Dreams

Five

"It's either me or your father."

She leaves the front door wide open, expecting me to follow. The cab driver is unloading the bags into the trunk. Meanwhile, my mother stands at the foot of the taxi door, under the umbrella. Her eyes are on me. Her open arms beckon me to join her.

I walk as far as the doorway, before I turn around. Across the hall is my father, a solemn look on his face. He looks at me too, but he doesn't say a word. He just watches me.

Tell me to stay. Do it.

He doesn't. He doesn't do anything but look. And I feel my heart hurting, and the first tears run down my cheek. I face away from him, and step into the rain.

Mom's first instinct is to shield me with the umbrella, but I purposely avoid her and her embrace. She holds the door open for me, holding out her cover from the rain. I stomp my feet and enter the taxi through the other door.

Inside, I immediately feel the chill of air conditioning against my wet skin. Mom is looking at me through the rearview mirror. "It's for the best," she says simply. I turn away from her, and look out the window. She puts a jacket over me like a blanket, but I push it away. I don't care if I'm shivering. I don't care about anything anymore.

The driver slams the trunk down, and the engines start. This is it. My last chance to change my mind. I look back into my house.

I see my Dad standing outside, getting soaked. My hand is about to reach for the door handle of the cab until I see him hanging his head down, going back inside.

~

I stare emptily at my plate as my fork pushes the pieces of meat around. The concerning look my mother gives me only makes me angrier. She places a hand on my arm, and I'm too tired to push it away.

"Amelia, you need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"You didn't eat breakfast, you can't skip lunch too."

For the first time since arriving at the hotel, I meet her eyes. It makes me want to cry again, but I'm not going to in front of all these people. I place the utensils down, and push the plate away. "Give me the room card," I say, holding out my hand.

"Eat first."

"Mom, I don't want to. I want to sleep." She continues to look at me with that pitying stare. "Please."

Finally, she hands me the extra room card. "Thank you," I tell her, nodding courteously. I stand up and leave. On a happier day, I would have kissed her cheek. On a happier day, I would have eaten. On a happier day, Mom and Dad would have been together.

If my head and heart didn't ache so much, I'd probably be finding ways to explore this place. But right now, I could care less about the carpeted floors and the decorations. I get into the nearest elevator, pressing the button to the fourteenth floor.

The elevator stops at the third floor, and a group enters. By the looks of how they all seem to know each other, I'm guessing they're one family. I move closer into the corner, pretending to be invisible.

This family consists of a tall, round-bellied man wearing shades, a tropical shirt, and tacky shorts. He looks like a typical dad on vacation. He carries a boy still sucking on a pacifier. Beside them is the mother, a woman who is reading a travel brochure. A small girl makes faces at her daddy and he makes faces back. The sight makes my stomach twist. I try my best to ignore them.

"Mommy, why is the older girl so sad?" the little girl says suddenly, tugging on her mother's skirt.

The mother gasps, and turns to me. "Please excuse her."