Chapter II

I was lost for words to comfort Laura out of both remorse and confusion.

Why she misses her Dad is understandable, but for her to miss only her dad is quite baffling. After all, it is her mother who died. It is her whom she has no chance of meeting again at all.

“Hmm? But why just dad? Don’t you miss Mom, too?” curious, I cannot help myself but ask. I moved Laura’s face to wipe away the tears and sweat that has flooded her visage.

"I do …" she says while wiping the remaining tears from her small, endearing eyes with her left hand. “But Mommy always says that I need to be strong every time Daddy feels weak.”

There you go, Luke. Your wife still taking care of you beyond her grave, and your daughter trying to be strong despite her young self because you cannot.

So, in the end, she misses them both. Understandably so.

I can assure you that my parents have done everything of their capacity to alleviate the pain from the child but only so much can be done if the cause of the grievance is one that can never be sufficed. They can never fill that empty space her parents left, and neither can I.

I wonder, if they had known that this is the consequence of loving their child as much as they did, and should they have known that that tragedy would happen, would Mary and Luke have done everything that they have done for Laura?

It is a pointless thing to ask, I know. Rather, if Mary knew that the time she had with her daughter is limited, she probably would have loved her more. More than enough to last a lifetime.

After some time, Laura’s tears have halted but she has yet to calm down inside. Regardless, she kept on wiping her now dry face which has turned reddish possibly from irritation.

Whilst, I carried her with both my arms from the feet of the bed where we sat and laid her comfortably.

"Mommy and Daddy will always be with you, so don't worry," I said while giving her a smile in an attempt to lighten up her mood. I got a flashing nod in response, something that does not indicate agreeance, but hope.

Is it weird that the way I said it, it is as if her father is dead?

“Fancy drinking some milk to help you sleep?” I asked after realizing that the proper time for children her age to go to sleep has significantly passed.

Laura shook her head slightly.

“Oh, I know. Would you like to hear some stories about them?” I do not know whether this is a good idea or not, but for someone like me, this is the best that can be offered.

The child then nodded with slightly more energy than the former, expressing her desire to know more about her parents.

I tried to rack my cranial hard drive which has barely been functioning ever since I finished high school to come up with some precious memories I have of Mary and Luke that I can tell Laura.

"Your Mom …" a slight pause was observed from my speech, not from the fact that recall and remembering aren't my best suit, but because I have accumulated numerous stories inside my mind that I do not know where to start.

“Let’s see … Me and your mom have been best friends ever since high school.” I uttered, “She is one of the kindest – if not the kindest girl that I have met. She is quiet, smart, and cold – but not as cold as your Dad, and she rarely talks to others, unless she is really comfortable with a person. That's what I liked about her and that is why even after finishing college, we remained very close friends, so much that other people actually thought of us as sisters." I added, using the best of my abilities to describe Mary to her daughter, but in reality, she is way more than that.

She is the most human human being that you can find on the planet if you can forget the fact that she is incredibly smart and crazy with numbers. I said she is cold, but that is not entirely the case. She is sweet. incredibly sweet to the people she really cares about. This is something I can attest to as a first-hand witness of this character of her. She has been like that to Luke and Laura, and perhaps, should she have experienced having parents, they too would have felt that care.

She lost both her parents as an infant and grew up in an orphanage affiliated with a well-known, prestigious school at the center of the city. Every day of her life was spent more with books than with people, not because she hates being with them, but because they hate being with her, a "smart" girl.

Having suffered so much as a child, she grew up the kind and loving lady that she is.

“… but how about Daddy?” Laura grew impatient of the extended pause I had as I pondered about Mary.

“Well, I cannot say much about your Dad, because he was always so distant but …” I dove way too deep into my memories to find the exact words that I can tell the young girl concerning her dad without including curses, spite, and other things that should not be heard by a minor.

“… but here’s a fun fact; I was the first one to meet your Dad and not your Mom. So, I met both your Mom and Dad first before they meet each other!” I felt a bit of shame as this is the only thing I can tell her about her beloved father, whom she is very interested in. I am very sorry to disappoint you, dear.

“You’re really f-funny, Aunt Rosie.” Laura said as she let out a chuckle.

There goes that patented Belkacem stammer. Good thing it is genetic and not contagious, because if the latter is the case, then Mary would have long been infected.

Either way, it seems like Laura’s mood has gotten better as her face cleared up, stopped rubbing her eyes, allowing her bright blue eyes to be illuminated by the pale moonlight passing through the windows.

