Good Enough (Daddy's Little One)
#5 of Good Enough Side Stories
A little something cutesy because why not? And a little something for someone I know reads my material. Love you too, Papa
Good Enough--Side Story--Daddy's Little One
It certainly wasn't the first time that all five of them had gone shopping together and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but it was definitely the first time in quite a while. As always, this was one of six-year-old Damien's favorite places to be, always a hub of activity and intrigue, from the noisy electronics on one side of the store, to the toys in the back and the clothes in the middle. Even the grocery section on the far right side seemed to be thronged with activity and as he entered, his paw in his mother's, Damien felt excited beyond words.
But before they had gone too far, the Blackwell Family's patriarch gave a small whistle, drawing their attentions at once. As they turned, Marcus pulled the cart forward. Damien moved as if to climb in, but his mother pulled him back.
"You're too old for that, Damien," she stated kindly.
Damien looked slightly crestfallen, but kept silent as his father spoke.
"Alright, everyone, let's make this simple," he said, reaching into his pocket. He withdrew his wallet, pulling out three ten-dollar bills. "This is your allowance for this week. You can spend it, save it, or do whatever. But I won't give you any more than this ten. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir!" nine-year-old Nathan, the firstborn, said with a mock salute and a grin that would've looked ridiculous on anyone else. He reached forward, gladly taking his ten and pocketing it.
Eight-year-old Amy took her share more respectfully, almost solemnly and she started to walk off. Damien walked over to his father, eager and grinning but his father looked down with a slightly worried look.
"Can I have mine, Daddy?" Damien asked happily.
"Promise you won't lose it this time?" Marcus asked, firmly though not unkindly.
"I promise!"
"Are you sure?"
"Yep! I'm bigger now! I won't lose it!"
Marcus smiled and handed his youngest child the ten dollars. Then, he looked up and let out another whistle. "Nathan, look after your brother," Marcus ordered. Nathan, who had started to walk off stopped and huffed. "Don't give me attitude, boy."
"Yes, sir," Nathan remarked dejectedly. "Let's go, Tiny."
"And be nice to him," Selene said warningly.
"Okay, okay," Nathan said dismissively. He started to walk off and Damien bounded after him, energetic and smiling.
As usual, Nathan's first stop was at the electronics, eagerly eying the video games he had always wanted. More than once, Damien could've sworn he saw Nathan drooling over the display cases as his eyes raked over the games.
"Which one?" Nathan was murmuring to himself.
"Nate? Can we go look at toys?"
"In a minute, half-pint," Nathan said without paying attention. "Gotta get something first..."
Damien looked into the cases. "Are these more than ten dollars?" he asked, reading the tags. "How can you get them?"
"Because I saved my money," Nathan retorted. "That's what smart guys do."
Damien waited patiently as his brother picked out a game and a sales clerk got it out of the glass case. With the game in hand, Nathan smiled boldly as he turned to look at Damien again.
"Now, what'd you want, midget?"
"Toys!"
"Okay, okay," Nathan said. "Let's go. Make it quick. Wanna get home and start playing."
He led his little brother over to the toys and watched with a mixture of amusement and confusion as the little cub bounced from one shelf to another, as though he had never seen toys before. Damien's eyes lit up with an excitement that seemed to belong to him alone as he raced up and down the aisles. Then he found it: a rather large action figure, almost so large that he couldn't grip it in his small paws. He reached for it on the shelf, though he was too small. With a snort of amusement, Nathan retrieved the toy from where it was, looking over it with a discerning eye.
"I want that one, Nate! Can I get it?!"
Nathan looked at it and was about to hand it to his younger brother when his eyes spied the tag. "Hold it, half-pint," he said. "You only got ten bucks. This is eleven."
"But I..." Damien quickly counted it out in his head and fingers, then pouted. "But I want that one!"
"Don't cry..."
"But I want it!"
"You can't get it."
"But I want it!" Damien insisted with a loud whine and a stomp. "I want it!"
"You can't get it!" Nathan yelled, matching his little brother's volume.
Damien reached for it, but Nathan quickly moved it from the six-year-old's reach, no longer smiling.
"Stop being mean! I want it!"
"You can't have it!" Nathan said as he replaced it on the shelf.
"But I..." And he was suddenly crying. "IT'S NOT FAIR!"
"Uh-oh," said a snide voice. Amy had found them, a shirt draped over her arm. "You made him cry. What'd you do?" At the sight of his sister, Damien ran over to her.
"He's being mean to me!"
"He wants a toy he can't get," Nathan explained. "It's too much money."
He pointed to the toy and Amy took a look. At once, her face softened. "He's right, Damien. It's too much money." Somehow, hearing it from Amy softened the knowledge. He looked up at the toy sadly and then down at the floor. Then, Amy, with very noticeable hesitation, said, "Maybe if you ask Mom really nice, she'll get it for you."
"Really?" At once, that youthful vigor returned and Damien's eyes lit up with renewed fervor.
It was easy enough to find their parents grocery shopping. Without skipping a beat, Damien rushed up to his mother, pulling lightly on her shirt to get her attention. Selene looked down and smiled happily, kneeling slightly.
