got dinner with the sisters tonight and I had the oh fuck, you're an adult realization about the youngest one.

Does Amb ever feel like she lacks something in her life, having almost no relationship with her father?

This was a very rude question and I love you.

Although her father is physically absent, Matthew Reynolds is still a potent figure in her life: the devil on one’s back, chip on one’s shoulder. A purposeful and beleaguering reminder that makes her work harder but all the same it is also a reminder that makes her question the work she does to a pathological fault. The last word she shared with Matthew Reynolds was over seventeen years ago. The human skin replenishes almost every month, her voice has grown deeper, her stature taller; she no longer thinks of herself as his daughter, as there is virtually no contact. Nevertheless, she still feels a strong attachment to him, or perhaps the idea of him, try as she might to sever any remaining tethers to him that might exist from shared bloodline alone. Her heart strings are still very much conducted as his own marionette as she finds herself questioning the photos she has tucked beneath her drawers. Is she really the child he’s holding in the polaroid?  She knows she has her father’s nose and her mother’s temper, but the sense of dread that seeps into the faults of her ribcage whenever the permanence of a relationship, whatever the nature, exceeds two months, is inevitably his. The nine missed calls, six voice mails, are all his because they share the same truancy and the same familial neglect, yet is is his that she always seems to blame. Though she knows little of her father’s nature apart from what she remembers from childhood (astringent, tight-lipped, imposing), this is certainly borderline symptomatology.

Thus, Matthew largely lives inside the less glamorous aspects of her disposition, the deeper factions of her psyche, unearthed by means of vodka and sappy movies; nevertheless, his presence is keenly felt in the social circles she frequently skirts. The Reynolds name is relatively well known in the legal hemisphere, her father being the London-born lawyer who would sue the pants off God if he could, and Ambrosia’s sole mentor – if not father figure – being the respected New York lawyer @legalbastard, it has become increasingly difficult to flank the extremities of her father’s occupational purview. Her father’s legacy is seldom – if ever – correlated in terms to Ambrosia’s surname, though hearing of any recent litigations on his part will do the trick in rising bile. He has gleaned a small notoriety for himself which seems to abound in most bureaucratic cotieres by virtue of the same character he exhibited in her childhood: astringent, tight-lipped, imposing.

Moreover, Matthew’s presence also affects her life in fiscal matters, although in this situation he proves no more than a shadow. Other than a flimsy excuse, her father left little behind when he separated from her mother; in some ways, this worked to their advantage. They could not become sentimental over what expenses he shared with them, nor cling to any tangible aspects he left in his wake. From a young age, Ambrosia would have been privy to the fact that Elizabeth and Matthew kept contact, if only for legal purposes. If nothing else, Matthew could be applauded for his tact and decorum; in spite of what transpired in the past, since the day of their separation Ambrosia has received monthly stipends which she claims are part of a paternal inheritance and not of a ‘trust fund’ nature. However, since Matthew legally renounced all custody of his daughter, he was not bound to contribute financially following her eighteenth birthday, though to the day he continues to pour funds into custodial coffers. To her chagrin, Ambrosia also received a large sum which went towards the reparation of college funds in 2014, having ripped through most of her balances in the course of two years. This became a point of shame, her own inability to keep herself fiscally afloat becoming a weight upon her conscience, if not a well-concealed secret given the undercurrent of the ‘blind’ transaction. Matthew and Ambrosia did not broach contact over the matter, though it is presumed that her mother had a hand in it, and Ambrosia, struggling with a downward economic trajectory, was obliged to accept. It served to remind her of her father’s lack of dedication to her well-being, but rather a biological debt – his inability to contact her, and her disinclination to contact him, solidifying the one-sided notion. Nevertheless, she continues to receive aforementioned monthly allowances, which are untaxed and contingent on nothing, although she is loathe to admit the nature of the settlements. Only a select few, her account holder among them, are privy to the negotiations afoot. The account serves nothing other than to well guilt and pay her rent.

OKAY, so now that I’ve gone over every tie Ambrosia has to her father, here’s the question: what is she missing in her life that this relationship did not fulfill? It’s mostly qualities and aspects of herself that would have otherwise been intact had the absence of her father not carved landmines of her psyche. He instilled within her a chronic loss, a persistent fear to admit defeat. What she holds, she holds with all her heart, for the possibility of emotional deprivation is all too real in her life. It is perhaps what makes her relationship with her twenty-year old cat rather poignant, but that’s neither here nor there. Furthermore, rejection is not something Ambrosia receives well, and it likely stems from sentiments of neglect which can likely amount as the result of a loss of a parent. So in summary, her father’s absence has had a significant, if not unabating, influence on her current self, and surely a more positive version of Ambrosia Reynolds would’ve cropped up if her father had. She’s become strongly attached, fixated on objects. Relatively privy to this fault, she neither permits herself the pleasure nor comfort of finding solace in others, apart from a few select, fearing the worst and hoping for the best. She’s rigid with routines, allowing little room in the way for surprise or last minute reconsideration, and has in due course become more insistent about what she wants, become more repetitive to create security. Her schedule seems as though it does not allow the possibility of leaving.

As a child, she conjectured an elaborate tale that her father left because of her (and her perhaps, her inability to save or even act as a deputy for her sister), and though as an adult she has disentangled herself from this asinine notion, a few vestiges still remain and have blossomed into rather dysfunctional habits. Believing that her parent’s separation had been her fault had, in youth, given reason for several detrimental tendencies: mistakes were unacceptable. Failures could not be accounted for in a grand scheme, each held the same weight, the same consequence. Feelings were not something to be worn on one’s sleeves: nothing hurt, there was nothing to grow irrational over (except she did). Though chiefly, it was not okay to have needs. Being needy was the mark of failure, and the inability to be self-sufficient –– independent. Adopting a ‘pull yourself up from the bootstraps’ disposition, she would not come close to touching these faults she so clearly blamed for the extrication of her father’s presence in her life. These benchmarks would be mitigated in time; but in truth, they would never leave completely.

There is something of an emotional rather than physical deficiency that Matthew left behind. Words cannot properly place nor relay the absence which often consumes her in relation to her father –– though selfishly, it is often put in retrospection of: how could he leave ‘me’? Me being, Ambrosia Reynolds, the girl who could seemingly do no wrong. What was it about me that he could not stay? She thinks nothing of her mother when her father’s absence is brought to light, and in some ways, she has found herself blaming the woman for her divorce as well, alongside a severe lack of emotional guidance. Elizabeth, whilst good natured, proved a better companion than mother, and had been about as nurturing as a steak knife in youth. Now that Ambrosia is older and better conditioned to her mother’s peculiarities, they have assumed a better relationship, although she cannot seem to weaken her grip on the age-old grudge she bears against Elizabeth.

Thank you so much for asking! // @consultingsister