Love, Emma

Chapter Fifty-Five:

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

I simply nod, watching the buildings we drive by flit past the passenger side window.

"I need to do this."

And that is why, out of my entire support system, all of who I know would have instantly volunteered to accompany me on my expedition, I asked AJ.

He pulls up next to the building, slowly, both of us gazing up at the towering sky scraper with wide eyes. It's practically a cookie cutter replica of the building next door, and yet it looks entirely different, all at the same time.

We watch people bustle in and out of the front doors, all carrying briefcases or talking on phones, hailing down cabs like they're paid to do it. Everyone in a rush, and with no question or attention paid to the kids idling at the curb.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" AJ smiles at me encouragingly, already knowing my answer, but deciding to ask the question anyways. He respects my need for closure; my need for personal closure. As much anger as my brother holds against our Father, I think he has compensated what the loss of Dad's prescience in our life means. As much resentment as there is for the way he left, I highly doubt that any of us would take him back.

"I think this is something I need to do myself," I smile at him quickly before forcing the door open, and encouraging myself to step out of the vehicle and walk across the sidewalk to the main doors.

No one pays me much mind as I make my way to the stair well; they're too invested in their jobs to care for some teenage girl sneaking around. Too self consumed with the state of their salary, and the work they need to put in to get it, to care for much else around them.

I take the stairs two at a time, carefully following the directions AJ had given me this morning, before we left, on how to get to Dad's office.

His floor is quiet, the cubicles are all low hanging, with just enough space for the workers to roll around in their office chairs from one side to the other. The clicking of keyboards and the hum of printers is all that's audible, and it's so morbidly depressing that I start to walk faster.

Everyone looks the same; button up shirts, pressed slacks and pencil skirts. They all look the same, the wrinkles marring their foreheads are all replicas, given they share the same stress for their nine to five job, in their square cubicle in this incredibly boring office building, where no one seems to care about anyone else, and all anyone thinks of is pressing keys, and printing papers and filing documents. Key, print, file, repeat.

"I'm here to see my Father." His secretary, seated outside his office door in her own 'L' shaped desk seems to be holding back her desire to scowl at me.

Her bun is too tight, and her lips are too pursed, and her nose looks like it's so used to being stuck up in the clouds that it's trying to shrink away from being amidst us mortals. 

"Mr. Dawn is very busy, he can't take visitors right now." She looks back to her computer screen, already clicking away, as if me asking her to do her job and inform my father of a visitor is an inconvenience.

"I want to see my Father," I stand my ground, carefully folding my hands in front of me, trying to make myself seem more mature, older, more intimidating, then I really am.

She sighs, and I watch her roll her eyes as she ducks under the desk to grab a large binder.

"Do you have an appointment?" She's staring at the empty square on the calendar, where there is quite obviously no appointment penciled in, and yet she asks the question anyways.