Don't Wanna Try
Chapter 32
Marshall trudged through his front door, confused and hurt. He could hardly muster a smile when his daughter came bouncing up to him.
“Hi, Daddy!” she welcomed him. Immediately, she noticed her father’s lack of enthusiasm and the sad look in his eyes.
“What’s wrong!” she demanded with her foot tapping on the hardwood floor.
“Nothin’, baby. How was your day?”
“Oh, no you don’t mister! You’ve been alllll mopey! Please, tell me Daddy! I can fix it, I promise!”
“Don’t worry about it, Hai,” he replied. “Tell me what you did while I was gone,” he suggested and crouched on the floor so he was at her height.
“Why are you keeping secrets from me?” she cried.
“Baby, I’m not!”
“Then tell me why you’re so sad!”
“Daddy’s girlfriend broke up with him—”
“I’m sorry, Daddy! Did you really like her?”
“Yes, baby, I did.”
“Did you love her?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“It’s not a hard question! Either you do or you don’t!” Hailie countered.
“It’s a little harder when you’re an adult, honey.”
“Does she know that you like her lots?”
“I thought she did.”
“Oh, Daddy!” she sighed dramatically. “Didja ever tell her that?”
“Not in those exact words—”
“Maybe she doesn’t know! Maybe she thinks you don’t like her!”
“She knows, but she just doesn’t like me very much,” he replied.
“Well, then, she doesn’t know what she’s missin’!” Hailie replied and kissed her father on his forehead.
The week passed slowly, especially the last few days due to the fact that his only distraction—Hailie—had gone back to Detroit. Marshall tried to put her out of his mind, but he couldn’t erase the look of fear and pain he saw in Vanessa’s eyes before he left. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he decided that he had to come up with some way to get her back.
“I can’t believe you quit!” Mara admonished.
“I did what you’re not supposed to do—and then I couldn’t handle it.”
“Honey, I’m so sorry…”
“I already got a temp working for him, so it’s all been taken care of. I think I’m going to move back home for a while, too.”
“He’s chased you all the way to the other coast?”
“More like I’m running.”
“Wait—you broke it off?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Then why are you so sad?”
Vanessa turned away from her boss, unable to meet her eyes.
“Buy it!” Marshall yelled into the phone. “I don’t care how much it takes! I want it to be mine by Monday!” Furiously, he slammed the phone back into the cradle.
He tried to calm himself with what he’d have ownership of in a few days. He hoped to have ownership, at least.
“Oh, my god…” she gasped as she read the letter she’d just opened.
It was the deed to a house.
Her old house.
Grabbing her purse, she flew out of her apartment, hell-bent on getting to one place and one place only.
“What kind of stunt are you trying to pull?” she asked angrily as she burst into Marshall’s office.
“What the hell?” he replied innocently.
“This, what are you trying to do?” she threw the deed on his desk. “You can’t buy me a fucking house!”
“I can, and I did. It’s yours. Paid in full. Nobody can take it away from you,” he said softly.
She collapsed on the floor in a heap of tears. “Damn it, why are you doing this to me?” she cried.
“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to make you cry! Please, stop!”
Suddenly ashamed, she picked herself up off the floor and wiped away her tears. “Well, it’s your house! I don’t want anything from you!” she sighed.
“Don’t leave,” he pleaded, grabbing her arm. “You do want something. But what? What is it that I can’t give you?” Marshall asked in such a beseeching tone she turned around in his grasp.
“This,” she whispered brokenly, placing her palm on his chest, above his heart.
He looked down at her soft, delicate hand.
“How can I give it to you…when you’ve taken it from me?” he replied and leaned his forehead against hers.
EpilogueAuthor: zines@aol.com
These stories are for entertainment purposes only. They are completely fictitious, and the authors mean no harm to EMINEM, his family, friends, or anyone else that may have been depicted as a 'real life' character. No money was made on the fiction here, either directly or indirectly, i.e. paid advertising. In other words - it's just a bunch of shit we wrote for fun. Please don't take it seriously.