"You didn't want anything?" she asked in surprise when she noticed a distinct lack of toys or trinkets in his small paws.
"Mommy, I found something but I need"--he dropped his voice low--"a bit more money. Can I...?"
Selene's expression wavered for a brief moment before she looked over at her husband, currently preoccupied at examining the steaks on display. Then, with noticeable hesitation, she reached for her purse and had nearly pulled out the extra money when Marcus's voice interrupted with cold authority.
"Selene, he already has money."
"But he just needs a bit extra," she said. "It can't hurt to--"
"If he needs extra, he can wait until next week when he'll have more money," Marcus remarked. "Whatever it is can wait."
"You're being unreasonable, Marcus. Just a little more won't hurt," she insisted. Then, right after, "He's just six. What's the harm?"
"Selene, don't. It won't kill him to wait."
"And it won't kill you to let him have his toy."
Marcus's expression darkened. "No. I've already given him money for toys or candy or whatever he's looking at. Whatever it is can wait until next time. I don't want our children growing up spoiled." He glared at his wife, then his son with a deep-set scowl on his face. Slightly off to the side, Nathan and Amy watched the exchange as if watching a mildly interesting drama play out before them.
Selene sighed in defeat. "You heard you father," she said. "Can it wait until next time?"
Damien looked down then started to cry. "It's not fair..."
"It is fair," Marcus said with a cold, detached tone. "Life isn't about getting everything you want."
Damien sniffled. "I hate you," he murmured lowly.
"What?"
Then, louder, "I HATE YOU, DADDY!"
And he was running off, not caring to see the rage that played on his father's face. Marcus made a move as if to go after him, but at once, Nathan stepped in front of him. "Dad, no offense, but let me and Amy go get him. Right now, he's kind of..."
"Upset," Amy supplied.
"Yeah. It'll be okay, though," Nathan assured him. "Trust us." And they walked off towards where they knew their little brother would be.
Indeed, there he was, sitting on the floor in that same aisle, looking up at the toy he so desperately wanted. Nathan approached him cautiously, as if afraid his brother might suddenly detonate in a fiery explosion, but Amy reached him first, pulling him into a tight hug.
"You really hurt Daddy's feelings," she said, patting his back.
"But why can't I have it?" he asked. "I just need a little more. But Daddy doesn't want me to have it."
Nathan shifted nervously. "Well... we might be able to help."
Damien looked over at him. "Really?"
"Yeah... I'll have some change leftover once I buy my game," Nathan remarked, pulling the toy down from the shelf. "If I give you that, you'll have enough for your little doll."
"It's an action figure," Amy corrected.
"Whatever. Do you want it or not, pint-size?"
"I want it."
"Then you can have it."
The tension in the car was nearly suffocating. More than once, Damien noticed his father's eyes flitting back at him and glaring with disdain at the toy, still in its box in his son's lap. He had said nothing about him getting the toy when the time had come to pay for it, but his disapproval was just as clear nonetheless and, despite Selene's best attempts to clear the tension, it failed dramatically.
When they arrived home, Marcus was the first out of the car and Damien had wasted no time getting out himself, rushing to his room to unpack his new toy. He had only just gotten it fully out of the box when his mother appeared in his doorway, looking sullen, as though she had just been insulted.
"Damien, I'm very upset with you," she said simply.
He turned to look at her, unsure of how to respond. "Why?"
"You need to apologize to your father," she explained. "You don't talk that way to an adult. I know you know better than that."
"But he wouldn't let me--"
"And don't talk back," she said in such a severe tone that it seemed at odds with her very personality. "Damien, you really hurt your father's feelings. How would you like it if he said he hated you?"
For a brief moment, the scene played itself in Damien's mind. His father, glaring down at him, yelling those same words that had come out of his mouth mere hours ago... His chest felt strangely tight and a thick ball seemed to appear in his throat.
"I didn't mean it..."
"I know you didn't, but you need to go say you're sorry."
"Daddy?"
Damien stepped into the kitchen where his father was watching a football game on a small TV on the counter, having just put the night's dinner (two pizzas: a veggie and pepperoni) in the oven. A silver can was in his paws and Damien could recognize the smell of that weird drink that adults liked that he wasn't allowed to drink.
"Daddy?"
Still no response. Damien walked up to his father, tugging gently on the leg of his pants. Marcus looked down briefly before returning his attention to the game on the screen.
"What?" he asked savagely.
"I'm sorry," Damien managed to say, though any conviction the words might've had seemed to be overshadowed by a sudden rush of fear that was making his blood run cold.
"Speak up."
"I'm sorry..." The words came out somehow quieter than before, perhaps because Damien couldn't bring himself to look up anymore. He had started to step backward, but the sudden silence had made him stop. His father had turned off the TV and was looking at him.
"Look at me, Damien," Marcus ordered.
Damien, with effort, looked up.
"I understand what you're trying to say and do," Marcus explained, "but sometimes saying sorry isn't enough. You really hurt me. And you need to learn that there are consequences to the things you do and say."
"But--"
"Go to your room and don't come out until dinner's ready."
