Writer's Wednesday || Part 10 - The Father

YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!

I finally got over my writer's block on this one, and am getting another installment up! I already have half of the next one written, and, like, ten outlined. 

Aaaaaand noooow! *she types in a game show-host voice* Give it up foooooor--This Name and Moment!

- Part 10 -

The Father

Six months had passed since April had met Dylan in the park.

7:18 p.m., July 17, 1952

Her whole life, she had been waiting for this time in her head to come. And now that it passed, April somehow felt hollow. As if now that her the moment was gone, something was meant to take its place.

A harsh winter snowstorm ushered in the beginning of 1953. April was turning fifteen today, January 17, and for once she was excited about her birthday.

In her mother's mind, throwing extravagant parties for yourself on your birthday was just what you did. But April didn't like bringing so much attention down on herself. And she really didn't have enough friends to throw as big a party as her mother usually had in mind.

This year, April had convinced her parents to invite Dylan and his family over for dinner. It was small, and it would mean Dylan could finally meet her father. Due to her father's line of work, he always arrived home after Dylan had already dropped her off and gone home.   

Tonight they would fix that.

April bustled around their modest house, straightening and dusting everything twice, simultaneously giddy and frightened. Her stomach swam with butterflies.

In the kitchen, her mother hummed as she prepared dinner. There was a ring of the front door bell. April jumped. She shook her head at herself, fidgeted a second with her dress, then went to the door and opened it.

Dylan stood there, his parents at either shoulder. His mother was a sturdily built, tall woman who wore a beige dress and a warm expression. His father was extremely tall and gangly, with shaggy gray hair and a slightly stooped posture. She saw now where Dylan got his lithe height.

"Oh, hi!" She smiled brightly, stomach flipping.

Dylan grinned back--and was it just her, or did he look nervous too?

"Hey, April," he said. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks. Please, come in."

The three followed her in and April shut the door. She called to her mother, "They're here!"

Ginger Portlynn came to greet their guests with an outstretched hand and flushed cheeks. She was wearing her Sunday best, with an apron pulled over to protect it from the pork roast she was cooking. Ginger was a woman with radiant red hair to match her name and teeth so white they could glow in the dark. In truth, her mother had been an aspiring actress when she met April's father. She moved from Hollywood to this little town and now ran the town theatre house.

"Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Bryant! It's so nice to meet you," she greeted. "And good to see you again, Dylan."

Ginger had loved Dylan since the moment April had introduced him. She was constantly giving April significant, and none-too-subtle glances when he was around.

"Please," Mrs. Bryant said. "Call us Amy and John."

Ginger smiled and showed them to the living room. Dylan hung back, so April hung back with him. She glanced up and down from his face to the floor nervously.

"I got you something," he said, pulling an object out of his pocket.

April tisked and took the small package from him, "You didn't have to get me anything."

"I wanted to. Open it."

Inside lay a beautiful, small piece wood, stained dark and smooth as marble, with the letter A neatly carved in the center. It was attached like a pendant to a black cord.

April gave a small gasp and picked it up, "Dylan, it's beautiful!"

Dylan, hands clasped behind his back, leaned over to look at it with her. "Well… I couldn't think of what to give you, until I remembered you talking about that North mytholo--"

"Norse."

"Norse mythology stuff, and about that Ash and Embla couple--"

"It's Ask."

"Yes, well you said in Norse Ask  meant Ash. So, anyways, I just thought… It's ash wood. I made it."

April gave him a wide smile and slipped the necklace over her head. It sat elegantly on her chest. She gave him a quick hug, "Thank you, Dylan."

"Sure. Happy birthday."

April and Dylan joined the others. Ginger was talking as she finished preparing dinner, able to see their guests in the living room over the bar top counter, the only thing separating the two rooms.

"Dylan, I was just apologizing to your parents for my husband's absence this evening," Ginger said as they came into the living room. "David's work calls him away a great deal, and he won't be home till late this evening."

"Oh," said Dylan. "What does he do?"

"He's a large animal veterinarian," April said. " And in this town…"

Dylan laughed and nodded, "Yeah. He's got to be busy. There's been a cow-tipping epidemic lately."

The evening went by both slowly and quickly. The moments as they sat around the table, the grownups getting to know each other and Dylan sitting next to April, stretched on, warm and peaceful. But then the Bryants were standing to leave, the sun had gone down, and April was following Dylan out onto the porch.

Ginger waved to John and Amy as they climbed in their car, then went back inside, leaving the door open for April to follow. Once again, Dylan hung back a little. He waited until John and Amy had shut the car doors before turning to April and opening his mouth to say something. Then he closed it--opened it--then seemed to notice his shoe was untied and bent down to knot it. Dylan had no idea why on earth he was tying his shoe at a time like this.

"Listen… There's…There's something I want to tell you before we leave…"

He didn't look up for her answer. He took the silence to mean he could go on and suddenly blurted, "I like you. I really like you."

Dylan stood up, then jumped as he saw the man now standing where April had been a moment before. He was six-foot-two and built like a machine. Gray straggled through his black hair and into his side burns.

"Aw, that's sweet, kid. I really like you too," the man said, eyebrows raised.

Dylan was speechless.

April peeked out from behind her father sheepishly, blushing both for Dylan and herself.

Dylan liked her.

"Daddy," she said, laying a hand on his shoulder. He had come through the door just as Dylan was talking. Her father was often a stern man and she was afraid of what he might say to Dylan. What if he didn't like Dylan's looks told her she couldn't talk to him anymore?

But instead of being angry, David Portlynn seemed highly amused.

"I'm twice as sorry I missed dinner now that I know how much you like me, son," said David. "But I believe your parents are waiting for you." He nodded at the humming car on the curb.

Dylan swallowed and nodded mechanically. April bit her lip and he caught her eyes. He was both terrified and embarrassed. She tried to smile and let him know it was really all right.

Dylan turned swiftly to go, but David stopped him. "And some advice, son," he said quietly. "Next time you get down on one knee in front of a girl, make sure it isn't to tie your shoe."

Face burning, Dylan nodded again, turned, and joined his parents. Their car pulled away.

April mentally slapped herself, then Dylan, then her father, then herself again.

Dylan liked her.

If you liked it, leave a comment! If you didn't, even better! Leave me a comment and critique me. :) 

Yours ever,

~The Scribbler in the Attic