My Daughter Taught Me Novels & Stories

“My mother taught me you shouldn’t expect anyone to do anything for you. You should only rely on yourself, letting people compliment your life rather than control it.” “Your mother was a smart woman,” he says. I hear his footsteps as he comes into the room, making me bristle. I can’t forget that Time is an immortal; I can’t get comfortable around him. “She is. She taught me a lot of valuable skills. Like cooking, among others,” I comment, glancing over my shoulder at him. He doesn’t look intimidated at all.

I bring it to the table and open up my laptop, scrolling absentmindedly through social media. Marcella is so much more than just our housekeeper. My dad is a really great father but there are certain things that a dad has difficulty teaching a daughter. Like what to expect from your first period, or how to shop for bras or how to use a curling iron. I remember me having a breakdown before a dance in 10th grade because I wanted to curl my hair, but when I did, they all turned out weird and floppy and my dad tried to help but burned himself and Marcella had to come to the rescue.

She said, “Yeah it's crazy and hard to believe but I always knew that Miss Esther is a nice lady and that she won't punish us for this." I said. “Yeah she is really nice now I see why you like her. She is now my favorite teacher, second to my dad of course." She said and we both laughed. I saw as Miss Esther was walking to her office, she stopped and glanced at my direction, I gave her a smile which she reciprocated, before she entered her office.

I checked my phone and saw that it was past 10 My mouth got covered with my hand. I was sure that I set my alarm. Why didn't I wake up early? Tristan also carried me to my room last night? How did he carry me? Why would I even sleep off in his hand at night? Am I mad? This is so embarrassing. "Mom! You are awake already." My daughter ran to me and hugged me. "I've been baking with Mister. He taught me a lot." She said to me while I lowered down to her level.

"Why are we here?" "For something very important," she stated. "You see, my father wasn't the best of Dads, but he taught me some things that helped in molding me to be the woman that stands before you today." She took a pause, looking around her before continuing. "He taught me many things, and one of them was that failing sometimes isn't something we get to choose or not. Sometimes it happens, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't do everything we can." A quizzical expression etched on my face, I asked, "Why are you telling me all this?"

Hutchings was intensely beautiful, and she wore an expression that was unimpeachably gracious yet simultaneously revealing intense disinterest in the proceedings. Her father extended a hand. "Mr. Hutchings! Good to meet you. I'm--" "Say no more, Mr. Canon. My daughter's told me all about you. Said you're her favorite teacher. She wasn't too much trouble, I hope?" "Far from it. 'Pleasure to have in class,' as I'm sure you've heard a thousand times over the years." "Yes, well, let me say I had my doubts about letting her attend public school, but you people run a tight ship here, Canon. By all accounts you've done fine work with my Tabitha. You're to be commended."

"And Jay - thanks. I know I'm not very good at showing it but I do love you. I always have. And today I can't think of anyone I'd rather have by my side in a crisis. You've grown up into a damn fine man." Jason shrugged. "I had a good teacher. Mom's great but she's no good at reading subtext. If it isn't there in front of her in living color, she doesn't see it. Your style is more subtle. I can respect that." He nodded toward Lydia writhing on the bed. "And it seems like she's got you figured out. She's good for you. Don't blow it." "It won't bother you to have a stepmother who's only a few years older than you?"

I called holding her hand “Maybe things like cooking will serve as a therapy for me and help me heal faster, who knows I might develop love for cooking and decides to learn every dish” “Now that's my daughter talking, and don't worry I won't allow the chefs to be the one to teach you, cause I want you to learn from the best and your mother right here is the best chefs, so are you ready to learn how to cook young lady” She said dramatically extending her hand at me, I happily took it and she helped me stand up from the bed as we made our way to the kitchen.

Tears rolled down my cheeks but I immediately wiped them, afraid to show Millie my sadness as she enjoyed what she was doing. When did she learn to play piano? I don’t remember teaching her because I stopped playing it a long time ago. I swallowed hard after she finished her piece. She turned to me and held out to me. “Play with me, mommy.” I remember mentioning to her that my father taught me to play it. I took a deep sigh, taking a lot of courage to lay my fingers on the piano keys once again. I have long forgotten about the joy I felt whenever I played this instrument for my parents but I think it’s time to replace those painful memories with a new memory with my daughter.

, I asked her hoping to ease the awkward slience that was in the car. "My mother was a teacher who loved teaching kids of different classes. She even gave tuition to kids who couldn't afford to go to school. I learned that knowledge can be given for free to a kid and they will remember you in their duas. I became a teacher to honor her memories", she explained to me. What she didn't realize was that I parked the car near a café so that I could pass the time until I could meet her father. "What are we doing here?", she added as she looked around.