by Gia Riley
Whether it was the comfort that came from giving something as silly as furniture a second chance to be brought back to its original splendor, or the idea of pulling a special piece out of hiding and making it shine, I saw the hidden beauty—and it satisfied me in a way a new bookshelf never could.
The next time I reach into the box, I find the bear I’ve had for as long as I can remember. I named him Lucky when I was six. Back then, I didn’t think much about it, but as I grew older, I realized his name was the exact opposite of what I was. He didn’t have to feel real pain—and for that I envied him. But as special as he is to me with his button eyes and worn nose, he doesn’t get to sit on my bed. He’s kept in the only place he’s ever lived—the closet. Should I ever end up back inside, I’ll need the comfort of my faithful friend.
So he’s not all alone, I unpack a couple dresses, and put as much as my closet can hold onto hangers. The line of clothes create a fabric shield I use to hide behind. The shield has no real purpose other than to keep me tucked away in the corner and out of plain view. In fact, for the longest time I was positive only I could make it through the barrier separating me from the outside world. It was silly to imagine the small space held any real power, but it kept me hopeful that I had something on my side for once—even if it wasn’t human and couldn’t fight any battles for me.
Once I’m finished with my clothing, I focus on the only thing I have left to unpack—my letter box. I haven’t read any of the letters from my dad since being discharged from the treatment center. Although I’ll never be able to forget the words he scrolled across each page, I’m not obsessing over every written syllable trying to decipher hidden meanings, or searching for promises that didn’t exist. Since establishing a relationship with my dad, I’m able to see his words for what they are instead of what I need them to be. Each noun, verb, and adjective strung together forms the truth. A truth that was kept from me my entire life.
There was a time I wanted to burn each letter, especially when my obsession made it impossible to focus on any other part of my life. School suffered, my relationship with Kipton became strained, and with my purging completely out of control, I lost myself entirely. I had heard about hitting rock bottom, and it was then that I knew I’d found mine. But as hard as it was to face, it saved my life. Without help, I wouldn’t have been able to stop on my own—I would have killed myself had my purging gone untreated any longer.
My phone rings, and like he knew I was holding his letters in my hands, it’s my dad.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, beauty. I’m sorry I’m calling so late. I was out of town.”
His voice soothes me, and while I’m sure his trip out of town had everything to do with recruiting, and was nothing personal, I ask him anyway. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, I just wanted to check on you. Would it be okay if I came to see your apartment tomorrow?”
I smile before I even answer. “I’d love that.”
“Great. I’ll stop by around noon.”
“Okay. I’ll be here.”
“It’s good to have you back in town, beauty.”
“It’s good to be back.”
After hearing his voice I realize how much I missed him, and how good it really is to be in the same town as him again.
Here’s to second chances.
JUST AS I FINISH DRYING my hair, the doorbell rings.
“Sophie,” Cara yells from the living room.
“Coming.” I grab the closest hair tie I can find in the bathroom, and hurry down the hall. It’s been a couple weeks, and I’m beyond anxious to see my dad again.
He’s gotten some sun since I’ve seen him last, but I don’t get the impression he’s just getting back from a vacation. “Hi, beauty.”
His warm smile encourages me, like he’s equally happy to see me. It’s the best feeling in the world when he wraps me in a welcoming hug. “Thanks for coming, Dad.” I may not be entirely used to having him in my life, but it’s clear my heart needs him.
“Have you eaten? Drew ordered cheese pizza with tomatoes on top. It’s my favorite.”
He smiles at my enthusiasm, but declines. “I’m fine right now. You kids enjoy your lunch.” He looks around the room, for what I’m not sure.
“Sophie, you want a slice?” Cara asks as she opens the box on the counter. Drew already has cheese hanging from his mouth and sauce on his chin.
“Go ahead without me, I’ll get some in a minute.”
“Okay. I’ll try and hold Drew back. He’ll eat the entire pizza if I let him.” From the looks of it, I believe her.
I turn to my dad, hoping he likes where I’m living. He was hesitant about me moving out of the safety of the dorms despite the apartment being closer to his own house. “Do you want to see the rest of the place? It’s not much, but it feels like a mansion compared to our room last year.”
“Sure. All the years I’ve lived in this town, I’ve never been in this complex before. There’s a lot more back here than I thought. And the pool looked great when I drove by.”
I smile, thrilled to have a biological parent who gives a shit about where I’m living. “I haven’t had a chance to check it out yet, but I’m hoping to use it before it closes for the season.” I gesture for him to follow me. “This is the kitchen, and you were just in the living room. We have two bathrooms which will help. I’ve shared with Cara all summer. It’s a nightmare.”
He laughs as he walks along with me. At first, I was hesitant to even mention the time I spent with the Kellers, but he assures me he’s more than okay with it. In fact, he’s glad they’ve been so welcoming to his daughter.
“This is a lot nicer than what I had in college, Sophie. You kids did a good job.”
“We got lucky. Cara knew one of the girls moving out. She put in a good word for us with the landlord. Things fell into place from there. Kipton was supposed to be staying with us too, but you know all about his job offer already.”
