Run Away With Me

Chapter 19 (Katherine)

The drive to the airport was a silent one. Dad brought my cell phone, so I was able to catch up on past messages. I told everyone that I was going to a student exchange program in the UK before I left.  So there's not too many messages. Mostly from Darcie and Willa. If there was any reason to be sad for leaving Kansas, they're it. Darcie and Willa were pretty much my closest friends. They were the sophisticated friends my dad pushed so hard for me to have. I wonder how I'm going to explain this to them. 

"C'mon honey, we're here." I slowly get out of the car, and grab my bags out of the trunk. The sun has set, and the sky is dark. It's got to be at least 10. Which would make it 9 back home. I turn to ask my dad the time, but remember that I have my phone. I pull it out and check the time. 9:47. I was close. 

Even though it's later, the airport is still busy. Personally, I don't like flying. I prefer driving. I know that statistically you're more likely to die in a car crash then a plane crash, but I just don't like heights. We take a seat in the lobby, waiting for them to start boarding. And another thing; airports are such a hassle! Like, in a car, you just pack up and go. You can't do that with a plane. Also, planes are more expensive. Really, cars are just all around better. But my dad would never stoop so low. 

That was how I lived. Everything was extra. We've always lived in a big house, even though we're a small family. We've always flown first class. We've always stayed in the best hotels. I would've attended a private school if my mom hadn't stepped in. But I still had many extra circulars. I took piano, ballet, calligraphy, you name it. I did enjoy that part of it. We just had so many luxuries. That's why these last weeks have been such a welcome change. Being poor for once. Maybe that sounds stupid. But for my dad, he bases things on how expensive they are. The more money he pays for it, the better it must be. That's why we always chose the opera over the movies. Always flew rather than drove. Always ate out rather than in. 

But that's not how it was, is, with the boys. They make their own fun. That day with Jack, that wonderful day. That was the most fun I'd had in a long time. And you know what? It was free. Well, except for Chick-fil-A. But the rest was free. And we had so much fun. Sometimes, I just-. I just wish I could make my dad see that, ya know? But maybe some things just aren't meant to be. 

"Now boarding, flight 107 to Kansas City. Now boarding, flight 107 to Kansas City." 

"C'mon Katherine," my dad says. I pick up my carry on, and head further and further away from what made me happiest. Now, please, don't get me wrong. I love my dad, and we've had some good times together. There's just a point in life where I have to go my own way. Where I need to make my own choices. 

I take my seat on the plane, and hold my breath during take-off. After that, I try to get some sleep. Maybe all of this will have been a dream. 

~~~

It wasn't a dream. I wake to my dad gently shaking me awake. Through my disappointment, I manage to find some gratitude that I slept through landing. I check my phone. It's midnight. Which means that it's 1 in New York. Which means the boys are all asleep. Which means they won't answer if I text. So I shove my phone back into my pocket, and follow my dad through the airport parking lot to where the car is parked. Yet another thing that is a luxury. One that I personally enjoy. 

After loading my bags into the trunk, I drag myself into the front seat. Partially out of because I'm being over dramatically moody, and partially because I am really tired. As we start the 30 minute drive back to my house, I debate whether I should try and sleep or not. My brain feels a little fried. I've finally gotten over the initial shock of leaving, but my brain is too sleep deprived to process anything. I try so hard to stay awake, but the gentle rain that begins falling lulls me to sleep. 

~~~

I wake as we pull into the driveway. It's raining harder now. I hurry to grab my suitcases out of the trunk, but I feel my dad's hand on my shoulder. 

"I'll get these. You go get some sleep." I nod, and rush inside. My bedroom looks the same as always. But a strange sense of nostalgia now lingers.I set my phone on my desk,and change into some PJ's. Then I take a walk around the room. You know that feeling when you get home from a long vacation? That's kind of what this feels like. The time I spent in New York felt like it lasted forever, but feels like a mere moment in time.

My dad comes in and brings suitcases, and I thank him. He crosses the room and approaches me.  I think he's going to scold me, but he pulls me into a tight embrace. I feel myself melt in his arms. I missed his scent. I missed his gruff voice. I missed his hugs. 

"I love you, kitten," he whispers. Kitten. He hadn't called me that in a long time. 

"I love you too, daddy." He pulls away, and nods his head toward my bed. 

"C'mon. I'll tuck you in." I crawl into my bed, and he pulls the covers over me. He starts to walk out, but I stop him. 

"Dad?" He turns to me. "Will you- will you sing to me?" I'm a little scared of his answer, but his face breaks into a wide smile. 

"I'd love to." He pauses to think for a moment, and then clears his throat. 

Edelweiss, Edelweiss

Every morning you greet me

Small and white, clean and bright

You look happy to meet me

I don't remember the last time my dad sung to me, but his voice is even more beautiful than I remember. I close my eyes and let his singing lull me to sleep.