In the morning, I woke to the awful sound of my alarm clock and discovered my face was stuck to the pages of the book. Embarrassingly, there was also a wet spot on the page. Apparently, I still drooled in my sleep like I did as a child. I grimaced at the book, hoping it would dry without leaving a spot.
Cringing at the annoying beeping emanating from the clock, I crawled, sluggishly, across my bed. I slapped the snooze bar so the noise would desist while I fumbled around for the button to turn it off completely.
Yawning, I moved off the bed, grabbed some clean clothes and shuffled my way to the bathroom. After a quick, lukewarm shower, I headed downstairs to find Luke and Skylar eating their breakfast. It was Pop Tarts and cereal all around.
“Mom was here to pick up some things for Dad, but she left a while ago,” Skylar answered when I asked if anyone had heard from her.
I nodded that I’d heard as I poured myself a bowl of Froot Loops and sat down at the table. I hadn’t noticed before—because we usually didn’t do family breakfast during the weekend and the grandparents Granger had been here the previous morning, which was off putting enough—but it was so weird not to see Dad sitting there, reading the morning paper and sipping on his coffee. I was so glad Dad would be home by the end of the day. I didn’t think Dad was the only one needing his sense of normality restored.
School was mostly like the day before. I managed to pay a little more attention than I had the previous day. It seemed Luke was feeling better because he launched into discussing Oxide during lunch. Since it was obvious Dad would need his rest and that would be hard to do with the band banging around in the garage, the group was trying to make other arrangements for practice.
In the end Toby said, “I’ll talk to my parents tonight. They might let us use their basement for a while.”
It was actually kind of nice to hear band talk again. It felt normal and inane, which was strangely comforting. I was kind of sad about practice being moved elsewhere. I’d enjoyed listening to the band, but it would also be nice to be able to think without a constant beat keeping time for my thoughts. I wondered if Luke would let me tag along with him; if not, maybe Mark would be willing—especially if Tegan went—to take me.
“It’s nice to see you smile again,” Jackson commented during lunch.
I turned to him, smiling again, and confessed, “It’s kind of nice to hear the normal lunch chit chat.”
“I know what you mean,” he agreed. “So, your dad’s coming home today?”
“That’s the plan,” I nodded with a contented sigh.
“I’m really glad he’s okay.”
“Thank you. So am I.”
Jackson and I hadn’t really had the chance to talk much over the last few days. Between being in and out of the hospital all weekend and being totally zoned out the day before, I hadn’t been the best conversationalist. The only parts of conversation I could accurately recall were Jackson’s words of reassurance that Dad would be okay and asking me the previous day how Dad was doing. Thankfully, he understood and didn’t seem to mind.
“I don’t think I ever said it, but thank you for coming to the hospital Friday—or, I guess, I should say—Saturday morning.”
He smiled softly. “You know there’s no need to thank me.” I wanted to argue, but Jackson changed the subject. “I take it you and Tegan worked out your differences?”
I nodded, glancing over at Tegan. She was seated across the table next to Mark, apparently, caught in the middle of the ongoing Oxide discussion.
“Good. I’m glad.” Jackson seemed so sincere. I found it incredibly sweet that he actually cared enough to notice and ask. Most guys probably wouldn’t, but I was lucky because my boyfriend wasn’t like most guys. I guess maybe Skylar had a point when she said that my future boyfriend would probably be weird too—except Jackson wasn’t necessarily weird; he was just more thoughtful.
“Me too,” I agreed as the bell rang, signaling lunch was over.
Thankfully, all went as planned and Dad was released from the hospital. Mom’s car was in the driveway when Skylar and I got home, and Dad was camped out on the couch, snoring loudly, while Mom dozed on the recliner.
She opened her eyes when we entered the room, though, and smiled slightly, looking more relaxed than I’d seen her in days.
“Hey, girls.”
“Hi,” Skylar and I answered in unison.
“How long have you been home?” Skylar asked.
Mom yawned as she glanced at the clock above the entertainment center. “A couple of hours. How was school?”
I shrugged and Skylar made a face.
“Oh, that well, huh?” Mom smiled as Dad’s snoring ceased as he began to stir. Skylar and I both looked over to him as his eyes cracked open.
“Hi, girls,” he smiled tiredly.
“Hey, Dad.” I walked over and kissed him on the forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better now that I’m home.”
Like Mom, he asked about school. When Luke meandered in, he was asked the same battery of questions. It was obvious that Dad was still tired, though, so I excused myself on the claim that I had homework to do.
Skylar had to get back to work. She’d called in to work all weekend, but she decided she should probably get back to work now that Dad was home and seemed to be okay. Luke stayed with Dad, though, while Mom decided to go lie down upstairs for a nap.
“I’ll order something for dinner,” she called after me as I headed upstairs.
In the end, that wasn’t necessary because Travis and Tegan showed up later that evening, after Mom woke from her nap and I’d wondered back downstairs to the living room where Luke was watching television while Dad faded in and out of sleep. Travis had baked a huge pan of lasagna I was certain would last the rest of the week despite Luke’s very healthy eating habits.
