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Post by ✿ngela wingrose on Apr 26, 2009 18:08:25 GMT -5
"Hi daddy, I'm home!"
"Hello Travis, how are you?"
"Omigosh I missed you so much!"
"It's great to see you again, it's been a really long time."
"Is Preston here?"
"How's everything going at the new office?"
Angela was practicing what she was going to say when she saw her father. It had been nearly a year since she'd seen him last. Was it really graduation since they'd spoken face to face? Phone calls were rare and very brief. Whenever Angela wanted to communicated with Travis, her messages would go through Preston, and vice versa. She spoke to Preston more often than she spoke to her own father, and she had never in her life met the man. She was sure she'd be received with an awkward and abrupt 'hello'. She didn't know if she should offer to make dinner, or if Conchita had already prepared it... she wasn't even sure if Conchita still worked for the man. The beloved nanny might have been dismissed with the current recession and the lack of a needy daughter around the house.
She had knocked already, and was anxiously awaiting for the door to open and for someone to greet her. Whether it be a house keeper or her father, she had no idea. But the thought of seeing her father again had her palms sweating and her stomach churning. Not that she wouldn't be overjoyed to see him, but possessing the knowledge of what she was about to admit to him... it would put any daughter on edge.
She was early - her run-in with Charlotte was cut short because of the short fuse on her emotions. Angela was up and down more than usual, and her tear ducts seem to be attached to her mood swings. She was nearly in tears just thinking about how nervous she was, standing there on the door step.
Then the door opened and she jumped.
"Uhm... hi."
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Post by pwn on Apr 26, 2009 20:15:11 GMT -5
Today had been a fairly good day. Preston had managed to keep his boss's mind off of his daughter, and thus in safe territory, ever since Kennedy had dropped in to say "Hi." Oh, and, "I got your daughter pregnant." Mustn't forget that. Luckily for Preston, Travis had received an urgent call before Kennedy had a chance to give the old man a heart-attack and a criminal record, and had left. After Kennedy gave up and left himself, Preston had been expecting to have to fend the man off constantly, but he appeared to have given up. It was like he'd disappeared off the face of the planet.
But none of that mattered anymore, it would seem. The problem had come to them.
Initially (or rather, right after the shock of seeing the young woman he instantly recognized from the picture on Travis' desk wore off). his reaction was to slam the door in her face and tell Travis it had been a Jehovah's Witness or something. But he knew that if Travis found out what he'd done, he would lose not only his job, but probably his life as well. But he also figured he'd lose both of those things in the resulting explosion when Travis found out about Angela's... 'condition', so what did it matter? But then again, Travis might take it easy on his only daughter. He loves her. But then again, that might mean Travis would take it out on Preston instead. But then again...
The door to the manor opened and closed very, very slightly as each side of the internal argument Preston was having until finally, painfully, and at a pace a snail would sprint past, opened the door fully. The best, most forced smile he could manage froze onto his face as he greeted the harbinger of his doom.
"Hiiiiiiiiiiii!" he said, doing a splendid job of forcing cheer into his speech (it was a talent he'd had a lot of practice at). "Can I help you?"
He might have kept the girl at the door all day had Travis not intervened.
"Preston? Who is at the door? You had better not be signing me up for People again," came the voice of the man himself from his study upstairs.
Preston sighed and his smile stretched its limits. "You'd better come in," he said, and he gave Angela an impatient look that said she'd either move quick or be stuck outside again. Assuming she entered, Preston closed the large door behind her and made his way to the stairs.
"Wait here a minute. I need to tell him he has a... surprise guest."
He left Angela to her own devices in the foyer. No one but Preston and Travis was home; Conchita no longer cooked for them with Angela gone, but still came in occasionally to clean and still received full pay. Travis seemed no worse off for the recession, but this was probably due to his stingy ways. Preston stuck around to take care of the man, though he'd told Travis he simply needed a place to stay. Preston had gained a great deal of respect for the nanny, Conchita, after a short time living with the grumpy man.
Preston promptly appeared at the top of the stairs again, and beckoned for Angela to come up.
"Just be quiet," he hissed. "He has a headache."
He almost felt sorry for Angela. Almost.
kinda crap and disjointed as heck, but i figured this needs to happen. behind enough as it is .-.
