Fireworks

35

The shock must be written all over my face, because he says, "I know, I know. It's not fair of me to spring this on you right now, but I just wanted to let you know that I'm... I'm getting better, and I plan on talking with your mother about working something out soon.  My apartment is nice, I swear, and I've been cutting back hours at work.  I haven't had a drop of alcohol since the last time you had to pick me up. Will you just think about it for me? We haven't been fair to you, and I want to make things better. While I still can." he says.

For the first time, I look at my dad and see how desperate he looks. He's well put together, more so than he has been since before Colton died, at least, but there's a sadness in his eyes I haven't really noticed, and his hair and sideburns are greying.  

I feel words clogged in my throat, and I clear it quickly.  "Uhm," I start, blinking.  "You're too hard on yourself, dad.  Don't think you have to do anything to apologize for what happened.  None of us were prepared to lose him." I say in a hopefully reassuring manner. 

He shakes his head and his eyes soften.  He puts his large hand against the side of my head, cupping it, and says, "You don't have to take care of anyone anymore, Hadlee.  I want to take care of you.  This isn't coming from a place of guilt.  At least just think about it, yeah?" 

I mutely nod, and he pulls me into another hug. 

I leave the half-full venue and stumble my way outside.  The sun is almost done setting now, and the sky is painted with deep shades of pumpkin and magenta, the first nice sunset I've seen in a while.  I fill my lungs with the fresh outdoor air, but it's heavy with humidity.  

I have to pause on the bench a few dozen yards from the entrance and calm myself down.  I didn't realize I was crying until now.  How long had I been crying? 

My hands shake as I bring them to my face and carefully wipe under my eyes.  I'm actually wearing makeup today since I was on stage, and I didn't want it to get noticeably streaky.  I swallow thickly, and try to take deep breaths.  I lean my head over my knees in hopes to dissipate the dizziness and shallowness of my breathing.  

I'm so confused with myself.  I want to live with my dad.  I really really do, I realize.  If he says he's changed, that he's trying to get sober, I believe him.  It's such a commendable path to walk.  And the way he apologized - it was the closest any of us have come to talking about Colton since he actually died.  But if I accept his offer, my mom will live all alone in the big house with no one to make sure she eats or pass by on her way in and out of the house.  I can't do that, she's still working through her grief, she needs me- 

"Hadlee?" 

I jerk my head up and quickly wipe my eyes before searching for whoever it is that called my name.  

I feel my face contort in confusion.  "Arlo?" 

He's crossing the parking lot, concern written all over his face.  "Are you okay?  I've been calling you." 

"Oh, I didn't realize," I say, standing.  "I thought you left with the others to head towards Isa's?" 

He reaches me and, to my surprise, takes my arm gently in his hand before guiding me back to the bench and sitting down beside me. His brow is still creased with worry. "I drove separately, I was waiting for you to come out," he explains, eyes glued to mine.  

"Oh," I say dumbly again.  "Why?" 

He studies my face for a moment before bringing his right hand up, clutching a small bouquet of roses.  His voice is quiet when he says, "I had these for you, and I never got to tell you how well you played.  I... I haven't ever heard the piano played like that before.  It was beautiful."