Chapter 2: The Father Who Came Back
Andre was waiting at a corner table when I entered the coffee shop.
He stood immediately.
"Maya.""
For a second, I barely recognized him.
He had more gray in his beard than I remembered, and the expensive watch on his wrist looked newer than anything he'd ever bought for me.
But his smile was familiar.
It was the same smile he used to give me when I was little, right before promising something he rarely delivered.
He opened his arms.
I hesitated before allowing him to hug me.
"Look at you," he said.
"You're all grown up.""
I sat across from him.
"You said you had something important to tell me.""
His smile faded.
"Straight to business. You really are your mother's daughter.""
I stiffened.
"Don't do that.""
"Do what?""
"Talk about Mom like she's some kind of enemy.""
Andre raised both hands.
"All right. I'm sorry.""
A server approached, and he ordered me a hot chocolate without asking what I wanted.
I used to love hot chocolate when I was eight.
At seventeen, I preferred iced coffee.
He didn't know that.
When the server left, Andre leaned forward.
"I want to start by saying I've made mistakes.""
I waited.
"I wasn't always the father you deserved.""
"That's one way to put it.""
He flinched.
"I know you're angry.""
"Do you?""
"Maya, I missed things. Important things. But there's a reason.""
I looked at him carefully.
"What's the reason?""
He glanced toward the windows.
"Your mother told me Chris didn't want me around.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
"After she married Chris, she said you were adjusting to your new family and that my visits upset you.""
"That's not true.""
"She said you cried after I left.""
"I cried because you kept leaving.""
He looked down at his hands.
For the first time, I saw something that resembled shame.
"I didn't know that.""
"You didn't ask.""
The words seemed to strike him harder than I expected.
He swallowed.
"You're right.""
I waited for him to explain why a grown man had accepted another person's version of his daughter's feelings without speaking to her.
He didn't.
Instead, he reached into his jacket and removed a folded piece of paper.
"I have something you need to see.""
He slid it across the table.
It was a printed email.
The date was nine years earlier.
The subject line read: *Maya Needs Stability.*
I looked at the sender.
Natasha Johnson.
My mother's email address.
My stomach twisted.
"What is this?""
Andre tapped the page.
"Read it.""
The message was short.
My mother had written that I was struggling emotionally after the divorce. She said Chris had become the main father figure in my life and that my continued visits with Andre were causing confusion.
Then I reached the last paragraph.
For Maya's sake, I think it's best if you step back for a while. Chris is providing the stability she needs, and I don't want her caught between two fathers. Please don't contact her until we agree on a plan.
I read it again.
Then a third time.
"She wrote this?""
"Yes.""
"Did you call me?""
Andre shook his head.
"She said not to.""
I stared at him.
"You could have called my school.""
"I know.""
"You could have shown up at my apartment.""
"I know.""
"You could have asked me whether I wanted to see you!""
His voice rose.
"I KNOW, MAYA!""
Several people turned toward us.
Andre lowered his voice.
"I'm not saying I handled it correctly. I didn't. But I was trying to respect what I thought was best for you.""
I pushed the paper away.
"That's convenient.""
He rubbed his forehead.
"I deserve that.""
I wanted to hate him.
It would have been easier if he had laughed at me, dismissed my feelings, or told me I was too young to understand.
Instead, he sat there looking like a man who had finally realized that his excuses sounded pathetic when spoken aloud.
"Why are you telling me this now?"" I asked.
"Because of what happened with Chris.""
"What happened?""
Andre took a long breath.
"Your mother called me yesterday.""
I felt my pulse quicken.
"What did she say?""
"She said Chris was threatening to withdraw financial support from you.""
I frowned.
"He wasn't threatening anything.""
"She said he was refusing to pay for prom because he doesn't consider you his daughter.""
"That's not what happened.""
Andre's expression shifted.
"Then why did she say it?""
"Because she wanted him to pay for a two-thousand-dollar prom budget, and he said it was too much.""
He looked surprised.
"Two thousand?""
"Yes.""
Andre leaned back.
For a moment, he seemed almost offended on my behalf.
Then he said something that made my stomach drop.
"Your mother asked me to pay for it.""
I stared at him.
"She did?""
"She said it was my responsibility as your father.""
I let out a short, disbelieving laugh.
"She hasn't asked you to attend anything in years.""
"She said she wanted to give you a special senior prom.""
"She wanted Chris to pay for it.""
Andre looked away.
"Maybe.""
"Not maybe. That's exactly what happened.""
He didn't argue.
Instead, he reached into his jacket again.
This time, he pulled out a small envelope.
"I was going to give you this when we met.""
I opened it.
Inside was a cashier's check for two thousand dollars.
My mouth went dry.
"You can't be serious.""
"I know it's not enough to make up for everything, but I thought—"
"Keep it.""
"Maya—"
"I don't want your money.""
"It's for prom.""
"I don't care.""
