I don’t possess a burning desire to leave home and explore every part of the universe like he did when he was my age. But I’m curious about what the deal is with Mom and this funeral.” I change the subject because I hate arguing with my father.
“Aren’t you even curious about what’s out there?” “I’m happy, so stop trying to mess with it.”ĭad leans back in his chair and tosses a pen he’s been fiddling with onto the table. “I love my life.” I flutter my eyelashes in an attempt to appear cute. She painted the walls yellow because she read an article that said it’s a welcoming color. Mom’s created a homey room with fresh flowers in several vases scattered on the table, island and counter. The kitchen, to the three of us, is the focal point of our existence. “There’s more out there for you than these four walls.” We even have color-coordinated comforters picked out, because that’s how Trisha rolls.ĭad waves his hand at the room. We’ve spent the past two years dreaming of going to the local college and rooming together. “I love Florida.” I love it so much that I have plans that involve staying here in town after graduation. “There’s more to life than Florida,” he insists. I believe it mentioned visiting out-of-town universities with your school this summer.”ĭang it, I should have used the paper shredder.
“I’m talking about the paperwork I found in the trash.
“I’m not only talking about your fear of dead things,” Dad continues. His chuckles fade and I loathe the heavy silence that follows. I release an unladylike snort and Dad laughs. “I’m going to go out on a limb and say you’re safe from a Walking Dead episode.” “Are you suggesting a body isn’t going to come back to life and try to eat me?” Hives form on my wrist and I scratch at the welts under the table while flashing a forced grin. Sure, his words sound pretty, but there’s this serious anxiety suffocating me like a shroud. The best way to get over your fears is to face them.” Besides, you and I have had this discussion. “Your mom and I will be there and absolutely nothing will harm you. He’s asking me to voluntarily enter a building where there are dead people. If she needs to attend this funeral then we’ll attend.”ĭad’s patient blue eyes search me and I consider ducking under the table before he notices how much the prospect bothers me. “But this is important to your mom, and you and she are the two most important things to me. “I don’t claim to understand most of this,” he says. Dad hardly ever loses his temper or yells. It’s reason one million and one why I love him. That’s it? He knows? “I was hoping for something a little more like ‘I’ll talk to your Mom and I’ll convince her to shelve the crazy for a few days.’ I mean, we are underestimating the value of sending a well-written note attached to a nice flower arrangement.”ĭad does that thing where he’s quiet while mulling over a response.
0 kommentar(er)
