A Lovely Story

I can't imagine what she’s thinking or even feeling right now. It’s as much of news to me as it is to her. Does she hate me?

Does she hate him? Does she hate us? I desperately want to ask her all of these questions, but right now all I can do is feel sorry for her.

She had NO idea. I mean, I didn’t either but I’ve had my suspicions throughout the years.

“What year were you born?”

She asks without even looking up to stare the subject of her curiosity dead in the eyes.

“1996.” I whispered while staring right at her.

Her eyes darted up to abruptly meet mines as if my answer was her key to death’s door. Then she slumped down further

into the hospital chair, almost becoming one with its cushion.

She looked...frail. I mean don’t get me wrong, strength clothed her well but she still looked as if the stress that accompanied his ailment took a toll on her. Anyone would understand why it would have, the doctor telling her he had a month left to live all for him to die the next week. Talk about tough.

But I saw him last night.

Right before he passed and all the while he was transitioning, I was with him, not ‘her’. I held his hand, NOT ‘her’. I laid next to him and held him as he cried like

a baby saying he was sorry for who he chose to be in life, NOT ‘HER’. Im getting angry all over again the more I look at this woman, wondering why the hell I feel bad for her, Im the one who has to live the rest of my life without a mother and a father!

She was just his 1st wife. Not my fault that she didnt know her husband of 32 years married another woman in another country while deployed and had a child

with that woman just to be in and out of their lives in the form of large checks and video calls every 2 weeks.

"Mrs, Milan?"

"Yes?" Both her and I exclaimed to the doctor almost knocking him over with our bursts.

"Mr. Milan's...wife?"

The doctor says as uncomfortable as he should be in this type of situation.

“Oh...that’s her.” I said basically mimicking her reaction to my telling her what year I was born earlier.

I sullenly watch them disappear behind a pair of wide hospital doors. I should’ve been just as entitled to know any information about the man I’ve called father for 23 years. Just because I didn’t actually know that man does not mean she knew him any more than I did. She was more afraid of me than I was of her. I was the child she so desperately wanted with him. I was the child she was denied of by him because he still had “so much life left to live”. I was the child kept hidden from her for 23 years. That should’ve been me walking with the doctor through those doors, NOT HER.

The agony of sitting here waiting for any new information about him was driving me insane. Ten minutes felt like two hours and every time those oversized doors swung open, I thought it was her returning. I finally tired from balancing on the edge of my chair & sat back, closed my eyes and I can hear my “father’s” dying voice echoing off each and every corner of my brain.

“You look JUST like him. It’s truly scary.” a deep male voice says breaking my fixation on my father’s voice. I slowly open my eyes, not in a hurry to because it wasn’t him coming back from the dead and it wasn’t her telling me he came back from the dead. No, this guy was just as much of a stranger as he was strange looking.

“He never taught you to speak when you’re being spoken to?” He asks with a furrowed brow just like my father had in the picture at my gender reveal & birth, always hinted with pure disappointment. I sensed the same from this guy.

“He didn’t teach me anything, if you knew what you were talking about.” I snapped back his direction.

A grin quickly grew across his face. He thought ‘I’ looked like my father but it was like speaking to my father in the form of an old man reincarnated or something. Just give him 15 more teeth and hair at the top of his head and there my father was.

“I know who you are. You don’t know me but I know ALL about you, Lovely.” He says with his smile growing by the second.

I stare at this stranger in disbelief. How does he know me? My father kept me a secret from his world and me and my mother’s as well. I know because I remember the day he pulled me to the side on my first day of kindergarten to tell me to tell others my father was dead. Told me to say he died from natural causes. The irony.

“Jennifer, what did they say about Adam?” The old man asks wife number 1 as she reappears in the waiting room.

She’s covered in tears as she fixes her mouth to address the old man. As I leaned forward, she turned her back sharply to my face.

“I rather speak to you...ALONE Seargent sir,” she whispers to the old man probably not caring that I can hear her plainly dismiss me from knowing.

“Jennifer, I will not tolerate the cattiness. That is his child. She MUST know about her father. Out with it and loud enough for her to hear as well,” says the old man with a wink at me to follow.

Who is this guy? I’m guessing an uncle or close friend of my father but he’s too old and my father always said he didn’t have any family.

“They let me see his body before taking him away and the lawyer called to tell me some rather troubling news. He never received Adam’s...,” she pauses then turns her back to me again then whispers, “Adam’s will.”

“He’s my father! Stop treating me like some mooching abandoned dog! Anything about my father, I need to be apart of!” I exploded with everything I’ve been holding back since finding out about her.

