The Truth Part 2

https://www.citrusbocc.com
/pubworks/swm/recycling
/christmas-
tree.htm

          Christmas was fun. We ate all the traditional foods, ham, lasagna, cannolis, christmas tree shaped brownies, and an ice cream cake in the shape of a yule log. I tried as hard as I could to not think about my father for the rest of the night, and I did pretty well. I knew that if I showed any hints of sadness, Paige would immediately be able to tell and I didn't want to ruin her favorite holiday, or mine for that matter.
          When we got home around ten, Paige wanted to play with her new doll. She always stayed up as late as she could over winter break because she was never allowed to stay up past eight on a school night. My mom came in the living room and kissed us both goodnight. Once my mom was in her room, Paige started to open the box to her new American Girl doll.
          "Mia," Paige said. "Will we ever see Daddy again? It's been so long."
          How on earth do you explain this to a nine year old. 

          "I don't know Paige, but probably not for a very long time. We don't  need him with us, okay? We have Noah and Aidan, Aunt Marie and Uncle Daniel. And of course we have mommy."                         
          This was so heartbreaking to tell her. She obviously doesn't know the story of him leaving. We just told her that "daddy had to move away for work and we won't be seeing him for many years."
          "Come on, lets play with your new toy."
          "I didn't really wanna play, I just wanted to talk to you about daddy."
          What I said next was awful, but I had to break her habit. Daddy is a person who loves you, plays with you, and does anything for you. Father is someone who never made sacrifices for his kids, never bothered to show up, or apologized for anything they did.
          "Instead of calling him daddy, let's call him father. It's a better name for him," I smiled.

http://clipart-library.com/clipart/1736280.htm

          "Fader," she had said because even at the age of nine, she still couldn't pronounce a "th" sound.       
          He once was our dad, but those times seem like they were a whole life time ago, even though it was only six years.

          I pulled Paige into my arms and held her there for a while. We were closer than most siblings because we've been through everything together, but also because she's so smart. She may be nine years younger than me, but I can talk to her about most things and feel comforted. When I am in my room crying and she hears me, she comes running in, doesn't say a word, then embraces me in her little arms and holds me.
         The next morning, I woke up on the floor next to the lit up Christmas tree with a sleeping Paige in my arms. I figured we fell asleep last night while I was still holding her. I tried to lay still and not wake her, but her weightless body managed to make my arm fall asleep. She woke up and looked me straight in the eyes.     
        "Good morning sweetheart," I whispered. "I'll go make us some chocolate chip pancakes." She smiled and I picked her up, put her on the couch, and gave her her favorite blanket. She's so precious. 
          I mixed the ingredients together and put spoonfuls of batter on the pan.

https://www.lds.org/ensign
/2017/10/the-
gifts-of-a-broken-heart?lang=eng

          I couldn't wait any longer, I had to look. I was so distracted last night I didn't have time to look my father up. I got my phone and opened Facebook. I typed in William Christopher then stopped before typing Keany. Was I ready for this? To discover why my family wasn't good enough? I had to be, I reassured myself. Very slowly I typed. K-e-a-n-y. Before pressing search, I flipped the pancakes trying to stall because I was absolutely terrified for what I would find. For all I knew, he might have deleted his account in fear of this moment, but when he was still with us, he was in love with Facebook. Always posting pictures of Paige and I, saying we were his world. Seems to me that he didn't mind destroying it.
          I took a deep breath and pressed search. The first account that showed up was definitely him. His profile picture was a selfie of him at some beach. He was still that same smiling face that I remember. Back then if I were to have seen this smile, it would've instantly lifted my spirits, but now it only brought me pain. Nervously with trembling hands, I clicked on his account. I felt my stomach drop, I wanted to throw up. There he was. His most recent post a picture of him on the same beach as his profile picture, except this time, he's not alone.