Sunday, July 15, 2012

The Dollhouse

"Tell me more...", Dad enthusiastically said after I showed him my recent project as he closed his laptop. It was a dollhouse made of old paper and it boasts of a foldable kitchen, living room and everything a simple house has.

I was the happiest girl that afternoon as he played with me, really proud of his daughter's work. While we were playing, I looked at him and felt that I he really loved me, that I was far more important than his work.

But that was years ago. I no longer play with dollhouses and dolls. I now play with numbers, I was busy with work, managing my finances and making sure I won't fail.

I was at my home that Sunday afternoon working for a report I needed to submit early Monday morning when I heard my doorbell rang. I wondered if it's the neighboor as I went to get the door and was surprised to see Dad on my doorstep.

I asked him to come in as he kissed me on the cheek. I asked where was Mom and he said he went here alone since he was worried why I haven't visited him lately.

"I was busy with work, Pop. Deadlines, deadlines and more deadlines...", I muttered, irritated as I looked at my computer showing worksheets of unfinished business.

He laughed, as my living room felt alive with his laughter.

"I know how that feels like." he said as he sat comfortably in my sofa as I prepared to get him drinks and cookies.

I gave my computer one last look as I decided to lock it and spend my afternoon with Dad. For some reason, his presence made me feel I can do it anyway, that I will be able to spend time on it later.

Dad and I shared the cookies as he asked how I was doing and how I shouldn't forget to take care of myself. I told him I was pressured at work and that I was thinking of leaving. I mentioned I was dating Jake and his eyed widened with shock, hearing me having the time to finally date someone.

"Tell me more about this Jake...", as I blushed, but felt fine afterwards as I told him I liked Jake, that he had gray eyes, that he was a business executive and that we were getting along pretty well.

I grew up confident in telling Dad everything, since I knew he always listened. He listened with his heart. Mom was even jealous of him when it was Dad who first knew I already got my period. I smiled, as I remembered how Dad panicked and bought different kinds of napkins and tampons for me.

"You really like this guy, huh?" Pop asked, somehow I felt he was kind of jealous.

"Oh Pop...", I hugged him tight like how I used to. "You're my first love.", I assured him as I saw him smile again.

"Just make sure he won't hurt you or else!", I knew it was just a joke, but deep down, he really meant it.

I laughed hard at the idea of Dad giving Jake a smack in the face. I haven't laughed for the longest time and it really felt good.

"I love you, Popsy.", I told him.

"I love you too, Barbie doll...". He hugged me again as we were interrupted by a phone call.

I asked Dad for a minute since I was waiting for a call from my staff who needed to send me a file.

I answered the phone and was shocked to hear it was Mom, sobbing on the other line, rambling for words as she finally made sense, telling me that Dad just died of a heart attack.

3 comments:

  1. Nice Story!! There is a new site where the concept of social storytelling produces unique short stories www.shareatale.com (a group of people work together on a single story)

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  2. Hi
    You have a spectacular blog and I love it. So I nominated you for the Liebster Award. See my post here: http://thestorytellingmom.wordpress.com/2012/11/15/and-the-award-goes-to/
    A great way to get more bloggers to know about you!
    Keep up the good work.

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  3. I really enjoyed the story, especially the ending. It really did suck me in to the moment.

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