The Past Recedes

Chapter 2

The picture is how I imagine Nika to look like as a kid

Nika sat in the stuff high-backed chair in the lawyer's office, her feet dangling off the seat. The last few days since her mother's funeral had passed in a sort of unnatural haze, the talk with her grandparents still fresh in her mind. She wondered what sort of person her father was, why her mother had never told her she had a father like other children. Her thoughts began to run quickly and rushed together as she wondered if she could read one of the books on the shelf behind the lawyer's desk.

"You are going to meet your father, he seems like an interesting chap", said her grandfather Pierre Lacroix. The older British man looked dapper in his charcoal-grey pinstriped suit, his salt-and-pepper hair still thick and wavy.

"I hope you'll like father, I wonder why Zoe never told us about him", said her grandmother Maria. She wore a navy blue dress with a white Peter Pan collar and sensible black pumps, her wavy brown hair recently dyed a pleasant chestnut color and her large dark blue eyes looking kindly at her granddaughter.

The door of the office opened and a lawyer in a black suit entered, followed by a younger man in a black suit that was clearly just bought off the rack. Nika looked curiously at the other man and deduced this must be her father. He was slightly shorter than average and thin with long curly dark brown hair past his shoulders and a neatly trimmed goatee and mustache on his face. Nika felt an eerie sensation as she touched one of her own long dark brown curls, the same color as the man's. He looked in her direction and his hazel eyes widened in surprise when he saw her, his lips parted in shock.

Before he could say anything, another lawyer came in and sat at the desk. Nika sat in the uncomfortable chair and listened to the lawyer go over mother's will and the revelation that Mr. John Anthony Frusciante was her father. She was pleasantly surprised that her father was Italian and wondered if he had ever been to Rome and could speak Latin.

When the lawyer finished reading the will, the man looked shocked and amazed as he slumped in the chair. Nika slid off the chair and went over to hm. "Are you my father?", she asked.

"Yes, I am your father. I know this is a strange way of finding out, Nika", he said kindly.

"Mr. Frusciante, I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. I am Pierre Lacroix and this is my wife Maria. If you like, we can drive to Palm Springs and you can arrange for a U-Haul to bring Nika's things to your house", said the older man.

"Thank you, sir. I didn't drive here, though, my friend did. I don't drive", said John apologetically.

"Oh, we have room in the car. And you have a room in your house?", asked Maria.

"Yes, ma'am. I live with two cats and I have a spare bedroom, but I never have guests", said John.

"You have cats?", asked Nika.

"Yeah, Gabriel and Bianca", said John proudly.

"Okay. What should I call you then?", she asked.

"Uh, Dad. I guess", said John with a nervous giggle.

Nika just shrugged. "I want to know, since one is supposed call adults by a title", she replied.

"Yeah, I guess. But you can come with me soon, I need to get your stuff first. My friend Flea has a daughter your age and I used to babysit her", said John.

"What kind of name is that?", she asked.

"Actually, it's a nickname, his ream name is Michael. I don't think anyone except his mom and girlfriend call him Michael", he chuckled.

Nika was quiet as she followed her grandparents and John out of the office. Her father seemed nice but strange since he didn't drive and had a friend called Flea. The group got in Pierre's car with Nika and John in the backset as he turned on the engine and Charlie Parker came over the car stereo. "Sweet, Flea is a huge jazz fan. His daughter is obsessed with the Spice Girls and it drives him nuts", John laughed.

"I don't like the Spice Girls, Mom said they were stupid. I like Artie Shaw and Mozart", said Nika.

John raised an eyebrow, trying to recall who that was. "Uh, is that a jazz guy? I don't listen to jazz", he said apologetically.

"He was a famous clarinet player from the 30's and 40's, he did Begin the Beguine. He was Mom's favorite clarinetist, I play the clarinet", said Nika proudly.

"Okay, big band jazz isn't my thing. And that's cool you play the clarinet, I play guitar", replied John.

"Are you a rock musician? Rock music is for idiots", said Nika.

John frowned, not liking how she seemed to be parroting her mother's words. "Rock music is not for idiots, I play rock music and my band is very successful. The people I know in my band are very smart", he chided.

"Who wrote the Aeneid?", she asked.

"Uh, Homer?", he answered.

"Wrong, it was Virgil. He was Roman, Homer was Greek", she replied triumphantly.

"Nika, that isn't nice", said Maria.

"Where did you go to college? Mom had a doctorate from USC", said Nika.

"I didn't go to college, I dropped out of high school and got my GED", said John.

"Why? If you don't go to college, people will think you're stupid", said Nika.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Frusciante. Our daughter Zoe was too proud of her intelligence and I'm afraid she passed it on to Nika. Nika was homeschooled and Zoe didn't allow her to be around the neighborhood children", said Pierre.

"Because they're stupid, Mom said so", Nika cried out.

"It isn't nice to call people stupid, Nika", warned Maria.

"But they are stupid, they play with Barbies", said Nika defiantly.

John was starting to feel disturbed about how his daughter was talking. She appeared to have gotten her points of view from her mother since her grandparents seemed to be very pleasant people. He wondered if Nika would get along with Clara and hoped they did, and he mused on how one could teach a child social skills as they headed east towards Palm Springs.