"But--"
"Now."
Damien recognized the dismissal, but somehow the calm, reserved tone seemed even worse than if his father would've yelled. He wanted his father to yell, to scream, break something. Anything was better than this calm disappointment. Yet even still, Damien walked out, chest tight and heart hurting.
"What'd you say to him?" Selene asked as she sat in bed, looking toward the bathroom where her husband was brushing his teeth. She heard him spit and awaited an answer.
"To who?"
"Damien. He hasn't said a word since I spoke to him."
"Good," Marcus remarked, reentering the bedroom. "Maybe this'll do him some good. He needs to learn from what he did."
"What did you say to him?"
"Nothing that didn't need to be said."
"And all this over a little toy?" she scoffed.
"Selene--" He reached for his wife, but she slapped his paw away.
"Don't touch me," she snapped. "I'm so furious with you that I don't even want to be in this bed right now. He's just six and you're being so cruel to him."
"I'm treating him exactly as I would treat Amy or Nate."
"But he's not Amy or Nate. Amy would brush off any insult or hurt," Selene explained. "Nate doesn't care what anyone thinks. But Damien has skin like paper. Words hurt him more deeply than anything else you can do." She sighed heavily. "I know him better than you do. He wants to apologize. He wants to make up with you. Why won't you let him?"
He had no immediate answer.
"You better fix this," she said darkly, "before he goes back to school Monday, you hear?"
"Yes, dear."
"If you don't, I swear I'll leave and never come back."
He scanned her face, her eyes, for any of the telltale signs of a bluff. He couldn't find them.
"I promise I will."
A loud scream tore through the house, followed by heavy sobbing. At once, Marcus had jumped out of bed, tore down the hallway and into his son's bedroom, flicking on the light on his way to the bed. Within seconds, the rest of the family was at the door, though he paid them no mind.
"Damien," he said urgently, trying to contain himself. "Damien!"
He shook his son before putting his fingers to his lips, letting out a whistle. At once, Damien's eyes snapped open and he saw his father, but his bleary, watery eyes were far from focused as he threw himself into his father's arms.
"Nate... Where's Daddy?"
A mixture of confusion and hurt played through Marcus though he quickly suppressed the feelings. "Damien, I'm here."
The deeper, stronger voice, though weakened with worry, brought Damien's consciousness fully back to reality as he leaned backward. Yes, that was his father's face, his father's azure eyes that reminded him so much of his own.
"Daddy... I'm sorry," Damien said through strained sobs and sniffles. "I really didn't mean it. I--"
"It's okay, it's okay," Marcus said, pulling his son closer.
"But I--"
"It's alright," Marcus assured him. "Shh, just breathe. It's okay, I'm here..."
"Okay, show's over," Selene remarked to her eldest offspring. "Back to bed, you two."
"But--" Nathan started.
"Bed," she repeated calmly. They trekked off and Selene spared a grin to her husband and youngest before going back to bed herself.
"Daddy, I don't hate you," Damien said. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."
"It's okay. I love you too, Damien," Marcus said. "I'm sorry I was mean to you earlier."
His eyes flicked towards a box on the floor and, beside it, that same toy. Had Damien even played with it? It looked as though it had only been taken out of the box, not touched at all.
"Are you still mad at me?"
"No. I'm not mad," Marcus said.
"Do you hate me?"
Marcus pulled back and looked his son in the eye. "Damien, no matter what happens, who you become, what you do, or whatever anyone says, I could never hate your brother, your sister or you. I love you more than anything in this world."
"Really?"
"Really. And no matter what happens, I'll always love you, my little one..."
Eighteen-year-old Damien sighed heavily as he relaxed on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. The familiar poster of Malachite looked back down at him but somehow, the poster seemed... sad, now that Malachite was officially disbanded. Tomorrow, he'd be on his way to college and now more than ever, the reality was setting in.
But...
He sighed heavily. Was he really ready for college? He remembered his grades, the comments his teachers had made, his own slip-ups and faults that could've cost him that diploma that he'd worked so hard for. And his father was right; he was immature. Very much so compared to Amy. But then again, Amy seemed to be something refined and immaculate, incapable of outbursts or petty jealousies and the like.
He chortled. He knew she wasn't perfect and the façade had cracked a long time ago. But he would let her pretend to be; it was funny to see her get annoyed with Nathan's childish antics just as it was fun to watch her get even.
But...
He sat upright, frowning sadly. He knew his mother would support him. She had always been wholeheartedly given him her support and love; she had even been at more shows than the rest of his family. Not hard considering that Amy was always out and Nathan was always playing sports somewhere.
Meanwhile his father was... distant at best. Damien sighed. At for the first time in years, a question ran through his mind: Does he even...?
He stopped himself as his eyes found a toy on his shelf. The toy had never been played with now that he truly thought on it, bought twelve years ago after a fit, some yells and words he wished he could take back. But he had also heard words he would never forget...
"...I'll always love you, my little one..."
Yes, he could do this. He could face this challenge and succeed. And more than that, he'd make his father proud in doing so. No, not make him proud--Damien had a feeling his father was already proud. He'd make him even prouder.