“Yeah, it’s a great job. I started my career the same way—teaching and coaching.”
We end the grand tour in my bedroom. He stands in front of my refurbished bookshelf, and picks up a framed picture of the two of us. “We took that picture over the summer.”
He smiles at our goofy faces. “He has a good head on his shoulders. I couldn’t have picked a better choice for you if I tried.”
“Thank you for saying that. Kipton’s really good to me, and he likes you a lot, too.” He has no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve never asked for his approval, but knowing I have it means the world to me.
A moment of silence lingers in the air as he sets the frame back on the shelf. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, and stares aimlessly at the wall. He seems a million miles away. “Are you okay, Dad?”
He exhales, and his shoulders visibly slump forward. I almost wish I hadn’t asked. The last thing I want to do is upset him after he came over to see me. But call it want you want, there’s definitely something eating away at him—and I need him to tell me.
“Sophie,” he says before pausing. Again he stares at the wall while he gathers his thoughts.
“What’s going on, Dad?”
“I’d like to say checking out the place was the only reason for my visit, but it’s not.” He sits down on the edge of my bed, and gestures toward my desk chair. “You’ll want to sit down for this.”
Before I sit, I close my bedroom door so we have privacy. As I sit in the chair waiting for him to continue, my heart thumps wildly in my chest. “Is it Mom? Is she okay?”
He runs his hand over his face and nods his head. “Yes and no.” Looking like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, I examine the tension he’s carrying around his eyes. From the looks of it, none of what he’s about to tell me can be good.
Finally, he cuts to the chase. “I talked to your mother a couple times over the summer.”
This doesn’t surprise me. I figured they still had some kind of contact after all these
years. They share a daughter—it would be hard not to communicate. But how they manage to keep their relationship a secret I’ll never know. Dean’s always had crazy good intuition. Even the best kept secret can’t slide past him. And I’m positive if he ever found out they talked, he would make them both pay for it.
“What did you talk about?” More than anything I want to know if it was about me, but I don’t have the courage to come right out and ask. Not until he gives me a clue about what has him so stressed.
“She first called at the beginning of June, and then I didn’t hear much the rest of the summer. That didn’t surprise me, so when she called the other day, I figured there had to be a reason.”
“Was it about me?”
He swallows and shakes his head, no. His face becomes more pained than it already was—and I have my answer. She could care less about how I’m doing, or where I’m living for that matter.
“She didn’t even ask about me, did she?”
“She was too worked up to ask any questions of her own. So much so that I spent most of the call trying to calm her down. The last time I saw her so upset was the night she told me she was pregnant with you. Only this time, there was no chance of that.”
“What happened after that?”
“She calmed down enough so that we could have an actual conversation. Well as much as she could given the circumstances. Dean was pretty drunk at the time. I wanted to go pick her up , but she wouldn’t let me.”
“Dean would have lost his shit if he saw you.” I’ve seen my mom during the lowest periods of her life, but now that I’m gone, I worry it’s gotten even worse for her at home. There’s nobody there to help her off the floor anymore, and there’s nobody to protect her from Dean’s drunken rage. My hands shake as I ask my next question. “Did Dean do something to her?”
“No, beauty. Dean didn’t do anything—this time. But he’s in bad shape.”
Bad shape is putting it mildly. The guy’s drunk seven days a week. “Did he get another DUI?” After the last one, mom tried taking his keys from him so he wouldn’t get caught again, or worse, hurt some innocent person on the road. But he was nastier than ever, threatening her so severely she had no choice but to assume he would go through with his promises.
“No. Nothing like that.” He pauses before continuing. “I never should have let you stay with your mother. The more I find out about Dean, the more I realize what a mistake I’ve made. It’s my biggest regret.”
“Did you know how bad it was?”
“No. She hid it all from me, and we didn’t talk regularly enough that I could see the signs. I knew they struggled with their marriage, but I never knew that included you. I trusted he was taking care of you like you were his own—especially since he didn’t know the truth.”
As hard as it is to hear how my mom could lie, that she would rather keep the truth from my dad than set me free for a chance at a better life, I believe it. We both feared Dean, but if she had just told the truth to someone, we could have escaped. Instead she pushed away the help that was offered—she chose to drown. And that’s why it’s so hard for me to find forgiveness.
“Sophie?”
“I’m sorry. Keep going.”
He reaches out and holds my hand in his. “There’s no easy way to tell you this, so I’m just going to tell you the honest truth. No sugar coating.”
“Okay.”
“Dean has cirrhosis of the liver. They finished another round of tests this week and found cancer in his liver, too. The doctors don’t expect him to last more than a couple weeks—two months at the most. There’s nothing they can do for him.”
What?
How can the man who has been invincible my entire life be dying? I slouch in my chair unable to wrap my head around the idea of him being sick let alone living his last days on this earth.
“Your mom took the news hard. Dean’s known for a little while, but kept it from her until now. He was too sick to hide it.”
