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|Series:||The Good Ones|
|Release date:||June 3, 2013|
|Previous chapter:||My Girl|
(In the Present, from Contessa's POV)
Contessa VanPyre walked through the door. She was tall, beautiful. She was an adult now, a big girl. Her father was an older man, and she loved spending every afternoon with him, watching him write down everything that he could remember about his past life.
"Hey dad," she said, her strong voice echoing off of the walls. They were in a house far away from the city, one that her father had built himself. He was a good-hearted man. He had lots of friends, not too many enemies. His best friend was still around, but they rarely talked. Pierce spent too much time compiling everything in his little book. He wanted to get it published.
"Ah, Tessa!" she heard her father yell with enthusiasm and obvious delight. Her father cherished the moments that she spent with him. All of his family was gone except for her and one other; he had collapsed after Brigit's death and Contessa was the only one to comfort him. She loved his nickname for her.
"I missed you, Daddy," she said, wrapping her arms around her father as he pushed himself up from the chair. He was wobbly at times, and the last time he fell he had a quick recovery, but Contessa didn't want to risk it again. A fall could kill her father, especially with his heart problems. "Where are you with your book?"
Pierce squeezed her hand playfully. "When you were born." She felt her father loosen up a little. She drew her face closer to his.
"Aww Daddy," she said. "I remember back when I was a little girl. I remember tire swings, and starry nights, and watching the sunset, the sunrise before we had to go inside. I remember so much."
Pierce turned to his daughter. His pale blue eyes, faded over the years, were watery. "Do you remember your mother, Contessa?"
Contessa smiled sweetly at her father. "Of course Daddy. How could I forget her?"
Pierce looked into her eyes. "I hope you never do, Tessa. Why don't you pull up a chair?"
"What for, Dad?" Contessa was a bit confused.
"What do you say, you and me write the book together?" All evidence of tears were gone from his eyes, instead there was a mischievous light in them, dancing in the blue irises that shone ever so brightly, and on his lips a sly grin. "You seem to remember things so well from your childhood. And you know, I'm an old man Tessa. My memory just might be failing me. I could certainly use another brain to help me recollect."
"I'm not sure dad," she said playfully. "Are you sure I won't be a bother? I mean, I might still cry like I did back when I was still an infant. And we all remember those days, don't we?"
As the sky outside began to dim, a playful flame sparked from Pierce's hand. It lit the candles that he had set on his desk. Seeming content with his work, the flame went out. He had mastered it over the years, though Contessa still found it risky to use fire around valuable documents, papers, photographs and memories.
Pierce let out a deep laugh. "Oh, I can deal with you. So, will you reminisce with me? I have to start working out a little more, so why don't you come over on the weekends from now on to work with me? Though of course you can still come over whenever your little heart desires.
Contessa grasped her father's hand. "I'm not that little anymore dad, am I?"