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Post by ✿ngela wingrose on Apr 26, 2009 21:27:25 GMT -5
Angela's mouth opened and closed with the first three movements of the door. Was he going to let her in? Angela eventually grew impatient, and she was quite upset that the door was slammed in her face. Her arms were crossed and her foot was tapping, and when Preston finally opened the door with that gigantic smile on his face, Angela raised both eyebrows (because she couldn't raise just one), in a quizical and irritated look. Never before did she ever act this disrespectful to someone, but with her constantly shifting moods, Angela found it more and more difficult to put up with things she could have effortlessly before.
She was about to reply with a short 'I'm his daughter' when she heard her father call down. When Preston pressed on to state that he needed to inform her father of a 'surprise' guest, Angela grimaced.
"I'm not a 'surprise' guest," Angela insisted, "I'm just early." She had arranged with her father (one of those rare direct phone calls) that she would be visiting today. It was four - her flight from the market where she'd caught up with Charlotte Cooper had only taken half an hour, but she'd needed an extra half hour to regroup and put herself back together. Angela wasn't supposed to arrive until six, but she thought it best to come early.
Which was why it was aggravating that Preston was acting as though he was sitting on some sort of pedestal. Angela waited while Preston did his self-assigned duties and when he gestured to her, she narrowed her eyes at him before she started up the stairs. His warning about Travis's condition merited a scathing, "Thanks," before she entered her father's study.
She closed the door behind her, but spoke loud enough for Preston to hear outside.
"Does he annoy you as much as he annoys me?"
Angela almost sounded capable of the street wit and bite Travis always wished she would have possessed. But then that broad, innocent smile she'd mastered by the age of three spread over her mouth, and she was overwhelmed with joy at being united with her father after all this time. All her worries were momentarily pushed aside and she rushed around the man's desk to wrap her arms around his shoulders and squeeze.
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Post by Ϛ Travis Sivart on Apr 26, 2009 21:51:59 GMT -5
Angela's words were by and large ignored by Preston, who retreated to what he hoped was a safe distance as soon as she was off his hands. He didn't have much by way of optimism, though.
"Yes," said Travis, "but he's also the be..."
In his state of late, that being a very shaky and non-Travis one, he failed to recognize his own daughter's voice right away, as he stared with great intensity out the window behind him. By the time he'd realized who was speaking to him and turned in his chair, she was already wrapping him in a hug. He weakly placed his arms on her back for the gesture, speaking only when she pulled away.
"Angela? What are you doing here?" he asked, confusion playing faintly across his brow.
It appeared as though Preston's diagnosis of being a surprise guest was correct, though the truth went a little more deep than that...
Travis had received the call from his daughter, one of their rare direct calls, and never bothered to tell Preston about it. Thus Preston had no idea of the incoming visit, and thus, when Travis' strangely fragile mind lost its grip on the memory of that phone call, there was no one to remind him of the appointment. This was Preston's (increasingly necessary) job most days, but the circumstances hadn't allowed for that.
"Is something wrong?" Travis asked gruffly, but the concern was evident (if strange to hear) in his voice as well.
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Post by ✿ngela wingrose on Apr 28, 2009 0:10:26 GMT -5
"What?" Angela became a little paranoid that her father immediately assumed something was wrong. She didn't suspect anything amiss in his health - she was already so stressed about her own problems to think of much else. Instead she assumed right away that he was more attentive, and that he could see right past her practiced smiles and extra excitement.
"No, nothing is wrong," She wanted to make this clear right from the start. That nothing here was a mistake, and everything was going to be fine. She studied him, wondering how best to broach the topic, when she noticed how different he looked.
"Nothing's wrong with me... but..." She hesitated, "...are you alright?" In all the years she knew him, not once had he ever given her reason to worry for him. She was always so absorbed in her own troubles and in her own joys to focus on Travis, but now as she stared at him, she wondered how many secrets he had, how many things she didn't know were burdening him.
"Do you want something to drink? I can go get you some water. Or coffee?" Angela suggested. It felt strange, being the one to care for her father. She was so accustomed to being the one being looked after, reversing the roles, however briefly, felt awkward.