“He didn’t want you and no one that mattered knew about you, not even the people who don't matter knew about you. Now you show up when he’s dead and unable to tell you to leave and to not touch his money for himself? Sounds like a bloodsucking hound to me!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!,” exclaimed the old man in a deeper more stern voice. “Come with me Lovely. Jennifer go home. I will handle the lawyer and everything. You BOTH will know everything. Lovely, come now.”

I didn’t attest. I didn’t fight. Not because I didn’t want to because God knows I did, but because I wanted to know who this man was. So I got up and followed him out of the hospital, of course after rolling my eyes at my father’s other wife.

We found a table in a ghost-like cafeteria

"Order whatever you like Lovely." The old man says grinning from ear to ear again.

"Not to be rude but, who are you?", I ask in a borderline rude manner.

He chuckled and said, "I thought you would have put two and two together seeing how your father inherited my striking good lucks so effortlessly. You can call me Grandpa."

Grandpa? None of it was making sense at this point. If my father had family, why did he lie to me? Why did he keep me from knowing who was also my family? My head was spinning like crazy now.

He placed a hand on my shoulder and continued, "I know this is ALOT to process all at once, but grandpa knows--"

"YOU'RE NOT MY GRANDPA! How can you be a grandpa to someone who didn't even know you existed?" I was boiling at this point. How dare he think it's that easy to just insert himself in my life like that?

I picked up my jacket and started towards the door.

"Forgetting something Lovely?"

I look back and see him holding my backpack. Crap. That was the worst exit in the book of 'Worst Exits'.

I reach for it while trying not to make eye contact but he grabbed my hand as I pulled away.

"It'll all start to make sense really soon Lovely. The answers to all of your questions are in near possession, just don't close that door before seeing what is inside of it." He says while letting my hand slide slowly out of his wrinkled yet firm grasp.

I scurry out of the hospital doors with those words on repeat.

As I wave down a taxi, what deemed to be a near impossible feat in just day to day New York traffic, I look down at my phone wishing I could call my mom. She would be the perfect person to speak to after the crazy morning I've had. Tears fall onto my phone, seaping into the cracks of my phone case, completely forgetting about my taxi problem. My phone lights up with a notification from my bank. Must be a late notification about my account being overdrawn yesterday. Taiwan is on a different time schedule so I didnt get my paycheck in time of my flight but that was the least of my worries yesterday. After the morning I had today, Im ready to go back home and NEVER look back. An impatient taxi driver interrupts my daydream with his car horn. I slide in the backseat and made up my mind, Im going back home and NEVER looking back. I had everything that I came with in my backpack so all there was to do before booking my flight was to go to the bank to get some cash to pay the taxi driver. I check my email to see how much my check was.

"THEY FROZE MY ACCOUNT DUE TO SUSPICIOUS ACTIVITY!?"

My very loud and unsuspected outburst made the taxi driver almost jump out of his body and swerve dramatically into the next lane.

“Aye what’s your problem lady? You scared me half to death!”, says the taxi driver angrily.

I sink into the car seat embarrassed. “Sorry. Can you take me to the nearest First National Bank then wait around so you can take me to the airport?”

I can see his frown grow bigger in his rear view mirror. I didn’t even know that was possible.

We pull up to the bank and I look up at the gigantic analog clock on the front of the building. Oh no, it’s 5:00pm already!? I jump out the car running as fast as I can to the bank door. Closed. Oh no, what am I going to do now. I don’t have cash on me and I don’t know anyone out here, let alone the United States. I started to panic as the taxi driver started to grow more impatient. Oh no, how will I pay him for this trip? I was about to start crying right there on that sidewalk right in front of the bank but suddenly I heard my mother’s voice in the back of head.

“Stay grounded my Lovely. Quick feet always eat.”

I look to my left and see the atm outside of the bank and as one last ditch effort, I insert my bank card to see if by God’s grace, it wasn’t frozen anymore.

