Family: Out of Business

Disconnected

EJ's pov

"Your father's not coming back, Claire. He's not going to be looking for you. He's gone, Claire. You need to accept that. The sooner you do, the better off you'll be."

"That's not true. YOU'RE A LIAR. HE IS COMING BACK! He would never leave me. He promised."

"DAMMIT, FRANCESCA! Just listen to me and do as I say." Roughly grabbing her by the shoulders, I forced her to face me. A lump caught in my throat as I saw her begin to tear-up again. Sighing, I softened my tone and my grip as I sadly said, "I'm sorry, Claire, but your father's not coming back. Not now, not ever." For some reason, I just couldn't tell my pain in the ass niece that he was dead. I won't do that to her right now.

"NO! NO! NO!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face as she came to the realization her father was gone for good.

I crushed her against my chest, holding her tightly as she cried her sad pathetic denials into my shirt, angrily wrinkling the fabric in her tight little fists.

"It's not true," she sniffled, amidst more tears leaking from her eyes. "He is coming back, he is," she repeated softly, trying desperately to convince herself this was all a horrific charade. "You don't know that for sure. You can't. You just can't," she whispered, with a heart wrenching sadness.

"I'm sorry, Claire. I wish things could be different but it is true. Trust me when I say, I never wanted it to be this way." I pressed her cheek firmly against my shoulder as I gently stroked her back, quietly shushing her as I rested my chin on her head.

"No, you're wrong, you have to be," she replied, completely devastated, heartbroken. "I can't lose both my parents, I just can't." Pounding her tiny fists on my rock hard pecs, she sadly lamented, "It's not fair. Why me? Why does God hate me? Why is the universe against me?"

"I'm not wrong, Claire, and God doesn't hate you."

"How can you be so sure my dad's never gonna come look for me? How do you know without a shadow of a doubt he won't, Uncle EJ?"

"Claire," I said sadly, stroking her arm gently in a soothing manner. I'm hoping I don't have to say anything else.

"No, Uncle EJ. Don't talk to me like I'm some pathetic little baby who can't handle things. I'm not some loser charity case. You can be honest with me."

I shook my head, looking down to avoid seeing the hurt look in her eyes that was trying but failing to mask the miniscule amount of hope still flickering behind the sorrow. I can't extinguish that tiny spark. I can't crush her childlike innocence. Telling her what I believe happened to her father, what her grandfather did, would ruin her. It would wreck her completely. I can't be the one to do that to her. I won't be. I lifted my head to look at her and instantly I knew, I would never be able to tell her.

Wiping her tears, she waited for me to speak.

When I remained silent, she asked, "Why aren't you saying anything? Why won't you talk to me, Uncle EJ?"

"I've already said all I have to say regarding this matter, Claire. I don't want you to bring it up again. Capiscimi (Understand me)?" I replied, trying to sound stern.

"Do you have proof, Uncle EJ?" she asked, unwisely ignoring my question regarding her comprehension of my viewpoint on this particular topic of conversation.

"I highly suggest you answer my question, piccola ragazza (little girl), before you find yourself taken over my knee, being taught a refresher course on respecting your elders."

"Alright fine, I'll answer your question, Uncle EJ, but then I expect you to answer mine," she huffed indignantly, putting up quite the front of false bravado.