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Post by Ϛ Travis Sivart on May 2, 2009 14:23:25 GMT -5
The fact that no immediate explanation for Angela's actions and sudden appearance came to him told Travis he was confused, and shreds of his more assertive personality that still functioned told him he didn't like that fact one bit. He was Travis Sivart; he was never out of the loop, especially not when it came to his daughter. And yet he was...
The way she assured him nothing was wrong was in fact not very reassuring at all, and he couldn't help but imagine he wasn't going to like whatever it was she had to say. It was this frame of mind that led him to believe that Angela was stalling, not faltering, and that she was simply trying to change the subject, and wasn't actually worried about him. After all, what reason could anyone possibly have to be worried about him?
"Of course I'm all right," Travis said testily. "And I've got a coffee right here." He motioned to his desk, where a plain white mug sat. "Now, Angela, sit down and tell me why it is that you're here. You're beginning to worry me."
As he waited for her to comply, he raised his mug to his lips and took a sip of his coffee. Or rather, he would have, had the mug not been empty. Unbeknownst to him, he'd finished the beverage half an hour ago, cold, after he'd forgotten about it for the majority of the day. In fact, this was the second time he'd made to take a sip from the empty mug since then.
Ignoring this, he set the mug back down and stared at his daughter, awaiting her explanation.
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Post by ✿ngela wingrose on May 4, 2009 9:40:48 GMT -5
"Oh... right," He always found a way to make her feel silly or foolish around him. Angela eyed his coffee mug as though it were to blame for putting her in this position, but she took a deep breath and decided; the sooner the better.
"I'm getting married," Angela said, voice shaking despite her will to be strong, "W-we haven't set the date, but Kennedy and I are e-engaged," that much was self-explanatory, but Angela rambled on, "a-and we want to start our own family, as soon a-as possible."
The young lady was flustered, stuttering as she tried to explain everything to the man whose opinion mattered the most to her. She had been so terrified of this moment, for such a long time. She'd have to call Kennedy later to tell him how it went, but she could hardly think of that, because she didn't know how it was going. It was all her talking and talking, and Travis saying nothing. She bit her lip to help shut up, and swallowed, anticipating... actually, she had no idea what to anticipate.
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Post by Ϛ Travis Sivart on May 6, 2009 15:15:40 GMT -5
Travis listened silently and intently to Angela's speech, his face showing no hint of what he was thinking. What he was thinking being something along the lines of, "Well, they've been dating for a respectable amount of time. And in today's society, she's lucky to have a guy as good as him. It's not like they're getting married tomorrow or anything, they're just getting engaged," and other, generally good-natured, thoughts.
There was, however, one little snag. "Start a family? You're not ready for that, Angela. I don't think Tristan---"
Only upon saying her fiancée's name aloud did he finally realize that something was amiss with her previous statement.
"What did you say? Say that again." As he spoke, he rose from his seated position until he was leaning slightly over the desk, though his face remained stoic. Inside, he was operating on the assumption that he'd misheard. Or that she'd misspoke. But it sounded as though she'd said some other name entirely.
Of course, that couldn't be the case. Right?
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Post by ✿ngela wingrose on May 6, 2009 15:57:11 GMT -5
Tr-Tristan?
Angela swallowed hard. Travis was nodding along as though everything were okay, which was encouraging, and even his being slightly opposed to her wanting to start a family was a natural response. However when he mentioned Tristan, it felt like he was poking the wound Charlotte freshly opened not hours ago. The worst part was; she would've had Travis's approval if she were marrying Tristan. But now...
"Daddy, Tristan and I broke up a very long time ago," Angela said softly, "Kennedy, the boy who helped you renovate your office? He is my fiance, not Tristan." She was trying to be gentle and clear, but she was trembling. She knew she wouldn't get his approval now, and it was the second worst feeling in the world to know her lover was not accepted by her father. The first worst feeling in the world was only moments away from being felt.
She tried restating everything again, for her father's sake, but stumbled through it like a football player in high heels.
"Ken-Kennedy a-and I are en-engaged. W-we want to start a fa-family...!"
It was the worst moment for her stomach to protest, and a hand flew to her abdomen, acting upon instinct and abandoning wisdom. The area where her dress was supposed to flow freely had something hard beneath it - a belly. It would dishonour Travis's keen eyes for Angela to even hope this passed his notice, however she wished for it anyway. She pretended to smooth out her dress while she concentrated on keeping her face void of any pain.
