I went to school this morning just like I do every morning. I was in second period English when an office aide came to pull me from class, bring your stuff she tells me you're going home. A little nervous but not too worried about it I pack up my books and notes and follow her back to the office. Its Friday so I figure maybe my mom wants to get a head start to wherever Phil is playing this weekend. My stepdad, but only dad I've ever really known, is a baseball player for the Houston Astros and whenever he plays weekends within driving distance we usually drive to watch him play.
But when I get to the office its Phil and not my mom and the look on his face tells me something is seriously wrong. He signs me out not saying anything and in silence we walk to the car.
"Bella, your mom, she was driving home, needed snacks I think for the weekend trip, I was going to leave after she got back and then you two were going to head out as soon as you got home. She passes out while driving, they don't know why but she drove right into traffic. Died right away. No pain. So sorry Bella." He's not really making sense and he's crying and then it sinks in. Did he just say my mom is dead? No way, this isn't happening.
We get home and I walk to my mom's room expecting her to be there and expecting to tell her what Phil said and her to get pissed off at him because what kind of horrible person does such a mean thing? But she's not there and I turn around and he's standing there in the doorway like he knows what I'm thinking. I know deep down that he's not the kind of horrible person and that she really is dead.
"I'm so sorry Bella." He says and I let him hold me while I cry.
The next few days are spent in a daze of crying and sleeping and funeral arrangements and then finally the funeral.
Phil is there for me every step of the way as well as his parents and his team mates and all of our friends. My mom didn't have any family as her parents died soon after I was born.
A few days after the funeral the conversation I dread the most finally comes up.
"I'll do whatever you want me to do Bella. I can quit the team; I can find a local coaching job I'm sure. Or you can travel with us and homeschool. Or if you really want we can look for your real father." He says the last part so sad and I tell him that's the last thing I want. My father never wanted anything to do with me.
"You're my real father Phil. And I would like to travel with and homeschool. We already lost her we don't need to lose anything more. The team means a lot to both of us." He agrees and then asks if I would be OK selling the house and getting an apartment since we won't be here much. I tell him that's fine; I didn't really want to stay in the house anyways. This house screams my mom and makes it impossible to forget her even for a minute.
The next day we find a nice 2 bedroom apartment and the day after that we start packing. Phil asks me to go through my mom and his closet to see if there is anything of hers I would like to keep. We are both pretty simple when it comes to stuff, the less the better. My mom was the complete opposite. Hoarder is a good word. So we decided together that most of her stuff would go to the trash or goodwill because even though we will always love her and never forget her stuff is still just stuff.
I'm going through her clothes and picking a few of her favorite dresses to keep and when I notice a box on her shelf that says to Bella, on your 18th Birthday. I love you and I'm sorry. I lay the dresses on the bed and pull it down. I open it quickly and let out a loud gasp as I realize what it is. Letters and gifts and cards from my dad, my real dad, the one she told me all my life wanted nothing to do with me. They started at 2 which is when he walked out on us and the most recent was just from my last birthday, my 15th. I started opening and reading them from the beginning. None of them sounded like he didn't want me and I'm confused and angry.
Phil walks in and I'm so into the letters that I don't even notice him pick one up and start reading but then I hear him say shit and I look at him.
"Did you know?" I ask him tears filling my eyes.
"No I had no idea." I believe him because he looks how I feel. Confused and so angry.
"Should I call him?" I ask him and he tells me he can't make that decision for me. If I call him there is a good chance he will want me to live with him.
"Will you fight for me if it comes to that?" I ask him and he says yes if I want him too.
So I decide to call him and the next thing I know Phil and I are on a plane headed to Forks, Washington to meet him.
I feel so guilty because she's dead but I really hate my mom.
A/N OK I went a little bit crazy writing since over Christmas break without internet so I have the start of 4 different stories. I am going to post the first chapter of each and then write and update according to interest.