Psycher Chronicles: Chapter 106 When to Write Off Your Family

<<<<Author's Note: I updated the Ending, hope you enjoy.>>>>

Chapter 106

When to Write Off Your Family

(Phil Tulley)

“Oh, good, you are back,” Phil Tulley cried out excitedly from the living room as the College Freshmen all came in with their assorted bags and items that they would need to have another successful semester at school.

“Hello,” Misha called out and then walked over to give her grandfather a quick hug and peck on the cheek as was customary greeting for a beloved elder.

“Hello, Mr. Tulley,” Darcy cried out as she began pulling her first of many suitcases upstairs to be packed away for the new semester.

With her formal greetings done and primary obligations to social norms accepted, Misha too grabbed her suitcases and began carrying them upstairs, her backpack with her new computer settled snugly on her back.

The third girl, Jasmine just waited by the doorway, her eyes anxiously tracking the departure of the other two. Then waiting until both Darcy and Misha were just at the top of the steps, close enough to eavesdrop, but too far away to interject directly, Jasmine began.

“Hello, Phil!” Jasmine called out, as she finished applying a fresh coat of dusty rose lipstick, which she promptly put away, before walking over to Phil and giving him hug, and large visible kiss to the side of his head.

Chuckle.

Phil just laughed at the antics, knowing that Jasmine was trying to get a rise out of her fellow roommates. Still, Phil played his part.

“To what do I owe the honor of such a greeting?” Phil asked, his skin tingling slightly as an undeniable want to scratch the newly painted area was in full effect.

“Just a thank you for letting us move in with you, to your new house,” Jasmine spoke loudly enough so that her voice would clearly carry up the staircase and to the two other roommates. While Jasmine chose the direct approach of watching the girls going up the steps, Phil was following the shadows of the girls. Both did the same thing, but Phil couldn’t help but feel that his method of watching was a bit stealthier. Once Jasmine was certain that both had entered their rooms and were busy, she turned back to look at the still sitting Phil. As their eyes met, Phil could only smile.

“You still haven’t told her yet?”

Hearing Phil’s question thrown out there so openly, Jasmine felt confused at first, biting her lips for a moment as she both reapplied what was left of her lipstick and trying to hide her embarrassment.

“Is it that obvious?” Jasmine asked, her voice low as she looked up the stairs, not wanting the others to hear her confession.

“To me? Yes. To her, probably not so much.” Phil offered truthfully.

“Do you think she knows?” Jasmine asked, her hands nervously fidgeting together.

“Possibly, but she’s like her machines.”

“Her machines?” Jasmine asked not quite getting the reference.

“Yes, they are either working, or they are not. They either have a problem that can be fixed, or—” Phil let the last part of his thoughts end there, not wanting to end the poor girl’s hopes. If anything, Phil was rooting for the two. Actually, by now, Phil would just be happy knowing that Misha was taken care of by the time, it was his turn to rejoin his beloved Julie. The only woman Phil had room in his heart for. Well, the only woman, other than Misha who was basically a younger more determined version of his Julie that it was beyond scary. That was why he was willing to pick up everything and head down here to help play matchmaker. Or at the very least see the woman Misha ultimately became, so he could tell stories to Julie, once they met again.

Jasmine thought about the comments for a bit, but then let frustration kick in.

“Gah, she is just so hard to love.”

Phil just shook his head and corrected the poor girl, “people like her are easy to love. The hard part is for mortals like us to see how our love affects them.”

Phil spoke from experience, as it wasn’t until much later on that he saw the way Julie reacted to his constant pressures. Truth be told, he could see part of himself in Jasmine, which was why he didn’t mind helping out a seemingly kindred spirit in Jasmine shoot her best shot.

Only after a few more seconds of this did Phil’s eyes go towards the still open front door, where two suitcases stood.

“You just going to leave the door open?” Phil asked.

“Oh, right,” Jasmine exclaimed and then grabbed her suitcases and pulled them in, before closing the front door. With that a now blushing Jasmine grabbed her suitcases and began carrying them upstairs as well.

In this house, there were three room on the top floor, and one room on the ground floor, followed by the living room with an faint strip of wall behind the door that separated the living room from the dining room, and then a small island that could also serve as a serving area that separated the dining room from the kitchen.

The house was a bit of a fixer upper, but it would give Phil something to do while the girls were away at their games, or at classes.

When dividing rooms up, Phil had said he wanted the floor on the ground floor, so he could hear when the girls brought home their boyfriends and could step in as needed. But honestly, part of why he wanted to move was so he could live on the first floor as his knees were having a hard time going up and down the stairs.

Even now he wanted to get up and get a second cup of coffee, but his body wouldn’t listen to him. Still, he had to keep a strong façade for Misha and the others.

Stomp, clop, clatter.

Phil listened contentedly to the sounds of a living house, that is a house that had people moving and living freely within its walls. In his mind, this was what made a house a home. Four walls containing four people wanting to live together with the goal of surviving and thriving together.

Finally, the first to be done with their packing was Darcy, who came down and as she walked past Phil, Phil couldn’t help but call out.

“Would you mind getting me another cup of coffee?” Phil asked, really it was because his knee was killing him, but he still had his pride and did not want to appear weak.

“Oh, sure thing,” Darcy replied grabbing the cup and asking, “do you take it with anything?”

“Nope, no fru-fru, just black, like my soul.” Phil joked.

