"His girls"

I always hated his gifts, I always hated receiving them because I knew they were just an apology for his absence in my life. I always hated that he thought that material things were an acceptable replacement for a father. Of course, that was before I discovered he was cheating on mom. My mother was the sweetest woman you could ever meet and she certainly was a much sweeter person than her “replacement” which had fake boobs and blonde hair. I really think she was after his money but dad didn’t seem to mind as he married her. I of course only had to endure one year of back and forth traveling every week, because once I turned twelve I got to stay with Mom and only saw them at holidays. Although that didn’t last long as mom had a hard time finding work and eventually was no longer able to afford us both. At least that's what Dad said when he went to court for custody. So here we are summer’s over and I have to come home from my pity vacation with my grandmother -the one relative that doesn’t try to talk to me and just lets me be on my own- and go back into my fathers' house for the first time in two years. So sitting at the airport waiting for a man I don’t know, well sure I know him like I could point him out during a police lineup but if you asked me what his favorite things were I honestly wouldn’t have anything for you. Ugh and of course he is late, and with his “wife” Ashley the one with the fake boobs, the one he left Mom for. He walks up to me and gives me a picture perfect welcome hug and then Bimbo feeling that she isn’t getting enough attention decides to add on and starts squealing like the pig she is and gives me a cold clammy hug, ugh disgusting. “where’s grandma?” My father says looking around as if his mother is going to pop out from somewhere. I sigh with obvious disdain “She left, she wanted to visit Mom” I say the last part with pride knowing its a sore subject around these people as if they weren't the ones who did the leaving and deserting. The Bimbo winces and my father’s face flashes with hurt as he realizes that not even a “whole three months” is enough for his Mom to forgive him for leaving the woman she used to refer to as the daughter she never had. “ah, yes well shall we get going?” he asks interrupting each of us from our own private rabbit trail of thoughts and memories. “sure let me grab my stuff” I say not wanting to be in their company much longer, only to be denied such when my father goes “thats alright I can grab it just tell me what bags you brought and I will grab them, why don’t you spend some one on one time with Ash”. As if it wasn't obvious enough what he was doing without him saying it out loud, he’s always trying to get us to “bond” or “connect” because we’re his “two girls” and every time he says this I want to vomit because -even though I hated it then too- it reminds me of when Mom was the other girl and not this fake excuse for a woman “Ash”.

*Thank you so much for reading please let me know if you like it and what you think would be a good way to continue the story (or if I should continue the story) also please know this is my first attempt at a short story so be patient when there is an error please, Thanks!