I couldn’t believe it. I drop everything out of my hands without realizing and my head started spinning again. My mouth ran dry from dropping to the ground along with my bag and jacket. I stare at the atm screen in TOTAL disbelief. I could not believe the screen read $900,000 was in MY bank account. Nothing was making sense. I finally snap out of it once I hear a long line forming behind me. I snatch up my things off of the ground, almost forgetting to take my bank card out of the atm. I took one step and everything fell out of the bottom of my backpack. I knew that hole on the bottom of it was going to eventually give. I reach down to pick up my things before I get trampled by passers, and notice something that for sure was NOT mine. A small vintage looking black book with a gold clasp that had the initials ‘A.M.’ engraved in it. I look around to see if maybe the owner was looking for it but the taxi driver was now cursing me out in Spanish. I scooped up the book and ran to the car. Something was telling me to open the book but it wasn’t mine so I just froze. After five minutes of staring at it, I gave in. I removed the clasp and opened to the first page. Blank. Second page, blank. I begin to grow annoyed. Then something fell out from in between one of the pages. A tiny note read ‘If you found this note, then that means I’m dead. Continue reading, please.’ I flip to the third page and was completely grabbed by the mention of my name in the first sentence. I close the book and stare at the initials again. ‘A.M.’ It finally clicked. The old man must’ve slipped this book into my bag when I forgot it sitting in the chair at the hospital. Could this be from my father? Should I even care? I was so tempted to know why it was so important for me to have this book. I slowly opened the book again and began to read it. The first sentence reads, “Lovely, go to 3656 Lovely Lane, all of your answers will be there.”

“GO TO 3656 LOVELY LANE!” I exclaimed.

“That’ll increase your fare, you know?”, he says even more irritated by the minute.

I didn’t respond because I began to think about the insane amount of money in my bank account and a book from my father. A book full of MY father’s thoughts, unbelievable! After being a long winding road for about three minutes, I realize it was the driveway to the home he sent me to. The taxi comes to a full stop in front of a house almost as big as my dorm hall building back in Taiwan.

The taxi driver pulls up to the speaker box outside of the home’s gate and rolled my window down.

“How can I help you?”, a soft voice sounds off on the other side of the speaker.

I trip over my words, “um…ummm..My name’s..Lovely uh Lovely Sian.”

“Amazing!”, Says the same voice but more high pitch and excited now.

The large gate slowly opens and the taxi makes its way to the front of the home. Where was I? Who was that woman? Head spinning from confusion again.

So afraid to get out the car, the driver comes around and opens the car door with his hand out. I knew he was ready for me to get out and to pay him his overgrown fare. I didn’t even think about the fact that I didn’t take any cash out when I was at the ATM. Crap.

I smile, getting ready to run for it but then I saw a familiar face coming down the stairway.

“Grandpa got this Lovely, go ahead and make your way into the house. I’ll have David come gather your things.”

I couldn’t even get annoyed with the old man for calling himself my ‘Grandpa’ again. I was more relieved by him taking care of my fare. I scurried up the massive staircase and approached some giant crimson doors. I pushed one open and was greeted by a sight for sore eyes. An extremely beautiful woman, had to be in her late seventies but she aged so gracefully. I stood in the doorway in awe.

She smiled softly and said, “Hi Lovely, I’m Lovely.”

“Sorry but I’m confused.” I said still in complete amazement of her beauty.

She chuckled then motioned to me to sit down next to her.

She placed her fragile hand on my lap and said, “My name is Lovely as well. You were named after me.”

Head spinning again. The old man finally joins us in the kitchen.

He gives me the same grin from earlier then asked, “Did you get your father’s book?”

I nodded, not knowing what to say at this point.

“Did you read it?” He asked.

I shook my head no.

His furrowed reappeared as well.

“Speak child!”

My father’s favorite line to me when he WAS around. Like music to my ears hearing where he got it from.

“Adam, leave us be. Lovely, I’ll explain everything.”

After hours of sitting and listening to apparently my predecessor, it all started to make sense. I finally understood who my father really was and why he did what he did. His marriage to his first was an arranged marriage so he could stay in the states. When he visited Taiwan, he fell in love with my mother but couldn’t stay because he was on deployment and because he was married to Jessica. He married my mother and then they had me. He loved me more than life itself but at the same time disappointed because I wasn’t a boy. He thought that If I was a boy, I would’ve been accepted by his father and mother more. He would then be able to end his marriage with Jessica and move to Taiwan to be with me and my mom. But because I was a girl, he had to keep it a secret. If he was first wife found out, she could divorce him and report him to ICE. So he stayed away. He had his lawyer send checks every two weeks to make sure my mother and I was taken care of but never visited. I knew my father through video calls. He eventually told his mother and father when he found out he was dying. They were more hurt that he didn’t think they would accept me. He left me everything he had and his first wife got nothing. For some reason I didn’t feel bad after how she treated me at the hospital.

I was so relieved of all hurt and resentment I had toward my father and I was happy to know I had two pieces of him still in my life. I sat looking at pictures of him when he was child and saw how much we looked alike.

“Alright, we must go now Lovely”, the sweet old lady says while wrapping her scarf around her neck.

“Go? Where are you going? Isn’t this your home?”

The old lady and old man smiled at each other then back at me.

“No Lovely. This is YOUR home. Your father built it specifically for you and named the street after you once he told us about you. Welcome home sweetheart.”

Home. Wow. Home.