Post by Cain Jiovanni on Oct 20, 2006 20:55:57 GMT -5
Ooc; Okay...so I worked on this a little every night...when I was too freakin' tired to do anything else. I hope y'all like it...it's a little sappy but hey, I don't do fics remember?
Cain sighed, scratching his hand as he flipped the last steak on the grill and returned to his former seat. It seemed odd, to sit at the head of the table, to occupy the chair his father had for so many years. He sighed again, closing his eyes as he propped his head up on the hand that was resting on the side of the glass patio table.
When he opened his eyes he smiled. Everything had changed, in three and a half years, his entire life had taken a turn he’s never seen coming. Or perhaps he’d seen it and chosen to ignore it for as long as he could, chosen to procrastinate as long as he could. He hadn’t wanted to grow up, and he most definitely hadn’t wanted change. Not at all.
He glanced to the open glass doors leading into the kitchen, watching the slender blonde woman inside frost a cake with one hand, while holding a cordless phone in the other, chatting away. She’d gotten the white icing on the front of her apron, and it seemed the strawberries she’d reserved for the top of the cake were too present down the front of the white and green garment. He couldn’t help but grin.
Rose Karter, his best friend. Four or five years ago he’d never have predicted she’d be standing in the kitchen of Jiovanni Manor, making dessert, the diamonds set in gold on her hand sparkling as they caught the sun’s light. He’d never dreamed he’d be married at twenty, and be happy about it. He’d never dreamed he’d be living each day with the love of his life.
He’d given up his band for Rose and his father, even though Rose never asked him too. He’d done it anyway; he’d wanted to start married life off right. Not starting fights over never being home or spending countless dollars on drinks at whatever place they happened to be playing. He was going to be different if it killed him.
As for his father, he’d spent so long running from him that it hurt when the time came for Cain to be there. His father had suffered a stroke, not two months after Cain and Tala’s mother passed away from a car accident. Cain had swallowed his pride for once. Something in Cain had changed when Rose’s voice came over his cell phone saying he needed to be at the hospital as soon as he could be. It had scared him to know he might lose his other parent, the only one he had left.
But Rose had been there for him, helping read the forms for Abel’s wellbeing when Cain was too tired to see what they said, or when he got so mad he started to yell at the nurses. Which happened quite often, he was a firm believer that health care providers didn’t know jack shit about helping sick people.
He grinned looking out into the back yard, now the older Jiovanni was sitting in a wheelchair, brushing out a Barbie doll’s hair with a little pink brush, his little blonde haired granddaughter sitting on his lap. She had a smile on that was almost to big for her face.
“Papaw, you gotta pull the brush down. Like this, Papaw,” Wika was pulling Abel’s hand in a downward motion. “Or her hair’ll get all ratty like mine when I wake up.” Cain shook his head when his father laughed. Wika’s curly hair bounced as she put her little pink tennis shoes up on Abel’s other leg, apparently brushing a doll’s hair involved one’s whole body.
“Okay, little Rose, I’ll do it right.” Was the response, as Abel smiled fondly at his only grandchild. The only thing was, Abel’s hands didn’t work so well anymore, so his three year old granddaughter still had to help. Wika’s hazel eyes looked up to see Cain watching them, “Look Papaw, Daddy’s done with the food. I’ll be right back! Okay?” The little girl hoped from her grandfather’s lap, only to turn and lay the plastic doll back on his legs. “Watch her ‘til I back, okays?” A moment later Wika was running full speed for Cain.
“Daddy! Daddy! Guess what! Guess what Daddy!”
“What, honey?” He laughed as his daughter dove into his arms, and clambered up onto his lap to sit, feet dangling off each side of Cain.
“Papaw is learning how to use a brush! Isn’t that great, Daddy? Maybe Mommy won’t have to brush his or mine hair every day now, huh?” Cain looked at her a moment. She was too smart for her age, even if she did have really bad grammer. He was pretty sure he had tears in his eyes. “Yeah, maybe baby, now why don’t you go see if Papaw needs anymore help? Daddy has to finish with the grill.” “Okays, Daddy.” The little girl kissed Cain’s cheek, before dashing back off to her grandfather with a grin identical to that of her father.
Cain was glad Wika had gotten Rose’s caring nature. He’d never been like that as a child. He’d been possessive but never caring. Not until high school, when his out look on Rose had gone from best friend to lover. Even then sometimes the drinking nipped that away. He’d always thought he had it so bad, Abel had never been happy with him. No matter what he’d done it had never been good enough.
He smiled, watching as Wika hopped back onto Abel’s lap, clapping when Abel used the brush right without help.
“You okay, Cainy?” Cain looked up to see the blue eyes of his wife. She was all smiles. Cain sighed, grinning back at her. She was beautiful, and she was completely his.
“Yeah, I’m better than okay,” he said, pulling her down into his lap, kissing her softly. She pointed toward Abel and Wika. “What are they doing?”
“She’s teaching him how to brush hair so you don’t have to brush his and hers,” Cain answered simply. “And it’s working.” Rose smiled, sighing as he laid her head down on Cain’s shoulder. “Wow.” Was the only thing she said, it was then that Cain realized something.
He didn’t have to be afraid of changes. They happened every single day. Some for better, some for worse. You had to take what was given to you. He’d lost his mother, only to gain his wife. He’d almost lost his father, only to gain his daughter. His daughter had taught him a lesson no one else could, and she’d finally proved Cain could do something right. Wika had ultimately been the bridge between father and son.