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Post by Ϛ Travis Sivart on May 11, 2009 13:59:13 GMT -5
Just changing it to "Kennedy, Eoin Cavan's son? He is my fiance..." would fit mine well.
Travis was silent for a long moment, the look on his face showing, for once in his life, shock. He may have convinced himself Angela was kidding, if not for not only the fact that she appeared genuinely afraid to tell him all this, but also because he knew she'd never try to pull a stunt like this with him in the first place. He'd raised her better than that.
Then again, this was decidedly worse...
...especially when he noticed her stomach.
"Angela..." Travis said, his voice dangerously low. He slowly rose from his seat until he was standing, leaning slightly forward onto his tall desk. "Kennedy Cavan? You're carrying the child of Kennedy Cavan? Do you know nothing about that boy's past? Do you know nothing about his present? He disobeyed a direct order from the Academy, and has been expelled. People like that don't change, Angela. His future will be more of the same. And you want to marry him? My only..." he made a choked sort of laughing noise, "my only daughter, my only family..."
He went on under his breath, muttering about 'daughter' and 'child' and 'criminal' and finally, 'Wingrose', which seemed to trigger something within him.
"No. No. You can have your reprobate husband, Angela. You can have your bastard child, you can have your damned future. I hope you marry him, and take his name. You don't deserve to be associated with my Wingrose, my wife, my angel..."
There was a hellish blue flame burning in his eyes. He didn't seem capable of actually focusing his vision on anything; it was as if he was staring right through Angela and into her soul. He was furious, that much was obvious, but all his fury was pouring out through his words rather than his actions, though the latter may actually have been preferable.
"You," he said, as if only just noticing Angela was there. "You... you disgust me. Get out. GET OUT! I don't ever want to see you again! You are not welcome in my life. You are no daughter of mine!"
Before she could move, or even hope to answer him, he stormed out of the room behind her, swinging the door open hard enough that the handle hit the wall and stuck into it, propping the door open. He stormed down the hall, past the stairs, and into his bedroom, where the distinct sound of things being unceremoniously smashed could be heard.
Preston slowly poked his head around the door to Travis' office. "Angela..." he said softly, all hostility clearly lost in the wake of recent events. "I think... I think it's best you go. I'll call you a taxi." He raised his cell phone and deleted the digits ready to be dialled, '911'. He seemed hesitant about how to approach the situation other than this.
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Post by ✿ngela wingrose on May 12, 2009 12:55:49 GMT -5
Angela was shaking. She was so scared of her father's bad opinion, but she had to fight! She loved Kennedy, and she knew what she was doing was right. This is what you did when you were in love! You stood up for them! You stood up for yourself and your decisions!
So why couldn't she say a word?
Hearing Travis speak of his wife, her mother, was a first for her. Since Wingrose's death, Travis never mentioned her. At least not to her. His piercing, angry gaze hurt her deeply, and she had to look away. Then his accusations found their way from Kennedy's bad reputation to Angela. She covered her mouth with a gasp at his terrible description for her. His words slapped her, and she fumbled to grasp his desk for support. She felt faint.
When he stomped past her and slammed the door open, Angela's emotions finally caught up with her and the sobs started. This was more heartbreaking than any break-up she endured. It hurt more than any physical injury she'd sustained.
Preston's soft voice calling to her from the door made her begin nodding to anything and everything he said, without actually comprehending them. She couldn't stay here. She had to leave. She turned to him as he dialed the numbers for a cab and she trudged over to the normally irrate young man.
Angela slumped against him heavily, exhausted for no other reason than being overrun by her feelings, and she let him awkwardly comfort her. When the cab finally arrived, he helped the girl down the stairs and made sure she left safely. Angela was in no condition to fly; she thanked Preston without much enthusiasm and fell into the back seat. There she curled up into a ball, and when the driver prompted her for an address, she gave the first one that popped into her mind.
It was a long drive, and Angela managed a couple minutes of shut-eye before they arrived. She paid the man for his services, and he unloaded her bags that Preston must've packed without her noticing. She watched the car pull away, and then without so much as fixing her ruined make-up, she trudged up the stairs to the front porch of the once familiar house.
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