Family: Out of Business

Pained

Claire's pov

"Do you need to be reminded of the proper tone in which to speak to me, young lady?"

Realizing I was dangerously close to another ass-whipping, I cut my losses, replying, "No sir."

"That was your one and only warning, mia figlia (my daughter)," he said, pointing his finger ominously in my face.

"She's the one you should be mad at, Dad, not me. She kept us apart for the first ten years of my life. Doesn't that bother you? Doesn't that make you mad?"

"Of course it upsets me, honey, but getting angry about something that I had no control over is pointless."

"You're not pissed off that you didn't get to be there when I was born, or hear my first word, or see me take my first steps? You never got to hold my hand and tell me everything would be alright on my first day of kindergarten. You're not upset that my mom's boyfriend of the month taught me how to tie my shoes and ride a bike? It really doesn't bother you to know whatever random guy she was dating at the time would tuck me in at night and read me a bedtime story? Or do you just not care cuz you didn't want me anyway?"

My father sighed heavily as he took hold of my hands, securely encasing them within his own.

"Principessa (Princess), don't you ever think for even one second that I didn't want you. I thank God on my knees every night for bringing you into my life. Since the moment I laid eyes on you, I live and breathe only for you." Releasing his hold on me, my father brushed the back of his right hand gently across my cheek as he knelt down in front of me.

Seeing the pained look on his face, my tears continued to fall. I didn't mean to hurt him. I'm not mad at him, I'm just angry and frustrated with what my mom did to me, to us. I had a dad, I always had a dad, I just didn't know it. He wasn't some anonymous loser who just wanted to make a buck by squirting his jizz in a cup, like I was always led to believe. He was married to my mom and they were in love.

I was always so embarrassed growing up when kids would ask me about my dad and I would have to explain I didn't really have one, that my mom used an anonymous sperm donor to get pregnant, so we didn't know who my father was. Now eleven years later, I find out I didn't have to be ashamed and humiliated when they asked me that because I have a dad, a real dad and he's awesome. Although I'm not too thrilled with him right now for wailing on my ass, but that's a small price to pay for vindication from my status of being an orphaned bastard.

"But how can you not be mad at her, Dad? I'm so angry for what she did."

"I try not to dwell on the bad and instead focus on the good, bambina (baby girl). Your mother had her reasons, albeit somewhat selfish and misguided, and I honestly think she handled the situation the way she did because she had your best interests at heart. She would never intentionally hurt you, Claire. She loved you. Don't you ever question that. Ok? We have each other now and you have an aunt and uncle who love you very much and would go to the ends of the earth for you." My dad gripped my chin firmly as he smiled and said, "Plus you got to spend some time getting to know your grandfather before he passed and that most definitely should have given you some insight into why our family is so crazy." Dad laughed, patting my cheek as he saw me smile.

"Dad, why didn't you and Aunt Lexie tell me the truth?"

"Uh, um, well," my dad nervously sputtered, as he rubbed the back of his neck. Uncle EJ does that too when he's stressed or frustrated. "Do you want to hear the story of how I proposed again?"

"Dadddd," I said, frowning. "I want you to answer my question. I'm not a little kid anymore, you don't have to hide stuff from me."

"Yours is a question with many possible answers," my dad replied cryptically.

"Then you shouldn't have any trouble listing a few," I sassed, with a fair amount of attitude.

My father gave me his warning look where he raises one eyebrow and wrinkles his forehead while pressing his lips together in a tight scowl.

"Moderate your tone, young lady."

"Sorry."

"I can't speak for your aunt, mia figlia (my daughter), but I know I didn't want you to think badly of your mother and I didn't want your memories of her to be soured. We can't turn back time to get those years back. I know she loved you and I want you to focus on that."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, Dad. I'm tired and my butt hurts and I'm really angry and confused. I have a feeling if we keep talking about my mom, I'm gonna end up in even more trouble, and I just don't wanna deal with it right now."

"Claire, please don't shut me out and close yourself off from expressing yourself and dealing with these feelings. It's not healthy, Sweetpea." My dad tried to grab my hands to hold but I ripped them away from him as I stood up quickly.

"No, don't! Please just leave me alone. I said I don't want to talk about this anymore and I meant it!" I shouted, before running up to my room and slamming the door. "DAMMIT!" I cursed myself. What did I do that for? Dad's gonna come up here and whip my butt again now for sure. "UGGHH!" I screamed into my pillow, as I collapsed face first on my bed.

Surrendering myself to a full-on toddler style temper tantrum, I continued to vent my frustrations through muffled screams into my pillow as I pounded my fists on my bed and kicked my feet wildly. I'm angry and annoyed at everyone and everything right now. I feel like I can't trust anyone, especially my own family. How could my own parents lie to me like that? My mom lied to me from day one and she kept lying to me until she died. My dad would've too if I didn't catch his little slip-up. My grandfather lied to me, my aunt lied to me, even uncle EJ lied to me. They all must think I'm really stupid. I hate them all.

"Aaaagh!" I practically jumped a foot off the bed when I felt a hand on my back. Turning over, I saw my uncle grinning down at me, delighting in scaring the shit out of me, no doubt. Trying to calm my rapidly beating heart, I coarsely choked out my annoyance at his intrusion on my little hissy fit. "Geez, you scared the Hell outta me, Uncle EJ. Ever hear of knocking?"

"I did knock, spaz. You just didn't hear me over," he waved his hand in a circle, "whatever this was."

As usual, he smirked smugly at my expense.

"What do you want, Uncle EJ? I'm not in the mood right now," I groaned, as I made a big production of sitting up on my bed. My ass is still throbbing from my dad's "correction" and I'm in a really pissy mood.

"You should be thanking me right now, monella (brat), not mouthing off," he replied dryly.

"Oh, and why's that?" I asked, not particularly interested in his response, but still a tad curious.

"Your father was on his way up here to belt your ass for slamming your door, when I stopped him."

"And why would you do that?" A wave of fear washed over me as I pictured my extremely angry father spanking me with his belt while berating me for slamming my door. I can't imagine how many times my grandfather must have spanked him to drive that lesson home. I don't know how my dad can resist the impulse when he's angry. It's just like natural instinct to me and it's so satisfying to hear the loud bang when the door whips closed.

Unbuckling his belt, my uncle momentarily stopped my heart as he sternly replied, "Because I wanted to do the honors myself."

I scrambled backwards on my bed, pressing my shoulders flush against the headboard.

"NO, UNCLE EJ, DON'T!" I cried.

"Don't make this any harder on yourself, piccola ragazza (little girl)," he ordered, advancing on me.

"NO! PLEASE!" I begged, now in tears. "I'm sorry I slammed my door." I don't think I can take another spanking right now and certainly not one with my uncle's stiff leather belt.

"Francesca!" he barked, taking a step closer.

"I didn't mean to. It was an accident, I swear," I pleaded, crossing my fingers behind my back. It was no accident.