Shattered

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Shattered Page 17

by Pamela Sparkman


  Damn. I didn’t know love could feel this way. Now that I do know, I never want to go back to the way it was before. And I don’t even care if love looks stupid on me. I’ll wear it proudly.

  I decided to call Maggie. Today was Saturday, January twenty-fifth, the day she was going to see her father. I knew it was going to be hard, and I felt it was my job to be there for her. I knew I wouldn’t be there in time to go with her, however, I would be there after she’d seen him at least. I dialed her number and waited for her to pick up.

  “Hello?”

  “Knock knock.”

  “Who’s there?” Maggie asked with a smile in her voice.

  “Little old lady.”

  “Little old lady who?”

  “Wow, I didn’t know you could yodel.”

  Maggie laughed. I laughed too because she has one of those laughs that makes you laugh, even if you have no idea what she’s laughing about. It’s contagious. So, yeah, we’re both laughing and nothing has been said past the knock knock joke.

  After a minute, once Maggie had pulled herself together, she was able to speak. “Thank you, Joe. I needed that today.”

  “I know. That’s why I called.”

  “You know me so well.”

  “I do. What time are you going to see your dad?”

  “In a couple of hours. I’m supposed to be there at four. I don’t know if I can do this. I’m afraid to hope. I’m afraid that I’ll get over there and find out that he hasn’t changed at all.” Her voice got quieter. “I don’t know if I’m ready to be disappointed again.”

  “Sweetheart, listen to me. I think you’ll be disappointed if you don’t go. You don’t want to remember this moment as a missed opportunity. You’ll always wonder what if.”

  “I guess,” Maggie said, though she didn’t sound convinced. “Oh crap, I left the shower running when you called. I’m not going to have any hot water left if I don’t let you go.”

  “Thank you for the nice visual image you just gave me,” I snickered.

  “Oh shut up. Can I call you back when I get out?”

  “Um, I’m going to be doing inventory at the bar. I’ll call you back when I finish.” I grinned, because the next time we talked, it would be face to face. I decided to tell her, but my need to keep it a surprise won out.

  “Okay.”

  “So, are you going to see your dad?”

  “I don’t know. I still have a couple hours to think about it. Call me back when you get your inventory finished up. I’ll keep my phone on me.”

  “Okay. I love you.”

  “I love you too.”

  While the rest of the passengers boarded the plane and found their seats, I brought my phone back out to text Maggie. I felt the need to say something to her that I didn’t get a chance to say earlier on the phone.

  Joe: It’s okay to be scared. I get scared too. Like when we met and I saw your beautiful face for the first time, Maggie. I was afraid then, afraid I would like you too much.

  And then I was afraid to kiss you, because I instinctively knew that I would like kissing you too much.

  And then I was afraid I would fall in love with you.

  I fell in love with you anyway.

  So, being afraid, being scared…it’s okay. Because I’m still scared...only now I’m scared of not being there when you need me. Be afraid, baby. Just don’t be so afraid that you give in to your fear by letting it control you and keep you from moving forward.

  I love you.

  God, I love saying that. ;)

  I turned off my phone, leaned back in my seat, and stared out the window.

  See you soon baby.

  Maggie

  Soon after receiving my dad’s letter, I had contacted my brother, Caleb. Joe encouraged me to talk with my brother about it, and in all honesty, I needed his support and also, I wanted to know what his thoughts were concerning our father. We met for lunch and he informed me that he and our father had already started down the road of reconciliation about six months before.

  “I can’t believe you haven’t told me this.”

  “You weren’t ready, Maggie. I felt it was best to keep it to myself for the time being. I mean, if Dad hadn’t changed, no point in you knowing anything. You know?” He shrugged. “What would be the point? I think you’ll be surprised at what you’ll find though.” Caleb cleared his throat. “Now that he’s reaching out to you again, are you going to go see what he has to say?”

  “I keep waffling. I go back and forth with it. One minute I feel confident about going, and the next I shrink away from it.”

  Caleb looked at me sympathetically. “Yeah, I did the same thing for a while. When I decided to hear Dad out, I was glad I went. If you want, I can go with you. You don’t have to go alone.”

  “Would you really? I mean, I…I think I want to speak to Dad alone, but it would make me feel better if you could be like…I dunno… somewhere close in case…in case I need you.”

  When his eyes met mine they were smiling. “I can definitely do that.”

  So, here we are. My brother met me at our dad’s house. The rickety stairs leading to the porch had been replaced, and the outside of the house had new siding. It looked like a sunroom had been built off one side of the house, the side facing the small lake behind it.

  “Hey, sis.” Caleb hugged me.

  Feeling small and insecure, I looked around the yard, and then spotted the old dock around the side of the house. I could tell it had been rebuilt recently. The wood looked new and a small boat house had been added. From where I stood I could see the water. I thought about the fun times we had jumping off of the dock into the lake. Our parents had taught both of us to swim in the shallow water closer to the bank. In the spring we fished with red worms Caleb dug up with my dad, and in the fall Mom would drag us down there and make us lie on the dock to watch the clouds change shapes or read books to us. There was a time when it wasn’t unusual to hear the sounds of my family coming from that dock. Now it seemed eerily quiet.

