TITLE: My father
FANDOM: Jake 2.0
CHARACTERS: Jake Foley, Kyle Duarte, OC
PROMPT: 027. Parents
WORD COUNT: 506
RATING: PG
SUMMARY: He has to know the truth.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: From the
Book Challenge. Quotation from Homer’s Odyssey:
I beseech you, if ever my good father Odysseus in the hard years of war at Troy gave you his word and kept it, remember what he did and tell me all you know.
Table Simon was anxious, shifting from foot to foot at the reception desk, a creased photo bending under his twitching fingers. This was torture.
“You can come through now,” the nurse said politely and he smiled tightly, allowing himself to be led to a small room off the main corridor. A man sat in the corner, legs under a blanket, staring out of the window. Simon watched him for a moment before clearing his throat.
The eyes that fixed on him were awake and alert and whilst the face was softer, it didn’t appear much older, though the greyed hair spoke differently.
“Yes?” he said softly. It was a careful voice, Simon thought, designed to communicate weakness and frailty. He wondered why that was.
“I…I want to talk about my father.”
The man frowned and leaned forward easily; Simon could see his muscles were still toned despite his advanced years.
“Your father?”
Wordlessly, Simon passed over the photo and the man stared at it openly, sighing under his breath.
“Haven’t seen that face for a while,” he muttered to himself, before looking up. “You have his eyes.”
Simon dipped his head and carefully took back the photograph. The man sighed again.
“What do you want to know?”
“Did you love him?”
He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, so accusing - this was all going wrong. However, the man just looked up at the ceiling for a moment before finally meeting his eyes.
“It’s not important how I felt. He…he needed to get out.”
Simon thought of the little house in suburbia and three perfect children. He never spoke about their mother and they didn’t ask. It was all in the past, he said.
“I…found you eventually. It was difficult. But I knew I had to find you.”
The man smiled bitterly. “How did you know?”
Simon shrugged. “The photograph. The letters. Something just…clicked.”
He wasn’t really listening. “Diane thought it was possible and we thought we could be…it was all so hopeless. They were never going to let me go. I wouldn’t…I couldn’t let him go. But, of course, they won. They always win.”
He didn’t understand what the man was saying, but he had more questions that had to be asked.
“Did you know my mother?”
A chuckle then. “Yes, I knew her. She…would have wanted to see you. She would be…proud.”
Simon pretended the man wasn’t crying. It was easier that way.
“Is…is she dead?”
“You could say that,” was the reply and Simon didn’t push it.
“There’s just…one more thing.”
The man looked at him expectantly. Simon swallowed hard. This was going to be interesting…
~
He watched from the doorway, unwilling to intrude but having to know.
The man walked up unaided and very gently laid a hand on his father’s shoulder. Dad turned his head and gaped, before glancing back at Simon.
“You…I thought…”
“Abandoned. Like so much rubbish. I didn’t know…if I’d be welcome.”
“Jake…” his voice breaks and they embrace, shaking in each other’s arms and Simon retreats. Job done.