He reached across the table, but I pulled the envelope back.
"Please listen to me," he said.
"I don't want you to think I'm trying to buy your forgiveness.""
"Then why bring a check?""
He had no answer.
I pushed the envelope toward him.
"If you want to be my father, start by learning who I am.""
He stared at me.
Then he slowly put the check away.
"You're right.""
The words came so easily that I almost wished he'd fought me.
I needed to know whether he could do anything beyond agreeing with whatever made him look reasonable.
"There's something else," he said.
I stood up.
"No.""
"Maya, please. This is important.""
"Then tell me.""
He looked toward the entrance before speaking.
"Your mother didn't just ask me to pay for prom.""
I remained standing.
"What else did she ask?""
Andre's fingers tightened around his coffee cup.
"She asked me to help her convince Chris to sign some papers.""
"What papers?""
"I don't know exactly. She said they were about the house and family finances.""
I frowned.
"Our house?""
"Yes.""
"Why would Chris sign anything for you?""
"He wouldn't be signing them for me. Natasha said she wanted to protect your future.""
I shook my head.
"That doesn't make any sense.""
"I know.""
"Then why are you involved?""
Andre hesitated.
That hesitation told me more than his previous answers.
"Andre.""
He looked up.
"What aren't you telling me?""
He opened his mouth.
Then he closed it.
Finally, he said, "Your mother told me something else yesterday.""
I sat down slowly.
"What?""
"She said Chris had been planning to leave her for months.""
My chest tightened.
"That's not true.""
"She said he was tired of supporting a family that wasn't his.""
I remembered Chris's face in the kitchen.
His hurt when Mom called me her daughter and him an outsider.
His quiet promise that I wasn't responsible for holding our family together.
I looked at Andre.
"Do you believe her?""
He hesitated again.
"I don't know what to believe anymore.""
For the first time, we agreed on something.
I stood, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door.
Andre followed me outside.
"Maya, wait.""
I turned.
"If you really want to be part of my life, don't ask me to choose between you and Chris.""
He nodded.
"I won't.""
"And don't call me princess like you know me.""
His face crumpled slightly.
"All right.""
I walked away before he could say anything else.
The drive home felt longer than usual.
Every traffic light seemed to hold me in place while my thoughts ran in circles.
My mother had told Andre to stay away from me.
She had told Chris he wasn't my father.
She had asked Andre for money while demanding money from Chris.
And now she was asking Chris to sign papers.
I couldn't understand what she was doing.
But I knew I needed answers.
When I arrived home, I found Mom sitting at the kitchen island with a stack of documents.
She quickly slid them into a folder when she saw me.
"Where have you been?""
I stopped.
"Meeting Dad.""
Her face went white.
"Which dad?""
The question was so cruel that I couldn't tell whether she meant it to be.
"Andre.""
Mom stood so quickly that her chair scraped against the floor.
"What did he tell you?""
I stared at her.
"Why does it matter?""
"Because he's a liar.""
I almost laughed.
"You haven't spoken to him in months, but somehow you already know what he said?""
She stepped toward me.
"Maya, listen to me. Andre is trying to destroy this family.""
"Then why did you tell him not to contact me when I was eight?""
Her mouth fell open.
I pulled the printed email from my bag and held it up.
"Did you write this?""
She stared at the page.
For several seconds, she looked as if she might deny it.
Then she whispered, "Where did you get that?""
"From Andre.""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"You don't understand.""
"Then explain it.""
She reached for the paper.
I pulled it away.
"Don't tell me I'm too young. Don't tell me this is between adults. You made decisions about my life, and now I want to know why.""
Her face hardened.
"Because someone had to protect you.""
"From my own father?""
"From the confusion he caused!""
"He was confused because you told him to stay away!""
Mom slammed her palm against the island.
"I did what I thought was best!""
The sound echoed through the kitchen.
Then she noticed the folder beside her.
She snatched it up and clutched it to her chest.
I looked at the folder.
"What are those papers?""
"Nothing you need to worry about.""
"Are they about Chris?""
She didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
"Mom, what are you trying to get him to sign?""
Her lips trembled.
Before she could respond, the front door opened.
Chris walked into the kitchen carrying a grocery bag.
He looked from Mom's face to the paper in my hand.
Then his eyes settled on the folder.
He set the groceries down slowly.
"Natasha," he said, "please tell me you haven't shown Maya those documents.""
Mom froze.
I turned toward him.
"What documents?""
Chris looked at the folder in her arms.
Then he looked at me.
And for the first time in nine years, I saw something in his expression that frightened me more than anger.
Fear.
"Because," he said quietly, "if Maya has seen that email, she deserves to know what happened after it was sent.""
Mom backed away from the island.
"Chris, don't.""
He didn't look at her.
He looked directly at me.
"Nine years ago, your mother didn't just ask Andre to leave you alone.""
May you like
He paused.
"She asked me to help make sure he never came back.""
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