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“There, you be the prince and I be the queen,” she begins.
“Shouldn’t you be a princess if I’m a prince?”
“No. Daddy always says that I’m a queen.”
My smile grows wider.
“Who’s this guy?” I point to the purple teddy bear scooped up in her arms.
“That’s Wally. He’s my best friend.” She holds him tigh
t against her chest. “He’s always there to cheer me up when I’m sad.”
I can’t help but be amazed by this sweetheart of a little girl and how obliviously happy she is. She has no idea that her mother is human garbage. That her father almost died. She sees the good in people, even those who don’t have one good bone in their bodies. Even those who don’t deserve it.
She’s just like her.
She’s just like Des.
“What’s wrong?” She pulls on my sleeve.
“Nothing. What makes you think something’s wrong?” I shove the painful memories into the deepest corner of my mind. She drops the Barbie and gazes at me with confused and intrigued eyes.
“You look sad.”
“I’m okay. I promise,” I lie.
She frowns.
“It’s just… you remind me of someone,” I reluctantly admit.
THEN
“Daddy, Daddy,” the five-year-old called when she heard the door that was always closed open in the distance. The office door was locked most of the times. The rule had remained the same ever since the young girl had been old enough to understand what a rule was. As long as the door was closed, she couldn’t bother her father. Maybe if he ever opened it, she could ask, but even then, nothing was certain. Mr. Adams spent almost twenty-four hours a day into his office, leaving his daughter Desiree to play alone with the brand-new toys he and his wife kept bombarding the child with.
The blue-eyed girl ran from the living room to her father’s office, her tiny feet knocking against the hardwood floor. Her older brother came running in after her. He’d been babysitting again. His parents hadn’t even left for their stupid event yet, still he’d been put on Desiree duty as soon as he’d come home from school.
“Des.” Haze smiled sadly as he watched his sister slip on the perfectly waxed floor. She was running so fast she struggled to stop when she made it to the office threshold. He knew exactly what answer his sister was going to get. She always got the same one. Her father was sitting at his desk, going through a few of the last files of the day. Running a business wasn’t easy. That was his excuse, always had been.
“Daddy, look!” Desiree held a cookie she’d just made with her brother as high as her arm allowed her to. She pushed to the tips of her toes, aside her father’s desk.
“Later, honey, I’m busy,” he said, his eyes locked onto his computer screen. Seconds later, his daughter noticed the maid sweeping in the corner of room. She was the reason the office door was open. She’d be out of there as soon as she was done cleaning. Her father wasn’t available.
“But Daddy… Haze and I made cookies,” Desiree said.
Her father huffed, “Why don’t you go play with your toys?”
“I don’t want to. I want to play in the backyard. You promised, Daddy. Remember?”
It was true. He had promised. He’d promised when he wasn’t listening and desperately needed her to stop asking. Leaning against the doorway, Haze stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Rage and disapproval twisted his face. He remembered a time when Richard played with them. Back when he only had two clinics to manage. Unfortunately for Desiree, Adams Inc. decided to invest further into real estate three months after she was born, and from that moment on, he’d become the self-centered piece of shit Haze was looking at now. His father made him so angry sometimes he wondered if he could move out on his own at fourteen.
“I’ll go with you tomorrow.”
His words banished every single hope and dream in the little girl’s eyes to a foreign land. She glanced down at the now crumbling cookie in her palm. The maid walked out and motioned for the kid to follow, which she did, dragging her feet. The door closed, and just like that, her daddy was gone again.
“Des, come here.” Haze bent to her level. “I’ll play in the backyard with you.”
It usually cheered her up. She usually smiled, accepted that her dad couldn’t make it, and strolled straight to the swings outside. She loved her brother more than anything, looked up to him. She was usually glad he was there to play with her, but not this time. She didn’t even spare a smile. She walked over to the kitchen and sat around the table in silence. Scattered all over the counters were cooking ingredients along with multiple trays of untouched cookies.
