Warning: if you put a Mentos in soda it will explode
"It’s important that we come to visit every year, my love,” Amada gripped a three year old Adriana tightly in her arms as she stared at the grave marker in front of her. “Every year. You understand?”
As a three year old, Adriana, of course, didn’t understand. How could she? It was an impossible situation for such a young mind to grasp; not just the concept of death, but the death of a parent? Especially a parent as genuinely wonderful, hardworking, and attentive as Adriana’s father had been.
Still, when her mother asked if she understood, Adriana nodded.
“I don’t even understand why we have to be here,” Adriana huffed loudly, face twisted into a God awful pout as her arms crossed over her chest. “This is so dumb.”
Like any teenager, especially a teenager with a social life as jam packed as Adriana’s, taking time away to fly to London to deliver flowers to a gravestone wasn’t exactly on her list of priorities. And definitely not when it happened to fall on what was supposed to be the very first weekend of summer vacation.
She and Lara had been in the midst of planning when Amada had overheard their conversation and reminded Adriana of her prior engagement.
“Adriana Leya Amaro,” the full name, the dreaded fucking full name, “if you do not stop acting like a spoiled, whining brat, you won’t have to worry about a summer vacation because you won’t have one.”
Hearing the tone of her mother’s voice without the threat of losing her summer plans would have been enough, but the thought of spending three months locked inside while her friends were out enjoying themselves forced the tiny blonde to put her attitude away.
Pulling up to the cemetery, the shift in atmosphere was immediate, Amada thanking the driver before picking up the bouquet of flowers she had brought before ushering Adriana out of the car. The walk to her father’s grave was familiar, one the pair had taken year, after year, after year. Adriana watched in silence as her mother placed the flowers in front of the grave, clearly trying to hold back to tears as she whispered a prayer quietly under her breath.
“Do you have anything to say?” Amada turned to look at her only daughter, urging her forward. Adriana stepped up, staring down at her father’s grave as she tried to think of anything to say.
What was she supposed to do? Pour her heart out? Cry? Say nothing?
“Um,” Adriana paused, looking up at her mother before her gaze shifted back down towards the ground. “Uh, Happy Father’s Day.”
“I can’t hear you, Ma, hold on,” Adriana pressed her phone as close to her ear as she could, weaving through the back dressing room at Vixen towards the private bathroom reserved only for the dancers. “Alright, I’m sorry, I can hear now. What did you say?”
“Where are you, Adriana?” Amada shouted, loud enough that Adriana had to yank the phone away from her ear. “You know how important today is.”
“Mom, I told you I had to work,” Despite being almost twenty-three years old, when it came to her mother, Adriana would always be a little girl. “There was nothing I could do.”
Technically, there was something Adriana could have done. Cecelia had been more than willing to give the Vixen time off, especially after Adriana had explained why.
“Don’t you dare, Adriana,” her mother’s voice came through the speaker again, while her volume may have been lower, the hurt in her voice radiated. “Don’t you dare lie to me. Not ever, but especially not today.”
“Not another word, Adriana,” this time Amada shouted, the pain behind her words felt like a knife to the dancer’s chest, suddenly wishing she could turn back time and accept Cecelia’s offer for the days off. “We’ll talk when I’m back in Porto Velho. I have never been more disappointed in you and your father would be, too.”
It was two grave markers now.
Like the promises they had made to each other on their wedding day, Jair and Amada Amaro would spend their lives, and whatever eternal afterlife was waiting for them, together.
“I remember you made me promise that I would visit every year,” the former Vixen’s gaze fell on her mother’s plot, noting the giant arrangement of flowers that were planted around it. “I know I didn’t keep my promise, but I will this time.”
It had been years since the last time Adriana had been to visit her father’s grave. The yearly tradition, despite Amara continuing it, had been left by the wayside by the former Vixen. It was after the first year Adriana missed that Amara had stopped asking her to come, something the dancer hadn’t realized she should have been bothered by until now.
“I promise, every year, I’ll be here,” she swiped at the tears that flowed down her cheeks, bending down to place the new bouquet in front of her father’s gravestone, the same way her mother had for so many years. “I’m so sorry I missed all those years. I am so, so sorry.”
After everything that had happened since the start of the new year, Adriana had done her best to remain as far away from any kind of attention or spotlight, which would have been a foreign fucking concept a year ago. Too much had happened, too much for Adriana to not at least try and be better. To try and be the person her parents had wanted her to be.
“Happy Father’s Day, dad. I love you.”
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