The Cage (Josephine) 3

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The lights come on followed by descending steps.

"What're you reading?"

I switch off the desk lamp and show him the cover of Middlesex.  "It's been a few years since I've read it."

He sits before the glass adjacent to me.  "I think we should discuss your family."

I stay seated on the mattress with my back supported by the clear wall and my legs stretched.  "I told you, I never knew my father, and my mom died when I was 6."

"You knew he was still alive."

I fold my lips.

"Do you think he abandoned you?"

"I don't know."

"Did you ever think he was gonna come back for you?"

"Doesn't every foster kid?"

He averts his eyes.

"All the girls would tell me I'd never see him and I'd die before him.   I used to think that was absurd but now...  I just wish I knew whether or not he tried to look for me."

More silence.  "Do you hate him?"

"What?"

"Your father, do you hate him?"

I consider it for a second.  "Maybe. Not in a, 'I never want to see you' hate.   It's more like, 'I hate you, go to your room' type of hate, you know?"

There's a pause.  Brendon rubs his face with a hand and mumbles, "I can't do this anymore."

I narrow my brows.  "Do what?"

He squeezes the bridge of his nose.  "This is all wrong.   I can't treat you like this."

"Brendon, what are you saying?"

His hand drops.  "You've never been the type of person one can just tell stuff to.  You've always had to be convinced and I thought this would be the best way.  I mean, you've come around but -- oh god what have I done?"  He conceals his face with both of them.  "I didn't think you'd believe me."

I give him hope with some more truth.  "I probably wouldn't have," I assure him.  "My mom would've done something like that." I  look around the cage.  "Not to this extent but I get where you're coming from."

He sighs.  "Remember what I told you the day we started?  About trust?"

I nod.

"I think you'd understand.  It'll come as a complete shock, but I expect it."

"What?"

"Your dad."

"You knew him?"

"He didn't abandon you.  They divorced a year after you were born, but he sent her money to keep you guys afloat.  After your mom died, he searched everywhere for you.  Everywhere.   Foster, group home, orphanage.  For years he looked, never gave up."

"How do you know all of this?"

He stares at me vacantly, then stands and comes closer.   I copy him and we meet in the middle, the glass partitioning us.  With shaky breaths, he presses his open palm to it.  "I'm sorry, Josephine."

I draw a blank.

"For everything."

Butterflies fill my stomach.  My heartbeat intensifies.  I place my hand on the glass over Brendon's and he looks me in the eye with extreme sympathy.  Though, I don't think I should call him that anymore.  "Dad?"

He folds his mouth which smiles small.  "Hi, Joey."

My lips part.  "I --"

"I feel like I've betrayed you," he says low-toned.

I shake my head.  "You haven't."

He airly scoffs.  "A lot to take in, isn't it?  You still angry with me?"

I sniffle.  "I'm not angry with you, just... why did you and mom separate?"

"Stuff was getting complicated.  We argued incessantly.  I was told of her death two days after, but you were already gone."

I remember that day.  "I'm the one who called the ambulance.  She was in the kitchen and just... fell.  She was showing symptoms days prior, but I didn't know it."

"Must've been some aneurysm.  It's not your fault.  You know that, right?  You were 6."

"When the foster home kicked me out I was scared.  So scared.  I barely survived my first day --"

"Don't worry about that.  I'm here now."

I grin.  "It's an old habit.  I'm slow to change, you know that."

He smiles and nods.  "I do.  There's nothing to be afraid of anymore."

"All this time, you didn't think I was dead?"

"Occasionally.  But there was always a part of me that denied it."

"How'd you know it was me?"

"I know my daughter when I see her."

I'm still in awe.  My dad's here.  Alive.

He takes his hand off the glass and reaches his other down.  There's a beeping noise and he backs away as the door swings open.  I stay in the doorway of the cage, then run into his arms, which embrace me tightly.  He kneels so I'm crying on his shoulder.

"I love you, Joey."  He kisses my temple.  "I love you so much.  And I don't care how old you are, you'll always be my little girl."

"I - I love you too."

He double - pats me on the back.   "Let's go home, Joey."  He lifts me bridally and I bury my face in his chest, sniffling as he carries me up the stairs.

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