Stuck in the Moment

by Tracie Puckett

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  An hour later, there were two light taps on my door, and I perked up.

  Dad poked his head into my room. “Dinner’s on the table.”

  And just like that, he was gone again.

  Shock paralyzed me, and I couldn’t figure out why. Was it the fact that he was inviting me to leave my room, or that he wanted to share a meal at the table for the first time in two years? Either way, I hadn’t expected this kind of ending to my sentence, so I hopped off my bed and headed for the door.

  I made my way to the kitchen a few minutes later, hesitant with each step I took. My father was seated in the chair he’d once sat in for every family dinner, and there was a plate laid out in my place. Chinese carry-out boxes covered the table between us, and I smirked because I didn’t know what else to do.

  It wasn’t exactly a three-course home-cooked meal, but it was effort.

  Or at least I hoped it was.

  Doubt clenched through me.

  Was this a real effort at calling a truce, or was this just some kind of ploy? Was this his way of lulling me into a false sense of security before ripping my still-beating heart from my chest? Was he still angry with me over what happened Friday night? Was he mad that my friends had bombarded him the way they had? Would he hold me responsible for what they did, something I had no control over?

  I sat down, trying to keep an open mind about his motives, but I was skeptical. What was his angle?

  “You can return to school tomorrow,” he said, looking down to his plate, focusing on his food to distract himself from the stare I held in his direction. “You can stay out until seven, as normal, but no visitors.”

  I tried not to smile; no visitors was supposed to be a continued punishment, I’m sure, but I rarely had visitors anyway, so it wasn’t that harsh. With the exception of a quick drop-in or a study group, my friends didn’t swing by often. Dad’s silence and gruffness always made their visits uncomfortable, so I usually visited them to avoid the awkwardness, which could now continue since he’d granted me freedom again. And I had my seven o’clock curfew back! I never thought that curfew could make me so happy.

  “So how are the plans for Carter’s party coming along?” he asked, glancing up from a box of white rice.

  “Oh, . . . ” I swallowed hard. “I’ve been out of touch. I don’t know.”

  “Right.” He shook his head as if to mentally slap himself for such a ridiculous question.

  “I’m sure they’re on track,” I said, encouraging the conversation. “Last week we’d hit some snags, but we got through it. It came together. It always does.”

  He nodded. “Your mother used to say stuff like that.”

  “She was right. Every party comes with its own set of obstacles.” I refused to point out that one of the major obstacles I’d dealt with lately had come in the form of the adorably perfect boy he’d probably wanted to murder on Friday night. “We just have to figure out the venue now, and I’m sure we’ll be good to go.”

  “I thought you were using the barn?”

  “Oh,” I said, shocked by his assumption. Because yes, that’d been true all along. But my usage of Mom’s barn had come hand-in-hand with the agreement that I wouldn’t step a toe out of line, and since he’d grounded me on Friday, I’d just assumed my punishment came with the clear understanding that The Red Barn was off limits from here on out. “We can still use it?”

  “Of course you can, Ally,” he said, his words quiet but sincere. Of all the things he could give me, he was giving me what I wanted most—The Red Barn. At least for one night. But why? Why had he suddenly caved and allowed me the freedoms, the rewards, the things I wanted most?

  What was he up to?

  I wanted to ask him, because I was skeptical now more than ever. But just as I started to open my mouth, Dad posed another question, as if eager to keep the conversation from dying out.

  “And the girls,” he said, picking at his food. He hadn’t even taken a bite yet. “I haven’t seen them in a while. Roz is . . . ”

  “A spitfire, yeah,” I said. “Sorry she called you an asshat.”

  “Probably deserved it,” he admitted and managed the faintest smile. “And how’s Mel holding up . . . since the whole—”

  “She’s better,” I said, hoping to skip the topic of Kyle’s accident. I never liked talking about it, because any death reminded me of Mom, and thinking of Mom was always a certain path to sadness. Sadness led me back to Mom, and it was a vicious cycle—one I didn’t feel like hopping on tonight.

  “Good, I’m glad.”

  Dad and I sat in silence, eating despite the awkward tension.

  We hadn’t even said much to this point, and yet this was the longest conversation we’d had in two years. Maybe longer.

  As the minutes ticked on, Dad never mentioned Jasper or what happened on Friday night, but I kept waiting for the moment he would finally demand an explanation.

  It never happened. We made it through an entire meal—our first meal together in . . . forever. There was little to no eye contact, but we survived without shutting each other out, and that seemed promising.

  “How’s your wrist?” Dad asked, finally looking up to meet my stare.