Mom thanked Travis about a million times, insisting he shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble, but I think we were all grateful for his generosity. As much as I liked fast food, I was ready for a real meal. Along with the lasagna, Travis brought homemade breadsticks and fresh salad. It was by far the best meal I’d had in a while.
After dinner, I loaded the dishes into the washer while Mom decided to do some laundry. Hers had started to pile up over the weekend. I’d have done it for her, but I knew she was a bit picky about how things were done. Besides, I figured maybe she’d consider doing laundry to be cathartic since she seemed to enjoy folding it so much.
Once the dishwasher was running, I went into the living room with Dad while Luke went upstairs to work on his homework.
“Dinner was excellent,” Dad commented, resting his head against the back of the recliner. “Especially after the sorry excuse for food they served at the hospital.”
Mom and Luke had helped Dad ease into the seat because he wasn’t supposed to push or pull himself with his arms. It was somewhat awkward that he wasn’t wearing a shirt because it left the incision from his surgery showing, standing out brightly against his pale chest. I was sure it would leave an ugly scar. I wondered out loud if it hurt, and Dad looked down at it, nodding. “It’s not exactly pretty either, is it?”
“They say scars add character,” I tried.
Dad nodded. “I suppose that’s probably true.”
We were quiet for a long time after that. CNN was on, and while I usually didn’t enjoy watching the news—it was always so depressing—I didn’t have anything else to do. Changing the channel was out of the question, and I was happy to spend the time just sitting quietly with Dad, appreciating the fact that he was there, alive and getting well.
“Cecilia?” Dad said after a while.
“Yeah?” Expecting him to ask me to fetch something for him, I sat forward.
“Sweetie, I want to apologize,” he said instead. I was confused and surprised, but I didn’t need to ask why he was apologizing because he continued on. “I know things haven’t been great around here lately. There’s been so much going on and
a lot of tiffs that had left the atmosphere a bit tense.”
I nodded, acknowledging the truth of that statement.
“I just want you to know that I’m sorry. My behavior has been deplorable, at best, many times,” he said. “I hate that things haven’t been good around here because of me. Even though none of the problems have anything to do with you, directly, I’m sure they still affect you. I also know you’ve been a bit lost in the shuffle. I hate that I haven’t been a good dad to you, but I’m going to try harder from here on out.”
I was dumbstruck. Dad wasn’t typically prone to the random statement nor was he particularly verbose. I’d never expected him to say anything of this sort because the words were so unlike him. Sure, he’d apologized and acknowledged I was growing up some months earlier, but this was just so strange. Even though Dad had never been as involved as some parents, I’d never really felt he wasn’t a good dad.
I wasn’t sure how to respond. I felt like he was being harder on himself than required. Still, I liked the idea of Dad being more active in my life. I’d longed for the kind of father daughter relationship Tegan and Travis had. I thought it would be great if I could have just a bit of that with Dad. I just didn’t want him believe I felt neglected.
In the end, I finally said, “I’d like that, Dad. I’d like that a lot.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
I’d always prided myself in paying attention to details; I was rarely ever unaware of my surroundings; if anything, I was too wrapped up in what was happening around me. The only time my brain shut those things out was when I was too emotionally distressed to pay attention.
Even though Dad was on the mend, we all had to adjust to having him around the house all the time. It was somewhat strange since Dad hadn’t been quite so present around the house in the past.
Despite Dad’s protests, Mom used the last of her sick days to be home with him during his first week back home. If she’d had the vacation time, I was sure she would have used that as well and taken off the remainder of the school year.
“It’s fine, Leela,” Dad said when Mom fretted the night before she had to go back to work. “I’m not an invalid. The physical therapist said it’s good for me to get around on my own.”
“I know that,” Mom sighed. “I just worry.”
“Too much,” he insisted. “I’ll be fine. It’ll be nice to have a break from everyone fawning over me.”
Still, Dad needed our help, and that kept us all busy, which was why I was caught so unawares that the last three weeks of school had zoomed by in a blur and the last day of school arrived. Even through studying for finals, it hadn’t registered that it looked as though I would survive my freshman year.
If I was being completely honest with myself, it wasn’t just the last few weeks of school that had passed quickly; the last five months seemed to escape me as well. The last time the world hadn’t felt like it was spinning at neck-breaking speed was back in December.
Everything seemed to happen so fast after Christmas. How was it possible Jackson and I had been together for five months? It seemed impossible so much time had passed. I could still remember how exhilarating it’d felt when I’d, first, discovered that he actually liked me the way I liked him, and, second, how amazing it had been that first time he kissed me. Incredibly, it still felt just as amazing when he kissed me; I couldn’t imagine it ever feeling less than perfect.
Also, hadn’t it just been yesterday when Mom and Dad told us that Mom was pregnant? In the two months since, she’d developed a visible baby bump. I was sure it hadn’t been there a couple of weeks ago, or maybe I just hadn’t noticed. I used to always think it was my job to notice these things. Apparently, I’d been shirking my observational responsibilities.
Honestly, the time leap left me feeling baffled. Rationally, it all made sense. I could remember something significant from each of the last five months. It just felt like it all happened way too fast. “Time flies” felt like such a gross understatement.