  “I think I’m ready,” I said.

  “I’ll be down there checking out the new boat house Dad built,” Caleb said. “If you need me, holler. Okay?”

  “Okay. You are going to freeze to death out here though.”

  Caleb kissed the top of my head. “The boat house is pretty nice. Dad has a little space heater down there and even a television, so I’ll be good. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

  “Maggie, please come in,” my dad said timidly, not making eye contact. He opened the door wider and stepped aside, making room for me to enter the home where I had grown up.

  I felt stiff and my facial muscles were every bit as tense as the rest of my body. I moved to the center of the room and brought my arms up to hug myself, not knowing what else to do with my hands. I stood stock still, scanning the room for any signs of familiarity. The walls had been freshly painted a sage green, black and white photographs adorned the walls, and beige curtains dressed the windows. Nothing about this room was familiar. When I had lived here, after my mom left, Dad took down all the things that reminded him of her. We had cheap vinyl blinds instead of curtains, plain white walls, and he took down most of the pictures, except for the few that hung in the hallway to our bedrooms.

  I continued my evaluation of the room, paying particular attention to the furniture. The old recliner where my dad would sit and drink himself into a stupor was gone. In its place was an oversized chair and ottoman. The worn out couch had been replaced with a stylish cream colored sofa and the coffee table was new. Everything was different. Why couldn’t it have been like this when I lived here?

  “I made some coffee, and I have some pound cake. I remember how you used to like that,” my dad said.

  He made his way past me and to the kitchen. I followed behind him; I still had not spoken to him yet. The cheap linoleum floor in the kitchen had been replaced with slate tile in varying shades of ivory and beige. The countertops were now granite and all the kitchen appliance
s were stainless steel. The ugly yellow kitchen table that I used to sit at to do my homework was gone, and a beautiful dark wood table now sat in its place. On one side of the table was bench seating, while tall cane back chairs flanked the other three sides. I moved to one of the chairs and sat down.

  My dad placed a cup of coffee in front of me and a piece of cake. My stomach was in knots so I would not be eating, though I did accept the coffee.

  “I don’t know how you take it, so I have cream and sugar if you like that,” Dad said nervously.

  I reached for both, added my usual amounts, and then picked up my spoon to stir, still not saying anything. My mind was racing. Images of the past were colliding with the present and I was trying to reconcile the two. Even the man sitting beside me didn’t seem to resemble the man I once knew him to be. His clothes were neat, with no wrinkles...shirt tucked into his jeans…shoes looked new…his hair was cut short and there was no scruff on his face. I hadn’t seen my father since I left home eight years ago, and yet this man in front of me now looked younger than the one I left behind. His eyes were softer. The hard edges of his features I had recalled were now smoother, less intimidating. I didn’t know this man sitting with me now. He was a stranger to me.

  “Maggie? Are you going to say anything?”

  I brought my coffee up to my lips and took a leisurely sip, and then set it back down before answering. I took my time gathering my thoughts. These would be the first words I had spoken to my father in more than nine years, and I wanted to get it right. I wasn’t interested in starting a fight, but I wasn’t going to tiptoe around his feelings either.

  I didn’t know exactly what I felt. Well, I take that back. I felt cheated. Cheated out of the life he could have given me and, as I took stock of my present surroundings once more, I was actually a little bit jealous of the state of my childhood home now as compared to the condition it had been in when I lived here.

  At last, I met my father’s eyes. “I guess I don’t know what to say. On one hand I’m glad to see all the improvements, not just to the house, but to you as well. On the other hand, I feel like I was robbed of a normal childhood because now I know you were capable of giving me that, but for some reason chose not to. So, I have mixed feelings.”

  “I understand that and–”

  “Do you?” I asked, cutting him off. “Because I don’t know how you could. You shut me out of your life…stopped talking to me when I needed a father the most. I had no one. My mother didn’t just walk out on you. She walked out on me too. And you were no better than she was. At least I didn’t have to look at her every day while she pretended I didn’t exist. You I had to see every day, and every day it was like a knife to my heart. She wasn’t the only one who abandoned me. You abandoned me too, and now I don’t know what to do with that.”

  My voice cracked and I was fighting the battle to show my dad how much he had hurt me, and not wanting him to know just how much he had hurt me at the same time. It was both confusing and infuriating. I didn’t want to give my father any more than he deserved. The problem was that I wasn’t sure what he deserved. My mind and my heart were at odds with each other as I tried to find middle ground between the two.

  I had buried these feelings a long time ago, and I was unnerved that they were being brought back to the surface after all these years. I felt heavy and burdened sitting here with him now.

  “Why?” I heard myself say. “Why now?”

  “Poppet–”

  “No!” I shrieked, slamming my hand down on the table. “You don’t get to call me that! You lost that privilege! Just call me by my name or don’t call me anything at all!”

  “All right,” my father said calmly. “Let me say what I need to say to you, and then you can say anything you want to say to me, but let me have a chance to talk. Okay?”

