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The following is a short story I wrote today. This is a first draft, so there are liable to be errors a-plenty. But I figured some of you might want to look at what goes on during the writing process. I’ve also got plans to expand this plot as part of an upcoming novel (however, I’ve got three other novels I’m currently working on before I’d get to this one, and I wanted to make sure I got this part out regardless of whether I ever worked on a novel version…so here you go).

The wind was cold, bitter.

It came from every possible angle, bearing snow in the kind of crystallized pellets that could blast paint off the side of a home. Melissa Kauffman wrapped her coat tighter around her body and stepped deeper into the cold.

The house in front of her seemed almost a formidable foe. But she knew such thinking was absurd. It wasn’t really the house at all.

It was who she would find in the house.

For a minute, Melissa wondered if she could go through with this after all. Sure, it had seemed like a good idea four days earlier when she had been sitting in the comfort of her own apartment. Now, under the cold, snowy Illinois winter sky, her courage had faltered.

Before she could change her mind, however, the porch light came on. Slowly, the door opened and the man stepped out. “Help you?” he asked, voice gruff and as piercing as the wind.

Melissa swallowed. Her hands felt sweaty despite the fact that they were exposed to the bitter winter. She wiped them on her pants subconsciously, and then said: “Hello, Dad.”

It had been eleven years, four months, and six days since Bill Kauffman had seen his daughter. He stood in disbelief, unable to comprehend the depths to which his universe had just been altered. No, this isn’t right, he thought. She’s a Jehovah’s Witness, like I thought she was. She’s not my daughter.

But even as he thought it, he realized it was true. The woman at the bottom of his porch steps looked far too much like her mother. And now that he could see Jane in the young woman, Bill felt the waves of nausea wash over.

He managed not to spit in front of his daughter. “What are you doing here?” he finally managed.

The wind tugged at Melissa’s hair and a few strands fell down across her face. She brushed them back in a gesture that mimicked Jane, and once more Bill’s stomach turned sour.

“I…I was wondering if I could talk to you.”

Bill nodded, but wasn’t really thinking of what the woman had said. Instead, he realized how cold his feet were. Since he had been expecting the hesitant woman to be a J.W. on her first missionary trip, he had figured dismissing her wouldn’t take very long. His shoes were still in his bedroom.

The wind carried another blast of snow-crystals. The pain on the side of his face finally brought Bill back to the real world. “Where are my manners? Come in.”

He pushed the door open. The wind immediately thrust it back toward him, as if God Himself were trying to keep the door closed. Bill pushed it back, holding it this time, and allowed his long lost daughter to enter his house.

Melissa noticed at once that it was a rather humble abode. Since the divorce, eleven years ago, Melissa had stayed with her mother. She had remarried—first to a doctor, then a lawyer. She would never have lived in a house as small as Bill’s.

Melissa stamped her feet, clearing them of snow. She noticed her father step over the spot on the rug and realized he was barefoot. “Sorry,” she started.

“Don’t think of it,” he immediately replied. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me a bit off guard. I wasn’t expecting to see you.” Though he didn’t say it, Melissa was certain he had almost added: “Ever again.”

“Well,” she said, as if that explained everything. Then: “I’m doing a research project. I’m supposed to trace some of my genealogy. I’ve already got mom’s side.” Her voice trailed off.

“So, you came to find out mine, huh?” Bill shrugged. “I guess I can do that.”

Melissa nodded, pulled her backpack off, got out a notepad. “Um…this feels a little awkward.”

“You’re telling me.”

Melissa bit her lip. Then, she began the interview.

It was the most uncomfortable interview possible, made more so by the fact that the questions Melissa asked about Bill’s parents were not the questions really on her mind. Bill wasn’t quite sure what his daughter wanted to ask, but he knew enough to know it wasn’t what Dad’s job had been.

He had never imagined this day would come, and as such he had never prepared for it. He had no idea what he was supposed to say or do. He just tried to answer the questions as best he could, and he prayed that she wouldn’t get the courage to ask what was on her mind.

Then, suddenly, she did.

“Why did you leave me?”

The question was out before Melissa could stop it. She almost hadn’t realized she had asked it. But now that it was out there, she felt a slight bit better.

“I don’t understand what—”

“Come on, Dad. You know what I mean. You made a promise to me.” Melissa tried to keep her voice under control, but it cracked anyway. She cleared her throat, tried to pass it off as the weather. But she knew that her father knew the truth already.

“Pumpkin, things happen in life.”

“But you promised.” Melissa looked up at her father, stared into his eyes. But there was no recollection. “You remember, don’t you?”