  “Oh, it’s nothing,” I promised, waving my hand, but his eyes filled with tears, threatening to turn into a sob at any given moment.

  “Ally, I didn’t mean to—”

  “I know.” I reached across the table. I squeezed his hand, assuring him that I knew. There were no hard feelings, and I would never hold it against him. He had to know that. I understood. All he’d wanted was to pull me away from Jasper, and he’d never meant for it to happen like that. It’d all happened so fast, and in the heat of the moment, he made a snap decision. We were all guilty of doing things we wish we hadn’t done.

  “I’ll get the plates,” Dad said when I started cleaning up. “You can go on. Go have fun.”

  I looked to the clock. I only had one hour before curfew, so it’s not like I had much time to go anywhere or do anything. I’d be better off sticking around here for the night, getting some sleep, and being well rested for my first day back to school tomorrow.

  “Thanks for dinner,” I said, starting out of the kitchen, but something compelled me to stop. A startling realization hit me square in the gut, halting me in place.

  Maybe Dad hadn’t mentioned Jasper because he wanted me to mention him first.

  His sudden kindness, his gentle approach, his attempt at conversation . . . was it Dad’s way of trying to get the facts without jumping to conclusions? Possibly, but it was completely out of character. It was something he never did.

  Was it possible that he was changing, taking a different approach to this whole parenting thing? Was it something Mel said? Had the visit from my friends actually made some kind of difference?

  I could see it in the way he watched me just then—the way his eyes softened, pled with me not to shut him out. Lucy had always shut him out, and look where that got them.

  I closed my eyes, trying to repress the memory of the night I last saw my big sister, but the memories flooded back against my will.

  She and Dad had fought for hours. Screamed and cried. Yelled and screamed some more. He’d done a remarkable job of pushing her away, and when she left that night two years ago, she never looked back.

  Not even for me.

  Back then, that part hurt the most. We’d only had each other, the three of us, and she left us to fend for ourselves like we were nothing but an afterthought. And maybe not even an afterthought! I can’t be sure she ever considered what would happen to us if she left.

  I would’ve been there for her. I would’ve helped her. Dad would’ve calmed down, and when he did, he would’ve been there, too. We could’ve stuck together, been the family we were supposed to be, even if Mom was gone.

  But Lucy left, and in the long run, I’d realized her absence was probably the best thing that could happen to our family. It’
d just taken a long time to realize it. She was hurting Dad more than she was helping him.

  I didn’t want to repeat her mistakes. I wouldn’t. If honesty was what he wanted, honesty was what he’d get.

  “Dad,” I said. I leaned in the doorframe as he rinsed off his plate, and I struggled to take a deep breath as I prepared for the hardest admission of my life. “He’s Carter’s cousin, visiting from Cedar Lake. His name is Jasper, and he’s staying next door while he’s in town. He got our invitation, so he’s here to spend time with his family, and he’s . . . been helping plan the party. Friday night looked a lot worse than it was. I know I shouldn’t have been in the barn, but the slumber party took a weird turn, and I was sad and needed space from the girls. Jasper came out to check on me—nothing more, nothing less.”

  Dad didn’t say anything. He didn’t even turn around to acknowledge that I’d said anything. He just sighed and dropped his head, and I didn’t know what that meant. I didn’t know if it meant anything at all.

  All I could hope was that my honesty had meant something. Maybe he didn’t have the full picture of what was really going on, because he didn’t need to know about my budding feelings for Jasper, but surely I’d given him enough to ease his suspicions. I’m sure he’d imagined much worse in the passing days, and I didn’t want those horrible assumptions plaguing his mind for another minute.

  I loved my dad, and the last thing I wanted was for him to fear I would repeat my sister’s mistakes. I couldn’t fathom how much it scared him to think he’d lose me the way he lost her. I understood more than he thought I did. It made sense why he’d hold on to me so tightly, but I hoped that my honesty would convince him to loosen his hold—if only a little.

  “Just so you know,” I said, standing a little taller. “Jasper’s a great guy, and I think, if you gave him a chance, you would like him.”

  “Do you?” he asked, stopping me before I could turn out. “Do you like him?”

  “I do,” I said quickly, and Dad sighed heavier than before. “I know that’s not easy for you to hear, and I’m sorry. But he’s a good guy. The best. Every day I feel lucky to have met him.”

  I felt an overwhelming sense of calm. I could sense the winds of change, and for the first time in forever, it was exciting to think there was something good and surprising right around the corner.

  Dad hadn’t given me the green light to spend time with Jasper, but at least he wasn’t a secret anymore, and that was an incredible burden not to bear. I suddenly felt a little freedom coming my way. And I desperately needed freedom.