She is coming home

Charlie places the kitchen phone down. His right-hand shakes, but not out of fear or anger, but out of true happiness. His eyes itch in a curious manner, and Charlie brings his equally unsteady left hand up to his face.

Tears.

He is crying.

The last time he cried tears was when his daughter was being taken away by her mother. A mother who took his little girl away before she could even talk, or even walk. Not even when Charlie's parents passed away did tears leave his eyes. Parents were supposed to leave; young children were not.

They may have seen each other on holidays, but those meetings were fleeting, and few.

But that separation was now going to be over.

Isabella was coming home. She was coming home as a young adult, who had the ability to make decisions separate from her mother. She would stay here till she went to college.

Isabella, or Bella as she was known, was coming home willingly. She hadn't done that in years, preferring for her father to go to her.

They had missed so much of each other's lives, but this would be an opportunity for them to bond, in a way that was impossible when Bella lived in anther state.

His girl was coming home.