Even if all the bad things Cain had done in the past twenty-four years, he still learned from them. But the final lesson had been one hard to learn. From the mouth of a three year old girl and the illness of a sixty five year old man.
Cain learned one thing; he was blessed.
When he opened his eyes he smiled. Everything had changed, in three and a half years, his entire life had taken a turn he’s never seen coming. Or perhaps he’d seen it and chosen to ignore it for as long as he could, chosen to procrastinate as long as he could. He hadn’t wanted to grow up, and he most definitely hadn’t wanted change. Not at all.
He glanced to the open glass doors leading into the kitchen, watching the slender blonde woman inside frost a cake with one hand, while holding a cordless phone in the other, chatting away. She’d gotten the white icing on the front of her apron, and it seemed the strawberries she’d reserved for the top of the cake were too present down the front of the white and green garment. He couldn’t help but grin.
Rose Karter, his best friend. Four or five years ago he’d never have predicted she’d be standing in the kitchen of Jiovanni Manor, making dessert, the diamonds set in gold on her hand sparkling as they caught the sun’s light. He’d never dreamed he’d be married at twenty, and be happy about it. He’d never dreamed he’d be living each day with the love of his life.
He’d given up his band for Rose and his father, even though Rose never asked him too. He’d done it anyway; he’d wanted to start married life off right. Not starting fights over never being home or spending countless dollars on drinks at whatever place they happened to be playing. He was going to be different if it killed him.
As for his father, he’d spent so long running from him that it hurt when the time came for Cain to be there. His father had suffered a stroke, not two months after Cain and Tala’s mother passed away from a car accident. Cain had swallowed his pride for once. Something in Cain had changed when Rose’s voice came over his cell phone saying he needed to be at the hospital as soon as he could be. It had scared him to know he might lose his other parent, the only one he had left.
But Rose had been there for him, helping read the forms for Abel’s wellbeing when Cain was too tired to see what they said, or when he got so mad he started to yell at the nurses. Which happened quite often, he was a firm believer that health care providers didn’t know jack shit about helping sick people.
He grinned looking out into the back yard, now the older Jiovanni was sitting in a wheelchair, brushing out a Barbie doll’s hair with a little pink brush, his little blonde haired granddaughter sitting on his lap. She had a smile on that was almost to big for her face.
“Papaw, you gotta pull the brush down. Like this, Papaw,” Wika was pulling Abel’s hand in a downward motion. “Or her hair’ll get all ratty like mine when I wake up.” Cain shook his head when his father laughed. Wika’s curly hair bounced as she put her little pink tennis shoes up on Abel’s other leg, apparently brushing a doll’s hair involved one’s whole body.
“Okay, little Rose, I’ll do it right.” Was the response, as Abel smiled fondly at his only grandchild. The only thing was, Abel’s hands didn’t work so well anymore, so his three year old granddaughter still had to help. Wika’s hazel eyes looked up to see Cain watching them, “Look Papaw, Daddy’s done with the food. I’ll be right back! Okay?” The little girl hoped from her grandfather’s lap, only to turn and lay the plastic doll back on his legs. “Watch her ‘til I back, okays?” A moment later Wika was running full speed for Cain.
“Daddy! Daddy! Guess what! Guess what Daddy!”
“What, honey?” He laughed as his daughter dove into his arms, and clambered up onto his lap to sit, feet dangling off each side of Cain.
“Papaw is learning how to use a brush! Isn’t that great, Daddy? Maybe Mommy won’t have to brush his or mine hair every day now, huh?” Cain looked at her a moment. She was too smart for her age, even if she did have really bad grammer. He was pretty sure he had tears in his eyes. “Yeah, maybe baby, now why don’t you go see if Papaw needs anymore help? Daddy has to finish with the grill.” “Okays, Daddy.” The little girl kissed Cain’s cheek, before dashing back off to her grandfather with a grin identical to that of her father.
Cain was glad Wika had gotten Rose’s caring nature. He’d never been like that as a child. He’d been possessive but never caring. Not until high school, when his out look on Rose had gone from best friend to lover. Even then sometimes the drinking nipped that away. He’d always thought he had it so bad, Abel had never been happy with him. No matter what he’d done it had never been good enough.
He smiled, watching as Wika hopped back onto Abel’s lap, clapping when Abel used the brush right without help.
“You okay, Cainy?” Cain looked up to see the blue eyes of his wife. She was all smiles. Cain sighed, grinning back at her. She was beautiful, and she was completely his.
“Yeah, I’m better than okay,” he said, pulling her down into his lap, kissing her softly. She pointed toward Abel and Wika. “What are they doing?”
“She’s teaching him how to brush hair so you don’t have to brush his and hers,” Cain answered simply. “And it’s working.” Rose smiled, sighing as he laid her head down on Cain’s shoulder. “Wow.” Was the only thing she said, it was then that Cain realized something.
He didn’t have to be afraid of changes. They happened every single day. Some for better, some for worse. You had to take what was given to you. He’d lost his mother, only to gain his wife. He’d almost lost his father, only to gain his daughter. His daughter had taught him a lesson no one else could, and she’d finally proved Cain could do something right. Wika had ultimately been the bridge between father and son.
Even if all the bad things Cain had done in the past twenty-four years, he still learned from them. But the final lesson had been one hard to learn. From the mouth of a three year old girl and the illness of a sixty five year old man.
Cain learned one thing; he was blessed.
