I wanted to see if I could view her coming. I cannot wait.

The days leading to Saturday shot by in a blur. I am extremely nervous at the thought of meeting Bradley. I told myself I should cancel or not show up a million times. If he was willing to abuse mom, I was concerned he might turn on me. I enlisted back-up. My best friend, Sasha, agreed to come with me. Between the public place and my friend, I hoped I was safe. I told my mom we were going to the mall so she wouldn't worry if we were gone too long. Sasha and I arrived at the restaurant with fifteen minutes to spare. My hands were glued to the steering wheel. I didn't want to let go. After some comforting words, Sasha convinced me it was time. Once inside, I began looking around and Sasha was pointing out possible candidates.

"Are you Cecilia?" The waitress inquired.

"Yes I am."

"The gentleman you are meeting is waiting already. Follow me."

My hands became clammy and my body tensed up at the thought of seeing the man, or should I say animal who abused my mother. As much as I wanted to know the truth, the vision of my mother with a black eye and fractured cheek bone was still etched in my memory. My stomach became queasy. This was a mistake.

I see the waitress walking toward my table with two girls in tow. One was a slender brunette with curly hair and a tan, but that was not my daughter. Not unless she dyed her hair. No, my daughter was the one a little further back with her head down rubbing her hands nervously together. I couldn't wait. I arose from my seat and, with almost a gallop, ran towards her, captured her in my grasp, spun her around, and held her tightly. I cried. I didn't care. I felt her struggle, but I couldn't let go.

I looked up and saw a man barreling toward me. Sasha was shielded as the waitress moved out of his way. I must've had a deer in the headlights look as I had a zero percent chance of getting out of his way, let alone just raising my arms to defend myself. He was on me instantaneously. I clenched my eyes shut and began to flail my arms and legs as he spun me around. I suddenly realized he wasn't hurting me. I stopped struggling and I was finally returned to my feet.

"I've missed you so much Cecilia. Please, sit down." As she took our order, I noticed even the waitress cried a little. After the waitress left and I was introduced to Sasha, an awkward silence ensued. I had the biggest smile on my face. I decided I should break the ice.

"Cecilia, before we start, I just want to say I love you and will always love you. I know it had to be hard to only have a relationship with me through weekly letters. You have your reasons for not writing back and whatever they are, I understand. You don't even have to tell me. Whatever your emotions, whether you love me or hate me, I understand. Just know that right now, this very moment, is the happiest I have been in eight years. So tell me, how are you?"

I have a plethora of questions to ask, one being the letters, but I didn't know quite where to begin, so I started with the obvious. "How did you know I was your daughter and that Sasha wasn't?"

I can tell she was hesitant, as if a hundred thoughts clouded her mind versus my one blissful thought of being with her again. "There were several indicators, really. You appeared to be nervous, there was your hair color, and, of course, how many people drive a pink mustang convertible?"

"How do you know what kind of car I drive?" Like the computer, I feared I already knew the answer.

"It was only two years ago when I bought it for you. I could never forget the hassle the salesman gave me for wanting to get a mustang in pink." I chuckled at the memory."When he thought I couldn't hear him, he mumbled it was sacrilegious." As I finished, I noticed Cecilia's facial expression. It was as if my words were piercing her heart. A painful realization hit me. "Cecilia, did you receive any of the gifts from me, actually from me or were you told they were from your mom?"

I didn't just cry at his question, I sobbed. I held my lowered head in my palms. "I received nothing from you."

She said nothing. I am afraid to ask my next question. "How about my letters?" I held my breath.

I shook my head no and my body slumped onto the table. I felt Sasha's hand on my shoulder.

I was stunned. I didn't think Janine was that heartless. I pushed my hatred for my ex out of my mind. My baby girl was in pain. I got up, knelt next to her, and put my hand on her back. I felt I was transported back to the day when she scrapped her knee when I was trying to teach her how to ride a bike. I waited for her to calm down. "Cecilia, let's not dwell on it. Let's treat this as a new beginning. I'm just really excited to get to know what type of person you've become."

As I settled down, I realized it didn't bother me he was touching my back. It actually reminded me of when I would have nightmares. He was always the one to come in my room. I would lay on my stomach and he would rub my back till I was asleep. I felt safe. That feeling was sweeping over me now. I slowly sat up, rubbed the tears from my face, and turned toward him. "I would really like that.

We talked for hours. Long enough for Cecilia's friend, Sasha, to have her head leaning against the wall, sleeping. I learned so much about my daughter. She grew into the woman I knew she would. I was happy she was going to go to college, and ecstatic to find out she was going to Ann Arbor. Close enough for me to be in her life for four more years. We were able to laugh and truly enjoy each others company. It was now five in the evening and she said she had to go, but she had one more question for me. Something she waited to ask because she didn't know how.

We talked for hours. I felt horrible for Sasha, who fell asleep an hour and a half ago. I learned so much about my dad. He runs his own construction business and was surprised he hasn't tried to date anyone since mom. He was successful, smart, and good looking. He said he concentrated on only two things in eight years; work and me. I wish I had gotten those letters. I feel fortunate he put that letter in the laptop and I feel silly for being apprehensive about meeting him. It was now five in the evening and if I didn't leave soon, mom was going to be upset. I woke up Sasha to prepare to go. I just needed to know one more thing. I delayed this question, and even debated about bringing it up, but I know I would regret not asking.

"Dad, I have to ask, why did you beat mom and are you still like that?" I had to now. Through my youth and today as well, he never exhibited any violent behavior. I wasn't even spanked as a child.

"Cecilia, I'm not sure I want to answer this. I will, however, reluctantly. Yes, I hit your mother. It happened only once and it was unintentional."

"Once is enough, and how do you unintentionally hit someone?" I was getting upset and being defensive. After being reacquainted with my dad, I didn't want to believe it.

"Cecilia, I understand your anger, but please allowed me to explain. That truth wasn't even what I was hesitant to tell you. It's the reason I did what I did I wanted to shield you from. If you still want to know, I'll tell you." I don't know why I am protecting Janine. Maybe it's because I want Cecilia to have one positive parental role model, but I don't want to threaten what we just built in the past five hours.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "I'll listen, but no promises on my reaction." I can't imagine I can accept any reason.

"I remember it like it was yesterday. I had called Janine to let her know I'd be two hours late due to a meeting with a client. The client cancelled so I decided to surprise her. I bought dinner and came home. There was another car in the driveway, a black camaro. I walked in and set the food down in the kitchen. As I looked around for Janine, I heard noises from upstairs. As I approached the bedroom, the noises became clear. Grunts and moans hung in the air. I tuned and saw Janine bent over with a guy behind her. He had dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and soon my fist in his face. They saw me immediately and scrambled to get their clothes. I charged toward him and swung with all my anger. Your mom jumped in the way to protect him. She went down hard and the asshole, excuse my language, got away as I went to see if your mother was alright. I didn't want to tell you she cheated on me and have you have an abusive father, at least according to the courts." I couldn't read my daughters reaction. She just sat there with her hands folded, focusing on my every word. A few moments passed and she was still silent. I now realize her next words may affect my future relationship with her. I now became nervous with each passing second.