  I pushed down the urge to get up and walk out. I didn’t want to hear his excuses. I thought about what Joe had said. The text messages he had sent after our earlier conversation were registering in my head and I decided to let his words caress me. A moment of resolve formulated somewhere inside my wounded heart and I was able to tamp down the fury that had reared its ugly head. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, allowing myself to replay the time I was standing on Joe’s porch, after the wedding when he came up from behind me and pressed me against his chest.

  Breathe Maggie.

  Somehow Joe has always seemed to find the real me. The me who lived behind pretend stoicism and mouthy remarks. Joe is the only person who has been able to chip away at my glass walls and not shatter me in the process.

  Taking another deep breath, I answered my father calmly. “Fine. Talk.”

  There was a minute or two that I thought he had changed his mind. He sat across from me as silent as I had been. His lips set in a thin line, and his eyes shifted from me to the table, and then he spoke.

  “You have every right to hate me. I wasn’t a good father to you or your brother. I checked out. You’re right about that. I was so lost in my own pain that I gave up on life… on you.” His eyes flicked up from where he was rubbing his hands together and met mine. “For that I am truly sorry. There’s nothing I can do to change it, Maggie. I will never know how much I hurt you. I’m not even sure I could stand it if I did know.” A tear fell from his eye, drifted slowly down his cheek, and held on for a second or two at the base of his chin before falling to the table. “I will live the rest of my life regretting every wrong I ever did to you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. I haven’t even forgiven myself. I know I will also spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to help you understand that I did love you. I loved you then, and I love you now. I just didn’t know how to show it. I wasn’t me for a very long time. I lost myself and I buried my grief in a bottle over your mother walking out. Night after night. Day after day. I gave up, Maggie. And I wish to God that I never had.”

  He brought his hands up to cover his face. His shoulders shook violently, and loud sobs burst from somewhere deep inside of him and echoed around the space between us.

  My own face was wet from tears I wasn’t aware had fallen. My heart felt as if a fist was squeezing it from the inside while I watched my father, wracked with regret and grief, spill his apology in a way that rendered me speechless. I couldn’t lift my arms to wipe my tears, or say the words that until now, I had wanted to say. I had been prepared for a list of excuses and maybe a pathetic and sad attempt at ‘I’m sorry,’ but …I wasn’t prepared for this.

  For a while neither of us spoke. We sat together, grieving over the time we had lost, allowing ourselves to feel the pain that hung over us like a curse. If it was a curse, the time had now come to slay it and be rid of it once and for all. Conjuring the strength I knew I had, remembering everything Hayden, Joe, and Caleb had said to me, I managed to stand and make my way over to my father where I put my arms around him in an embrace. He instantly twisted around in his seat and buried his head on my shoulder. He grabbed on to me, wrapping his arms around my waist, holding on as if his very life depended on it.

  Something inside me broke and with it, a flood of pent up hurt, pain, suffering, frustration, rage, and all the fears I’d ever had, washed over me and poured out like water from a breached dam. We cried together for a long while.

  When the flow of emotions subsided, I managed to give my father what I knew he needed most of all.

  “I forgive you, Daddy. I forgive you.”

  Maggie

  I thought the apology from my dad would have been enough of an emotional onslaught for one day. I was wrong. Very wrong.

  After I went to the restroom and washed my face, Dad and I walked down to the dock to invite Caleb inside. We stood for a moment on the dock, the three of us embracing, and then we walked back up to the house. I was suddenly famished and could think of nothing else except that pound cake sitting on the kitchen table. We sat together and enjoyed the cake while Caleb and I filled our father in on what was happening in our lives.
He was thrilled that I had followed in his footsteps and chose photography as a career. He said he would love to see some of my work and I gave him the website where he could look at samples from different photo shoots I’d done.

  The conversation flowed so easily that it was difficult to believe how many years had passed by. Caleb talked about his Christmas visit with Lucy and her family and I could tell by listening to him that he was completely in love with her, which thrilled me. Dad asked about my Christmas and I told them about Nashville, my friends, and Joe. After a while we went into the living room and my father asked me to take a seat beside him on the sofa. Caleb sat in the chair across from us, leaning forward with his forearms resting on his knees.

  “There’s more,” Dad said, and then darted his eyes towards my brother, like he was expecting Caleb to lead this charge. “I, um, don’t really know how to begin.” I could tell by the look on his face this was not going to be good.

  I looked at my brother. “Caleb, do you know what he’s about to say?”

  A small nod and then those sympathetic eyes again. “Yes.” He cleared his throat. He does that when he’s nervous. “I do.”

  “Am I going to want to hear this?”

  Another nod. “Yeah, Maggie. You’re gonna want to hear this.”

  I stared at my brother for another few seconds before turning my attention back to my father. “Okay. Whatever it is, out with it.”

  Dad reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope. He held onto it at first, flipping it over and running his fingertips along the edges. He breathed out a long, ragged breath, and handed it over to me. Caleb came and sat on the other side of me and squeezed my free hand.

  “It’s from Mom,” Caleb said.

  My eyes darted from Caleb to my father, from my father back to Caleb. “What?”

 

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