On Thursday morning, the last day of school, I woke to chaos. Skylar was still in the bathroom, presumably primping, and Luke was in the hallway, banging on the bathroom door.
He took one look at me with my clean clothes tucked under my arm and shook his head. “You’ll have to wait. I’m next. Assuming Skylar ever gets out.” He glared at the door. “I don’t know why she even bothers. She always comes out looking the same anyway.”
Even though I tended to agree, I was too tired to care. I just wanted a shower and some breakfast. I had two finals to face when I got to school, one of which was American Lit, and if I had to face Miss Barkley before noon I needed my strength.
I had no idea why Skylar was so concerned with her appearance anyway. She was just getting ready for graduation practice. It wasn’t as if there was any need for her to look spectacular. I dreaded the thought of what she would be like on Friday, the night of her graduation. I’d have to get up at the crack of dawn just to take a shower before Skylar took over the bathroom.
Yawning, I made my way down the hall to my parents’ door. I knocked and waited until Dad said, “Come in.”
I pushed the door open and found Dad sitting up in bed, reading the morning paper. He looked odd sitting there in his pajamas. Even though three weeks had passed, I still kept expecting to find him dressed in a suit. A tiny bit of the scar on his chest peeked out above the top button of his pajama top. It was slowly fading, but it still made me feel uncomfortable whenever I saw it because it served as a permanent reminder of his brush with death.
Dad had spent his first week home camped out on the couch, but after he started physical therapy and worked up his strength, he managed to make it upstairs. It was still often a slow journey up and down the stairs, and he still napped on the couch most days because it hurt his chest climbing the stairs too often.
His color, at least, had returned, and he no longer looked weak and frail. He was a far cry from his previous strength, but it was his personality that seemed to be the most modified.
“Your father is even chattier than you these days,” Mom joked one evening after Dad had retired early for the night.
It was true. Every day since he’d been home, I’d had at least one real conversation with Dad. He was even the one to initiate the conversation most of the time, and the same went for Luke and Skylar.
At first they’d seemed a bit weirded out by it, but they’d slowly embraced the change. Even though it felt weird talking to them about day-to-day life, I realized maybe I wasn’t alone in wanting our parents to pay more attention. After all, even though parents are basically required to love us, it was nice when they showed interest.
“Skylar’s hogging the bathroom,” I explained to Dad. “Can I use your shower?”
“Sure,” he smiled, sitting down his paper and pulling back the covers. “I was just about to go down for breakfast anyway.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I smiled, suppressing a yawn, as I crossed the room and went over to the bathroom door.
The warmth of the shower felt amazing, but I was sure Luke wouldn’t be pleased when he wound up taking a lukewarm shower. Still, at this point, he’d just be lucky to get into the bathroom at all. The bathroom door was still closed when I passed it on my way to my room. I felt gross because I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet, but it seemed I’d have to wait until after breakfast. Surely the bathroom would be free by then.
Downstairs, Skylar was at the table, ticking off a list of things she and Mom still needed to get for her graduation party on Saturday. I rolled my eyes and dug into the plate of bacon and eggs Mom had set out for me. It was usually one of my favorites, but it tasted a bit off because it was egg substitute and turkey bacon. It wasn’t bad; it just wasn’t as good as usual.
Mom was slowly trying to ease us all into eating healthier. Dad needed it for his heart, and she was concerned about the baby. None of us were particularly thrilled with the change in diet. Skylar about flipped her shit when Mom told her, “No more
junk food. That means no more Ho Hos.”
“How about Lean Pockets instead of Hot Pockets?” I tried, hopefully.
Mom appraised me. “We’ll see.”
When Luke came downstairs, he glared daggers at Skylar. She seemed oblivious as she continued to rattle off a list of party décor. Dad just looked amused while Mom seemed a little annoyed. I was sure that was due to stress. Besides work, she was running Dad back and forth to therapy, sorting out paperwork so Dad would get paid leave from work, and trying to get everything ready for Skylar’s graduation party.
In truth, we tried to help Mom as much as possible. I had kitchen duty, preparing dinner and doing the clean up most nights, and Luke and Skylar would take Dad to therapy on the nights when they didn’t have to work. Today, though, Skylar just seemed so ridiculously excited about her graduation party she’d failed to notice Mom’s stress.
Skylar was talking about streamers when I went upstairs to brush my teeth, and when I came back downstairs Luke was waiting for me by the door.
“You ready to go?”
“Sure.” I had to ride with Luke because Skylar didn’t have to be at school until nine, which only made her bathroom hogging all the more annoying.
“Good,” Luke grunted. “I don’t think I could listen to another minute of talk about balloons and streamers.”
When I got to school, Jackson was waiting by my locker. “Hey,” he smiled as I gave him a peck on the cheek. “Ready to tackle your last two finals?”
I groaned and elbowed him out of the way so I could get into my locker. “Ugh, I don’t even want to think about it.”
Jackson smiled. “Look on the bright side. Only two more and then you’re home free for the rest of the summer.”
Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) Page 60
