The daughter was expected at about 8 o'clock. He showered as something stewed on the stove. He shaved and put on fresh clothes. He came back to the kitchen and as he cooked, he mentally went over the discussion with the counsellors about the first meeting. They had kindly and thoughtfully pointed out that youngsters might not be able to handle displays of intense emotion, especially by adults.The daughter would perhaps not understand his feelings as a parent until she herself become one and encountered the same situation. While the counsellors did not try to tell him how to be, they put the thought into his head so that he would find a balance himself. They pointed out that they had counselled the daughter as well and prepared her for the meeting.
He decided to focus just on his feelings and thoughts for his daughter as best as he could and try to keep so many other thoughts and emotions that also arose, at bay. The counsellors suggested that he not try to ignore the feelings of anger, resentment at his fate, at his ex and the pain of all the time lost that would come up. They suggested he take time to let them wash over him, let his feelings out, a little while before he came face to face with this daughter.
As he worked on breakfast and setting up the table, he was not his usual self - humming or singing along. He was quiet that day. He had to sometimes sit down, let the tears of pent up anger and grievance flow once again. He was angry at his fate, but had the sense to thank it for what was to come. He knew there were other fathers in this world who were not as fortunate as he was.
He composed himself, wiped his face and finished setting up the table. He put on the kettle to warm up the water for tea and coffee. He poured out the juice and put a lid on the glass at his daughter's place at the dining table. He then went out to the living room to look out the front windows with the cup of coffee. He could see past the driveway onto the street and a side street ahead from where he expected the counsellor's car to drive up. There was some morning traffic.
Up ahead, a few blocks away, the daughter was sitting next to the counsellor as she drove. The girl was looking out the window. She too was feeling a bit numb and strange after having looked forward to this for so long. She seemed to want the car to go as slow as possible to give her time to compose herself and prepare for this meeting. In her vague memory, her father was a close loved one, but now in reality she felt she was meeting a stranger inside whom she hoped to find her father again. She dabbed at her eyes with tissues and adjusted her understated lipstick that had smudged a bit, looking at the vanity mirror.
"We will be there soon, dear. How are you doing?" asked the counsellor gently.
"I am very nervous. I so much want to meet him, but I don't know why I feel scared and not ready right now. I know there is no perfect time. I have to do it," said the girl.
"Yes, that is right. You have to do it sometime and get over the first step. It will be easier after that."
The girl remembered the talk that she had had with the counsellors preparing her for the meeting. They had reminded her gently and tactfully that adults are also just like children when it comes to feelings and there are moments in life when they cannot always be in perfect control and express them elegantly. Sometimes they let it all out and it might seem odd, while we accept such with little children easily. They suggested she not be intimidated or upset with her father if such were to happen, but just to remember that he loved her very much and that he was getting over many deep hurts in life. At once she had said that she wanted to comfort him as he had comforted her in her faint memories. The counsellors knew then that she was ready for this and would be alright.
As they turned a corner and saw the father's house a little way ahead, the counsellor pointed it out.
"We'll be there in a minute," she added.
"Can you pull over and stop for a minute, please?" said the daughter, her voice sounding a bit breathless.
"Sure, dear!"
As the car stopped, the girl rolled down the window. Took some deep, slow breaths and gazed long and hard at the house, the shaded windows and the driveway and the shut front door. She wondered if her father was looking out of the windows at that very moment, waiting for her. He was. He had looked at cars approaching and when he saw his one pull over and stop, he thought it might not be the one. His eyes tracked other cars passing.
Suddenly, he realised that a car was pulling into his driveway. He froze. He heart started to beat really fast. His mouth went dry. He took a sip from his cup. The front door was already unlocked and ready to be opened. He had kept it shut. He wanted to get a look at his daughter as she walked up to the door.
The car stopped. He could see two figures faintly behind the reflective glare of the windshield. The counsellor got out after a few seconds, holding her handbag. She shut her door and went over to the rear. Shortly afterwards the passenger door opened and his daughter tumbled out. He barely got to see the side of her face with her long straight black hair with a blond streak when she turned and almost ran to the rear of the car. He saw a flash of denim jeans and a pale yellow shirt top. She was a slim, petite figure.
Soon the counsellor emerged from behind the car and following her came his daughter pulling a wheeled suitcase. She walked slowly, hidden partly behind the figure of the counsellor, looking down, her hair covering her face like a waterfall. She held one hand with a tissue to her face. As they approached the door, he watched his daughter walk with hesitation in her steps. He waited for the knock.
The counsellor turned around at the door and said,"Let me get the suitcase, you go ahead and knock."
She went behind the girl and took hold of the luggage. The young girl finally walked up to the door, stood straight and tall. She looked up at the door for a few seconds, staring intently at the door.
He looked through the corner of the thick patterned curtains at the window right next to the front door. She was so close to him and yet unaware of him. All his thoughts and feelings were suspended as he observed his daughter's figure with great attention and curiosity. He still could not see her face clearly.
The girl breathed in deeply and slowly out.
And then he heard the "Knock, Knock" of the door.
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