for me. It didn’t matter what it was. He was always there.
Was.
I shake my head. I don’t want to think about that right now. Instead, I lie back on my bed and look up at the ceiling.
My cell rings on the nightstand and I lean over to see who it is.
Dad. He hasn’t talked to me since I got here. I’m sure he’s been busy but he could have at least called to see how I was doing. Or I guess I could have called him too. I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, pumpkin. How’s it going?”
I smile at the word pumpkin . He’s called me that since I was a little kid. “Hi, Dad. I’m good.”
“You adjusting to Jo’s house?”
“Yep. It’s nice here.” It takes me a minute to think of the right word. “Relaxing.”
“Good. I just wanted to see how you’re doing. I’ve talked to your mother a few times, but not you.”
“Thanks. I was wondering when you’d call.”
There’s a moment’s hesitation but he continues. “They put up Lucas’s headstone today.”
I can’t say anything because of the sudden lump in my throat.
“It looks nice. There’s a basketball on it and a car. He loved working on his car.”
“I know. His stupid, crappy car. I don’t know why he loved that thing so much.” My lip trembles and I fight to keep myself together. I clear my throat and blink, forcing the moisture in my eyes away. “I’m glad it looks good. Can you text me a picture?”
“Sure.” He’s quiet. “I think about him every day. I visit his grave after work. There are still a lot of flowers there. It looks nice.”
As nice as a grave could look. “Thank you for visiting him, Daddy.” I sniff. “I miss you.” It’s true. Even though we have our days, Dad has always been around. It’s weird not having him here with us.
“I miss you too.”
“Are you gonna come visit?” I have a sinking feeling that he won’t be coming any time soon. If at all. But I have to ask.
“I’m not sure. Your mother and I . . . I’ll talk to her. I’d love to come see you. It just depends on work.”
Of course it does. “Well, I hope you can come before the spring’s over. I can teach you how to surf.”
“Really?”
“No. But I sort of learned how to stay up for five seconds yesterday. It was fun.”
“I’d love to see that.”
I smile. He could see it if he’d stop being so stubborn and just hop on a plane.
“Well, I’ll talk to you later. I have some things I need to take care of. I love you, pumpkin. Call me anytime you need me, okay?”
“Okay.”
We say goodbye and I hang up the phone.
Normally, when I was feeling down, he’d give me a hug or pat me on the shoulder before leaving me. My stomach drops. I wonder if going from parent to parent and being in the middle of their fights will be a permanent thing. I hope they’re working it out. I’m sure the stress of losing their only son has taken its toll on their marriage, but we’re a family. Families are supposed to work things out.
The rest of the day is uneventful. After running to the store, getting a few pictures developed, and hanging them on my wall, I spend most of my time pacing the floor in my room, trying to figure out what to do with myself.
By the time ten o’clock rolls around, everyone’s in bed. Jo was at work all day, Mom spent most of the day in her room again, and I haven’t seen Carson since he went to work yesterday. I don’t want to admit I miss hanging out with him. Especially since it’s only been a day since I saw him. I don’t want to feel like that. It seems needy. And I’m not a needy person.
I should probably change into my pajamas and go to sleep. Maybe I’ll practice my surfing stance tomorrow morning on the beach. Or I could stand in the small waves and practice balancing. It’s not like I have anything else to do.
A small tapping noise comes from my French doors. Curious, I walk over and peek through the curtain.
It’s Carson. Holy crap—I look hideous.
I brush my hair out of
Was.
I shake my head. I don’t want to think about that right now. Instead, I lie back on my bed and look up at the ceiling.
My cell rings on the nightstand and I lean over to see who it is.
Dad. He hasn’t talked to me since I got here. I’m sure he’s been busy but he could have at least called to see how I was doing. Or I guess I could have called him too. I put the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hey, pumpkin. How’s it going?”
I smile at the word pumpkin . He’s called me that since I was a little kid. “Hi, Dad. I’m good.”
“You adjusting to Jo’s house?”
“Yep. It’s nice here.” It takes me a minute to think of the right word. “Relaxing.”
“Good. I just wanted to see how you’re doing. I’ve talked to your mother a few times, but not you.”
“Thanks. I was wondering when you’d call.”
There’s a moment’s hesitation but he continues. “They put up Lucas’s headstone today.”
I can’t say anything because of the sudden lump in my throat.
“It looks nice. There’s a basketball on it and a car. He loved working on his car.”
“I know. His stupid, crappy car. I don’t know why he loved that thing so much.” My lip trembles and I fight to keep myself together. I clear my throat and blink, forcing the moisture in my eyes away. “I’m glad it looks good. Can you text me a picture?”
“Sure.” He’s quiet. “I think about him every day. I visit his grave after work. There are still a lot of flowers there. It looks nice.”
As nice as a grave could look. “Thank you for visiting him, Daddy.” I sniff. “I miss you.” It’s true. Even though we have our days, Dad has always been around. It’s weird not having him here with us.
“I miss you too.”
“Are you gonna come visit?” I have a sinking feeling that he won’t be coming any time soon. If at all. But I have to ask.
“I’m not sure. Your mother and I . . . I’ll talk to her. I’d love to come see you. It just depends on work.”
Of course it does. “Well, I hope you can come before the spring’s over. I can teach you how to surf.”
“Really?”
“No. But I sort of learned how to stay up for five seconds yesterday. It was fun.”
“I’d love to see that.”
I smile. He could see it if he’d stop being so stubborn and just hop on a plane.
“Well, I’ll talk to you later. I have some things I need to take care of. I love you, pumpkin. Call me anytime you need me, okay?”
“Okay.”
We say goodbye and I hang up the phone.
Normally, when I was feeling down, he’d give me a hug or pat me on the shoulder before leaving me. My stomach drops. I wonder if going from parent to parent and being in the middle of their fights will be a permanent thing. I hope they’re working it out. I’m sure the stress of losing their only son has taken its toll on their marriage, but we’re a family. Families are supposed to work things out.
The rest of the day is uneventful. After running to the store, getting a few pictures developed, and hanging them on my wall, I spend most of my time pacing the floor in my room, trying to figure out what to do with myself.
By the time ten o’clock rolls around, everyone’s in bed. Jo was at work all day, Mom spent most of the day in her room again, and I haven’t seen Carson since he went to work yesterday. I don’t want to admit I miss hanging out with him. Especially since it’s only been a day since I saw him. I don’t want to feel like that. It seems needy. And I’m not a needy person.
I should probably change into my pajamas and go to sleep. Maybe I’ll practice my surfing stance tomorrow morning on the beach. Or I could stand in the small waves and practice balancing. It’s not like I have anything else to do.
A small tapping noise comes from my French doors. Curious, I walk over and peek through the curtain.
It’s Carson. Holy crap—I look hideous.
I brush my hair out of
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