True Identities - (ON HOLD)

Chapter 32: The Dinner

Chapter 32:

I sit at the dinner table quietly eating some lasagna that my mom made.

It was the first time in months that my mom, Meredith, and I were sitting together for dinner.

And it was the first time in forever my mom actually prepared a real dinner. She was usually too busy with her job.

"This is nice, isn't it?" she asks us.

I nod my head.

It has been so long eating together that I even forgot what to talk about over dinner. Was it always this quiet and awkward?

"What's the special occasion, mom?" Meredith asks, her mouth full of lasagna.

"No special occasion, I promise to spend more time at home than at work,"

"Don't you have that really big case?" I ask. I remember the details my mom told me about the case... how the guy faked his identity.

"We already sentenced him a punishment, the trial just ended three days ago" she explains.

My heart races at the word 'punishment'. I needed to know what kind of punishment.

"What was the punishment ?" I hesitate to ask.

"A couple of years in jail" she tells me.

I suddenly lost my appetite.

"W-what did he do exactly?" my voice started to shake.

"Hope, not over dinner okay? Let's talk about something else to lighten the mood" she tells me.

"Are we going to have a funeral for dad?" The question blurts out of my mouth.

My mom gives me a look, definitely not the kind of "mood lightening" question.

She sighs. "Maybe" she says.

Was 'maybe' just parent code for 'No'? I was tired of putting this discussion off, I wanted to talk about it right here right now. Mo more 'we'll talk about it later"

"Is that a yes or a no?" My voice was firm.

"Not now, okay? We'll decide later" she says.

I drop my fork down on the plate. "This shouldn't even be a whole process of thinking, this is dad! My father." I look at Meredith. "Our father"

"The answer should be yes, no second thoughts" I say. Dinner got real dramatic real fast, but I didn't care.

I felt my stomach warming up, my temper out of my control. What did my mother have against my father that made her hate him so much? No one seemed to give a damn, and it killed me.

My dead father, for my whole entire 16 years of living, he'd only been in my life recently for not more than a week since he...

And why was that? It was because of my mother.

Memories of my father at the hospital flashed back, I felt the same pang in my stomach I felt when I watched him take his last breath. It was only a matter of seconds before I start bawling my eyes again.

"I want to know why you kept dad away from me." I say, trying to hold back my tears. "You're going to tell me right now, from the top."

My mom sighs. "Honey, you don't want to know"

"Just tell me"

My mom sighs before beginning.

"He was too invested in his life, Hope. He spent more time working on his finance than the family. Eventually he was successful, he got the dream house, the dream job... He never cared about us."

My heart sank to my stomach. My ears were crying in pain to hear those words. That was not how Dad was. 

"I don't believe it" my voice cracks. 

"It's true, Hope" my mom says.

I can't believe it. I won't believe it. I want to remember my father from the way I saw him. As a role model... a selfless and loving father. I refused to let my mother's words change that. 

"I want a funeral for him," I break the silence. I look up at my mom; there was no way she was going to win arguing over this.

She nods her head. "When do you want it to be, Hope?"

I think for a moment.

I want it to be soon, I actually just wanted it to be tomorrow but I know that wasn't possible. 

"This weekend" I say. The weekend was only a few days away. 

I see my mother's expression.

"I'll take care of the guests, I don't want it too big" I say. 

My mom nods. "Where do you want it?"

"In Philadelphia"