“Okay,” Darcy replied and the busied herself about the kitchen. Just watching her work, Phil realized she was the type of person who would need supervision. The type who would leave behind coffee drops or stains on the counter and just walk away, oblivious to their presence.

Having watched a few drops himself, Phil almost wanted to ask her if she saw them, but decided against such an act. Not for the first day at least. Give them all time to settle in.

“Here you go,” Darcy offered the coffee mug while herself holding onto the handle. This was mainly because she had her own coffee mug held in her other hand. A monstrosity of cream, sugar, and very little coffee. Phil could only shake his head at having wasted so much cup space on such amenities. Still, it did mean that there was more coffee for him. Or at least there should be, as long as it wasn’t all spilt on the counter.

“Thank you dear,” Phil replied reaching out and grabbing the cup with both hands, and quickly moving to the handle, once Darcy removed her dainty hand from it.

Sip.

Phil drank a bit of the hot liquid, but could only watch in fascination as Darcy sat down across from him, and then stared for a few seconds before nervously looking away. Seeing the act, Phil chuckled lightly to himself, seeing it as a way Darcy could ask a question without seeming imposing, not realizing that all her gestures made it so no one else could do anything but address her first, before getting on with their day.

Realizing the tactic for what it was, Phil gave a solid ten count in his mind, before finally asking.

“You seem nervous, is there something I can help with?” Phil asked.

“How’d you know?” Darcy asked.

Phil could only just laugh at the comment, but answered sagely. “Call it Grandfather’s intuition.”

Hearing that explanation Darcy just nodded her head for a moment, and finally asked, “first, thank you for uprooting your whole life and coming out here. I can only imagine how much it would require to do that much for anyone.”

Sigh.

As Darcy spoke, Phil could only let out a knowing sigh of pain for the poor girl. While he wasn’t fully aware of Darcy’s full situation, he understood the problems all too well. Successful parents grow up raising a family, and neglect a daughter. Or at the very least can’t afford to give her the attention she likely deserves due to their trying to ensure she has stability that is born from having financial concerns taken care of. Not quite realizing that by trying to provide that type of lifestyle for their daughter, they are causing instability in other areas that are clearly bothering her.

“It wasn’t a hassle at all. In fact, I consider it my final reward for a life well lived to get to see my granddaughter and her friends before they truly make it in the world. She is after all the only family I have left.” Phil responds honestly.

Hearing those words Darcy pauses, and then practically calls out Phil for being heartless.

“Wait, doesn’t Misha’s mother count?” Darcy asked.

Frustrated sigh.

At that rebuttal Phil could only let out a sigh of sadness, “she does, but I don’t know. I’ve about given up on her.”

“Wait, your own daughter doesn’t count?” Darcy asks, a note of concern clearly evident in her voice. Hearing her cry out like that, Phil can only realize that he is about to give Darcy even more stress and heartache by giving her the idea that parents could cut off daughters that are disappointments. This is why, he tries his best to clarify.

“Come on, you can’t hold that against me. I gave her a solid Thirty-seven years. But now she has joined a cult and gone France.”

“A cult?”

“Yeah, one where she believes she is carrying an alien baby. Worse, she believes that some French lady who is also pregnant, is carrying the master child.” Phil explained, or at least he tried to explain, as the details seemed odd to him, and he really did want to try to understand where his daughter’s head was.

“Wait, that can’t be true?” Darcy protested.

“It is,” Misha commented, coming down the creaking staircase as she entered the living room. Hearing the staircase, Phil added that as something else that needed to be fixed. Then paused as he realized that such loud steps would make it easy to track how many people were coming into the house at any given time. Debating with himself, he added fixing the steps as an item, but towards the back of his to do list. “She is in France now, as we speak.”

“Wait, so your mother abandoned you? To go to France to hang out with a pregnant lady who has an exceptional alien baby?” Darcy asks, trying to make sure all of Phil’s points were backed up and validated.

Misha hearing those notes nodded along, and then made sure to emphasize, “don’t forget that she too thinks her own child is a descendant from the same lineage.”

“See, a cult,” Phil cut in.

Hearing the explanation, Darcy visibly looked relieved. Realizing that while she might have made some mistakes, it was clear that she was not near the level of joining a pregnancy cult of alien birthing mothers.

“Okay, I could see why you would want to leave and start over after that,” Darcy finally commented.

Phil just nodded sagely and began drinking his coffee. A few stains coated the sides of his mug, but it was okay, as he figured for this semester, a few coffee stains would be the least of his worries.

 Misha for her part was as observant as ever, and strode forward, almost going completely past Phil. Only to stop suddenly, the way a shark would once it spots prey from the corner of its eye. Turning her head, she looked at Phil head on and couldn’t help but state.

“You have a little, something on your face,” Misha commented and then pointed to the right side of her head. The exact mirrored spot from where Phil sported his own set of brightly colored pink lips. Seeing that it caught the attention of the person it was supposed to, Phil smiled coyly, before replying.

“I did, courtesy of an admirer,” Phil replied.

Misha’s eyes instantly looked to take in Darcy’s face who was wearing at most lip balm, but nothing close to the level of vibrant pink that was on Phil’s face. Knowing that Misha likely got the source, he decided to help this little match making process along.

“You jealous?” Phil asked, putting his hands up behind his head in a commanding act that also helped draw even more attention to the set of sparkling kiss on his head.

Misha just stared for a moment, which was good as it meant she was finally thinking about what was right there in front of her. Again, Phil knew he wouldn’t live forever, but if pushed things along, he could live long enough to see Misha truly happy, and that was his goal.