Day 363 (Pt 5): Forgiveness

After about fifteen minutes, Mr. Boris had begun to stop crying. He let out a couple more sniffles and then began to dry his tears with Kleenex tissues. He walked over to the couch and sat down. With the television turned off and the remote beside him, he had planned to watch the nightly news. "Or maybe SNL."

Suddenly, in the middle of an ad, Mr. Boris heard weird voices from upstairs. "Wait a minute, that sounds like-" As he proceeded to walk up the stairs, the mysterious voices got louder. Mr. Boris was scarcely able to make out a couple of words: "...my dad..."

"Curse these thick walls!" He uttered under his breath as to not be heard by Alice and whoever else was with her. If they were only slightly thinner, he'd be able to hear more! Mr. Boris had an idea; he silently put his ear to the door and was able to hear more.

"Not that she's dead though, right?" Then a short pause.

"It's a nice view outside, isn't it, especially at this time of night?" John, Maria, and especially Alice enjoyed the moment of peace,

"Honestly, I don't know." She shrugged. Mr. Boris was slightly confused about which question she answered or if she had answered both of them. Maybe he had failed to hear another question?

But that didn't matter because, within a nanosecond, Mr. Boris knew the right thing to do. After all, it was unfair to actively stop Alice from learning more about her mother. He might not know much, but what he knows, Alice should know too! But her tone earlier! The way Blyke, Alice, and Maria all thought they could talk back and bad mouth him! However, it was justified. They were angry, and they all had a right to be. And as her father, he should be supporting Alice, not putting her down for being curious. She looks up to him as one would ordinarily do with one's father.

Mr. Boris slowly opened the door, his voice full of sorrow and regret. He put his foot through the door and smiled for the first time that night. He was only able to admit a simple statement as he leaned on the wall: "Neither do I."

Alice, Maria, and John promptly turned around to see Mr. Boris. He was bewildered on why and how Maria and John were there, yet he told himself that now was unquestionably not the time to be asking irrelevant questions.

"D-Dad? Wha-?"

"It's okay, sweetheart. I apologize for yelling at you. It wasn't fair of me."

"B-but!" Alice stuttered as she couldn't find the right words to say. She was about to point at her friends, but Mr. Boris put up his hand to stop her. He was somehow able to decipher every word Alice didn't say.

"That doesn't matter right now. Believe me, you two," Mr. Boris looked at John and Maria and pointed at them one at a time. "We'll have a talk about it soon."

He walked over to Alice and hugged her. Tears erupted from her face and rushed down her face: she began to audibly wail. "Shhhhh, it's okay. It's okay to cry."

John was sneaking out and leaving through the door, but Maria pulled him back in and sat him down upright on the bed.

Alice kept sobbing, and her dad kept reassuring her. "It's all okay, I promise. C'mon, Blyke should be here too for what I'm about to show you guys."

To everyone's surprise, Blyke was waiting at the door with a stuffed animal in his hand. Maria jumped when she noticed him, and John was too busy taking in the moment to see Blyke; he even shed a little tear. Once Alice had finished crying, Mr. Boris had told her to sit down: "I'll be right back."

Alice slumped down in between John and Maria and stared at the carpet below her. "So, umm, do you feel any better?" Maria asked. She was hoping to make some conversation while Alice's father was gone.

"Yeah, I guess. I just didn't expect Dad to sympathize."

"Well, he does know what you're going through, don't you think?"

Alice turned to Maria in rage. "What do you mean? He has no idea what it's like! Only having a faint memory of her, already forgetting what color her eyes were, not even knowing her name."

Maria took a breath to say something, but John interjected. "How old is Blyke?"

"Nine, why?"

"And you're sixteen, right?"

"Good to know my friends know how old I am. No, I'm sixty-nine; I thought I already told you guys that." Alice grumbled sarcastically.

"That means the last time you saw her was a decade ago, right?"

"No, I didn't see her then. The last time I saw her was on my fourth birthday. The only reason I remember it was because she left in a khaki-colored trench coat, a midnight-black fedora that was a couple sizes too big, and rosy-red sunglasses that was too compact to see through."

"Oh, nevermind." John and Maria were out of ideas; Alice seemed too dejected.

Blyke walked over to Alice and put out his stuffed animal for her. "Do you want Hammie? It makes me feel better when I hug him."

Alice looked up at Blyke and managed a slight smile. "Thanks, Blyke, but I'm okay."

"No, you're not." Blyke did his pouty face with puppy-dog eyes to convince Alice. He genuinely wanted for his sister to feel better.

"Okay, munchkin." Alice accepted the stuffed animal and tightly hugged it. Blyke walked over to the side of the bed, got on, and hugged Alice from behind.

Mr. Boris was about to come in with a picture in hand but then decided against it. For the first time, his kids were getting along despite their immense age difference. He left the picture on her dresser and left the room.

John and Maria chose to join the family hug. After all, aren't friends just family you can choose, and John and Maria were part of Alice's family since kindergarten.