I looked over to see confusion cloud her face. “Are you and your dad talkingmorethen?”
“Um, that would beano.”
“I’mconfused.”
“It was Julian,” I blurted out quickly, grimacing at mywords.
“Julian? Like, Julian, Julian? The cook at the diner, Julian? The guy you werejustasking about,Julian?”
“Yes!” I snapped back. “Julian Alvarado,Julian.”
“Okay. So, um, how did that happen?” She sounded less incredulous than she had a second ago, and now she just sounded like she didn’t know what to say.Ididn’t know whattosay.
“Well, I kinda snuck into his back yard and he found me outside?” It came out as a question, I couldn’t believe I was saying this and my faced burned from theembarrassment.
“You snuck into his backyard?” she askedslowly.
“Yeah, and well, I was in my pajamas and it was cold. So he brought out his blanket and it was so sweet and it felt like we hadn’t been apart all these years and I totally lost it and cried like anidiot.”
“What didhedo?”
“He held me. And he let me cry until I couldn’t cry anymore. It was amazing,actually.”
“See?” She said in a triumphant tone. “I told you a good cry is good for the soul. But, more importantly, Itoldyou Julian wasn’t the bad guy everyone, including him, would want you to believeheis.”
“I know. He’s not the same, Gwen, but it just made sense last night. But then I walked away without saying anything. And I don’t know how I’m going to look him in the face again.And,” I said in a way that made it clear we were changing the subject and I would not be saying any more. “that is the moment I realized it was time to prepare myself for the cooler weather, because I think I’m going to be staying here for awhile.”
Several hourslater and several hundred dollars poorer, I returned home from our shopping trip. The sun was beginning its descent and evening was on its way. I hadn’t meant to monopolize Gwen the way I did. But it had been so good to spend some time without any worries about what tomorrow wouldbring.
She had been a good sport through it all. I went from store to store trying to find boots, a jacket, a few sweaters and long johns. She teased me relentlessly about wanting to find long underwear to go under the many layers I was already buying, but I wasn’t taking any chances. It was late September, a time I would normally be sweating while wearing shorts and tees. Already, it was getting cooler here. I wanted to beprepared.
I bought her dinner at the food court as a thank you for all she had done for me. We talked the entire time, and I wondered how it was possible to go so long without a lull in our conversation. We had so much in common. Gwen had also, quite mercifully, avoided the subject of Julian for the rest of our time together. We talked about our favorite sci-fi shows again. It wasn’t often you met someone so geek obsessed and proudofit.
But we also talked about her classes at BSU. She wasn’t sure what she was going to school for, but was taking all the gen ed classes she could this year while living at home with her parents. We also talked about what people did for fun in River Valley when you weren’t a kid anymore. Mitch worked at the local gun club, whatever that was. And people still loved going down to thecaves.
I remembered the caves from my childhood. It was a giant cavern underground in the middle of nowhere. I think they called it a lava tube? Whatever it was, I had fond memories of going there with my dad. We would load up with flashlights and walk deep into the cave before turning them off. It would be so dark, you couldn’t see your hands, even if you put them directly in front ofyourface.
I was never scared, though, because I knew my dad was right there and wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me. I trusted him so freely back then. What had happened? I hated that when my parents got divorced, our relationship had gonetocrap.
Even after these past couple of months living under the same roof, I had no idea what was going on between us. He continued cooking meals, I continued to borrow his car. It was almost like we wereroommates.
He was the roommate I’d prefer not to see, or talk to, or thinkabout.
When I got home, I hoped I would get lucky and avoid him again. But it wasn’t happening. He was sitting at the dining room table, typing away on his laptop. From where he sat, he was afforded a perfect view of the front door. He looked up and smiled when he heard mewalkin.
“Looks like you had a successful trip, Katie-bug.” He said, nodding his head toward my bags and still using that awful nickname from mychildhood.
“Dad,” I said with the exasperation that only came from explaining the same thing to him over and over again. “I really hate that name. I’m not ten anymore. I’m turning nineteen in a few months. I own a house, for cryingoutloud!”
“I know you do,Katie,”he said, emphasizing my name and standing up from his place at the table. “You haven’t let me forget that for a moment. I’m trying my best here. I want to get to know you.” His shoulders drooped and he held his arms outstretched on either side of him with his palms face out. “Sometimes I forget you’re not my buganymore.”
“How could you forget? It’s been what, five years since you’ve seen me? Five years since we’ve talked? It’s not like that name has been flying from your lips like its second nature. You abandoned me. When I moved away, you let me go without so much as an afterthought. So you’ll excuse me if I would rather put red-hot pokers in my ears than sit and listen to you say Katie-bug one more time!” My voice had progressively gotten louder with every word of my rant until I was yellingathim.
I could feel the familiar burn behind my eyes, knowing I would start crying any second. My pride had me wanting to run to my room before he got to see that vulnerable part of me. I was still the broken little girl who still so badly wanted her dad’s approval. But there was another part of me that wanted him to suffer. To see what he’d done to his precious Katie-bug by ignoring her all theseyears.
“Katie.” His voice was low and he pressed his lips tightly together while taking a long breath through his nose. “I made a mistake. I want a chance to make itbetter.”
“Make it better?” I barely recognized the shrill sound of my voice as my own. “Make it better? Youcan’tmake it better. My mom isdead! The one parent who gave a damn about me all these years is gone. She is never coming back. And now I’m out in the middle of nowhere living with a stranger. Or maybe you’re worse than a stranger. I’m starting to wonder if it was a mistake to even come out here in the firstplace.”
