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Chapter 3 – Lyn Marie

“What!?”
“She said she’d pick you up in the morning.”
“Lindsey! Why didn’t you stop her?” I can’t believe this!
“I’m the one that told her to.”
“Son of a bitch!” That’s it he’s off my Christmas List.
“Have you eaten yet. I can make you a sandwich?”
I nodded. I loved Lindsey; he’s like the father I never had. He grew up with mom. He was family. Wait a minute. He grew up with mom! “Lindsey?” He looked over at me. “Do you know who my mom dated before she left Sunnydale?”
“Yes, I do. Yes he’s your father, and no I’m not telling.”
“Damn it!” Well that’s that I’m just going to be a bastard child all my life. Why does my mom always do what other people tell her to do? Why can’t she just be her own parent? My Grandmother doesn’t even want to associate with me. I hate this. I watched as Lindsey went to his desk pulled out an envelope and wrapped it in the paper towel along with my sandwich.
“Here. This may help.” He said as he handed it to me. I was confused. I unwrapped the sandwich. The envelope fell out. I put my sandwich on the bed and sat against the wall on the floor. I opened it tentatively; pulled out a picture it had my mother and a blonde man in it. She looked so happy. I never seen her that happy. I pulled out a letter. It was written in sloppy cursive to my mom.
Dear Buffy,
It’s me Will. Why didn’t you tell me that you were gonna go to see you aunt in New York? I could have said goodbye properly. Well I’ll just tell you what has happened since you left. Angel got Cordelia pregnant. My dad got really pissed; he threw a lot of things. My mum was upset. She cried all night. Angel didn’t stay; he rented a motel room just out side of town. Cordy went to stay with him. Cor, I miss you luv. I miss you more then the sun misses the sky. I know that your parents will never except us but I want to marry you someday. I want little Buffy and Will’s. I want to see you glow with motherly intuition. I don’t’ know what else to say but, I love you.

William

I looked up to Lindsey and he nodded. This William man was my father, and he loved my mother. She didn’t even tell him. “Lindsey? Does he know about me?” Lindsey shook his head. That’s when I cried. The first time I had cried in five years. This it wasn’t about knowing my father, it was about him not knowing. I looked at the picture again and again, and by the time I fell asleep it was tear stained.





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