“I don’t even know what to say.” Is it really possible all the years of drinking finally caught up with him? He was so strong the last time I saw him. There wasn’t even a hint of weakness. His words stung more than ever, and his fists pounded the wall with the same force as they did when I was ten. He was whole, and he seemed healthy when he wasn’t completely wasted.
Dad pulls on the arm rest of my chair, rolling me closer to him. “Are you okay, beauty? I don’t want this to cause any problems for your recovery.”
Though I hear him, I can’t force my eyes to focus on anything other than the closet door on the other side of the room. “I’ve wished him dead so many times. I wanted him gone. And now, you’re telling me it’s happening.”
All those late nights I spent sitting in the back of my dark closet wishing he would drink himself into oblivion so I didn’t have to listen to him anymore, are coming to life—only he’s going to die.
He’s going to die.
Despite how much I hate him, I don’t know what to do with this. I’ve wished for so many things over the years, and none of them ever came true. Maybe I didn’t wait long enough because for the very first time, I’m being granted the biggest wish of all—only it doesn’t feel as satisfying as I thought it would. In fact, I feel guilty. Who in their right mind would ever wish someone dead?
“I just wanted him out of my life,” I whisper. “I took it too far.”
“You’re not responsible for any of this, Sophie. None. Do you hear me?”
Standing up, I walk over to my bedroom window. Resting my hands against the pane of glass, it’s cool on the inside like Dean’s heart, but from the outside, it’s hot like his temper. And if broken, it’s sharp like the sting of his hateful words.
Is this my fault? The news doesn’t fill me with the satisfaction I thought it would. And that pisses me off. I hate the guilt I’m feeling in its place.
“Beauty, come and sit back down. You look pale.”
Shaking my head no, I continue to stare out into the grassy garden behind the apartment complex. Filled with life, it’s the exact opposite of Dean’s demise. It makes me want to punch a hole through the glass of my bedroom window, while screaming I told you so to the worthless asshole that was once my father. All the nights I cried as mom screamed warnings at him to lay off the booze, were for nothing—each going ignored like the one before. Dean’s always chosen alcohol over his family, and now, it’s chosen him.
The very thing that made him a monster is going to kill him, and all I can do is feel sorry for my own mother—for choosing a worthless piece of shit over me and ending up with nothing to show for it. All this time I wasn’t enough for her, and soon I’ll be all she has left.
“Did you tell her anything about me, Dad?”
“I didn’t think it was my place. Your relationship is strained, and the last thing I want to do is add more tension between the two of you.”
“I appreciate that. Was she mad?”
“She understood, but she wanted you to know she misses you.”
“She misses me?” I hiss. “She watched me leave with my bags packed and didn’t stop me. Do you know why? Did she tell you that part?”
“Sophie, please don’t get worked up,” he begs.
“How can I not? My Mom was on the kitchen floor begging for Dean to shut his mouth after outing her secrets. That’s what she was worried about. That’s how she and I parted ways. And then, when I had nowhere to go after I left, she stood back and let that fucker cancel the credit card she gave me years ago. The one she insisted I carry on me at all times in case of an emergency. The same one she swore Dean knew nothing about.”
I pause to take a breath, but there’s more I have to get out of my system. More that I’ve kept locked inside of me since I ran. Dad does nothing to stop me. He lets me have my release.
“I lost the only home and parents I’d ever known in the blink of an eye while she was on her knees begging him to love her. She was so certain she had enough love to sha
re with the both of us, but I was the only one capable of giving her any love in return. All Dean ever loves is himself, and as long as he’s drinking, that will never change.”
They pushed me out the door, and ended a period of my life that was slowly torturing me to my own death. Now I’m standing in my own home, and I’m so confused.
“I’m torn over whether it makes me a raging bitch that I want him to suffer so he would have some kind of idea what it’s like to live in hell.”
“That doesn’t make you anything but human,” Dad assures me.
I want to believe him.
Clenching my fists into tight balls at my side, it takes all the energy I have to keep from screaming. “They’re never going to be out of my life are they? I mean, what does she want me to do? Run to her side and hold her hand while he dies? Where was she all the times I’ve needed her?”
Dad stands in front of me and rests his hands on my shoulders. “Calm down, Sophie. Please. They expect nothing of you. She doesn’t know where you live or what you’re doing. All she knows is that you’re safe. I warned her not to push you about this—that you’ve been through enough. This isn’t your burden to carry.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I take deep breaths just as my therapist taught me. Breathe in—count to five. Exhale—count to five. It does little to ease the tightness in my chest, but I try anyway.
“It is my burden, because no matter what, she’s still my mom. As much as I want to tell her to go to hell right along with Dean, I don’t want her to suffer anymore. Now that I’ve seen what life can be like outside of the hellhole she’s still living in, I want that for her, too.”
“You have a good heart, Sophie. It amazes me how selfless you are.”
“That’s either a blessing or a curse.” Right now, I’m positive it’s a curse.
“Your phone’s lighting up, it must be on silent.”
Glancing at it, I see it’s Kipton. He should know what’s going on, but I can’t answer when I’m like this. He’d freak out and drive right back here.
“I can wait in the living room if you want to answer that.”