It’s beautiful. Even more than his father’s.

Also, another thing to note is that she told me I’m funny, and that is an achievement of mine for she is the first one to do so. Although I am at a loss of her basis for telling it.

“Hm? Why is that? I just told you what I know about your father, Didn’t I?” I asked while tickling her sides, prompting an intensified chuckling from the little girl.

“I-it’s because you didn’t tell anything about my Daddy, but yourself.” Responded Laura, strugglingly as I have yet to stop tickling her.

Well, she has a point, but I really do not want to talk about him right now. I still do not know how to deal with him, to be honest, so my mind is trying its best to avoid it.

“Hm, then how about this …” I stopped tickling her for her chuckles have grown to a point that it can be mistaken for crying already, and also, I don’t want to wake my parents up.

“… I will just tell you the story of how your Mom and Dad met. Would that be fine?”

Laura’s eyes shone bright as my words piqued her very interest.

“Hm!” she sounded excitedly in agreeance, with a semi-violent nod as she sat up.

She was so much intrigued by how the love between her parents has started budding, but I am much too afraid that I may not satisfy her curiosity because story-telling is also one of my waterloos.

“Let’s see …”

Laura stared at me intently, causing a bit of panic and urgency to my very timid brain.

“It was the time when I also met your father for the first time, one rainy afternoon after the class ended. I was waiting for your Mom on a wooden shed when I saw your father weirdly flying paper airplanes of different varieties, sending them into the rain.” I started.

"Oh, I know what he's doing. He's trying to find out what paper plane model would fly the best in the rain! I also did it once at home!" spoke Laura.

For so many years, never have those two failed in making me feel dumb and it seems like Mary gave birth to her heiress. Seriously, I am now confused of whether my mental capacity is normal and they are just mind freaks, or if everyone else is aware of that paper plane test and I’m just a complete idiot for having no idea of it at all for this long.

Either way, it seems that she is so immersed in the story, so it’s a good thing.

I ignored Laura's remarks and passed them off with a smile. I went on with my story.

“He kept on his planes and soon after, your Mom came out running from your Dad’s side of the shed. One of the planes hit her head accidentally and your Dad apologized even though he does not seem sorry about what happened.”

Laura slowly laid on her side facing me and putting her hand atop my stomach to prepare for sleeping. She shut her elegant eyes as I stroked her deep black hair. It amazes me how a child's energy goes from a hundred to zero when they are hit with sleepiness.

“Keep going, Aunt …” she said hazily, obviously dozing off.

“Your Mom said ‘no, it’s fine’ and they met in the eye. She tilted her head a bit as if pondering about something while her eyes are locked in on his. They stared at each other for a few moments, but at that time, it doesn’t seem like the romantic or cheesy one, and certainly not a mad stare down. It’s just them looking at each other as curious strangers.”

Definitely not romantic. At that time, them staring at each other actually felt more like two extraterrestrials meeting each other on another planet, or on a localized interpretation, that feeling when you met someone from your place somewhere the both of you should not be in.

Later on, I had realized that them looking at each other's eyes are two soulmates finding each other amid seven billion people, like telling each other, 'hey, I found you'.

“When I asked your Mom why he accepted his apology, she told me that he was just the same as her; someone who is often misunderstood because he cannot express herself completely, and with that, she can empathize with him.”

Just like two people coming from the same stardust, they understood each other without words. That is why never have I doubted that they are perfect for each other. And I'm not even talking about how their preferences, actions, and hobbies, or how their inexplicable lust for numbers perfectly complement; they are simply made to live with and for each other.

Because of this, I cannot really blame Luke for how he is right now. Yes, I do want him to be better, but I also understand that the state that he is in right now is not caused by something trivial.

I want to help him change. I want to help him get back on his feet and become a proper father to Laura. I want to see the two of them smile together again.

As I finished the story, Laura was flat asleep. I then stood up as I was reminded of the two glasses of milk that should turn bad in the morning if I do not take care of it.

I drank a full glass and decided to put the other on the fridge for tomorrow.

As I was opening the door, my phone rang ragingly, prompting me to almost jump out of surprise. Afraid that the noise may wake little Laura up, I hastily put the glasses down and grabbed the phone to realize that it was Luke who is calling.

Luke never – ever called me.

Not a word was allowed to escape my lips as Luke’s voice bombarded my ears immediately as I answered the phone.

“I did it! I made it!”

Oh, God. Please tell me he didn’t revive Mary.