“I…I don’t think so.”

Melissa closed her eyes. She couldn’t stop the tears anymore.

She was just a girl, twelve years old. Mom and Dad had gotten their divorce already. They were still mad at each other. Melissa had to live with Mom, got to see Dad every weekend. But things were about to change.

“I love you, Dad,” Melissa said from passenger’s seat of the car.

“Me too, Pumpkin.” He smiled at her, but he was distracted.

“Mommy says we’re moving to California.”

He nodded.

“They’re making me go with her too. Why can’t you come?”

Daddy swallowed painfully. “I have to stay here.”

“But I’ll never get to see you again if you’re here!”

“Sure you will,” Daddy lied. “You won’t be that…that far away.” He looked away from his daughter.

“I want to be with you though. I don’t understand why they won’t let me stay with you!”

Daddy leaned back. “Pumpkin, I promise you I’ll do what I can. I love you more than anything. I promise I’ll never lose you.”

“Never?”

“Never ever.” He pulled her over, hugging her tightly. Then, he dropped her off at Mom’s house and she never saw him again.

Bill couldn’t hold his tears back any longer. “I’m so sorry. I’d give anything…” The rest was swamped out by his pain.

Melissa didn’t know what to think. The tears looked real, but he had abandoned her so cruelly before. That pain wouldn’t just vanish because he finally shed a few tears.

It took a few minutes, but Bill finally composed himself. “There’s something you need to see,” he finally said, standing. As he moved to the bedroom and got his shoes he said, “You’ll need your coat again.”

They stood in the backyard, wind at their back. Bill had kicked away the snow from the front of the stone. Melissa looked at it and her jaw dropped.

It was a tombstone. And it had her name on it.

“What—”

“It’s a memorial stone,” Bill said, his voice taking that semi-monotonous tone people take when they have to speak about something personal but don’t want to give away how painful it is. “I…I had to pretend you were dead. It was the only way to get closure.”

“Closure? But you could have just visited me!”

Bill shook his head. “It’s not that simple,” he started.

“You could have fought for me! But you abandoned me.”

“I had no choice!” Bill shouted. “Your mother…”

“What about her?”

Bill clenched his fists. “God help me.” His voice was a whisper on the wind. “I’m a sick man, Melissa. A sick man.”

She didn’t say anything. That was almost worse than if she had simply agreed. Bill hung his head. “I’m bi polar.”

“What?”

Another gust of wind hit him, but the cold it brought couldn’t match the cold in his heart. “Your mother knew that.”

Bill turned into the wind. “When we divorced, we got joint custody of you. But that wasn’t enough for your mother. She wanted you all to herself.”

Melissa nodded. Her mother was controlling like that. But still, there’s no way she could have gotten away with it.

“When she said she was moving to California, I vowed I’d fight for you, Pumpkin. I swore I’d go broke if I had to, but I was going to keep you. But…she told the judge…”

“What did she tell the judge?”

“When I was eighteen, I crashed. I hit one of the lowest points of my life. This was before I knew I was bi polar. I just knew that something was wrong with me. My life was in shambles, I couldn’t understand why God hated me so much. So I…I drove my truck into the wall behind Safeway.”

There wasn’t a sound between them now. It was like the wind had died, even though Melissa could feel it biting in her back.

“I was going out with Jane at the time. She was worried sick. I told everyone that I had been joyriding in the parking lot and had just gone around the corner too fast to stop in time. Everyone believed that, except Jane. So I told her the truth.”

“And she told the judge.”

Bill looked up to the sky. “I denied it to him, of course. I’d been diagnosed by then, but I told the judge my medication kept me sane. But he…disagreed.”

“Dad, I…” She faltered, unsure what she could possibly say.

Bill looked down at the stone at their feet. “They said I couldn’t see you anymore. They said Jane could keep you and I had no rights, no rights at all. The got a restraining…” Tears trekked down his cheeks, freezing in the bitter temperatures, but he paid them no mind. “Don’t you realize it, Melissa? They killed you. They killed you and didn’t even leave me a body I could bury.”

Melissa stepped back for a moment, overwhelmed.

“I tried, Pumpkin. Please believe me, I tried my hardest to keep you!” Suddenly, Bill’s voice twisted and become incomprehensible. He sank to his knees in the snow and pounded his fist against the memorial stone.

Melissa crouched down beside him. “It’s okay, Dad,” she said, although she knew it wasn’t.

Beside her, Bill wept. Melissa held him and stared at the memorial stone.