sparks

24

Dream

"Do you want me to show you where it is?" I ask him as he stands from the couch. "Its just down that hall, the very last door, you literally can't miss it."

"No, no its okay" he assures me as he moves over towards the door. "I'll be back in a minute."

I want to go with him, to make sure he finds it okay, even though you really can't miss it.

"Alright" I nod in response, my eyes following him as he heads down the hall, the door closing behind him.

My eyes stay on the door for a minute or two before I eventually twist back around to dad, a small smile on my lips. He really does seem to like George.

I lift back up a sheet of his transcriptions, still smiling to myself when I realize he's watching me curiously.

"What?" I ask.

His eyes linger for another second or two before one of his eyebrows raises slowly.

"He seems like a lovely boy" dad says quietly. "You two seem to be great friends."

I gaze at him for another minute uncertainly, my foot beginning to tap against the ground.

"Or- is it more then that?" he asks again, settling back in his chair a little more, an evident smile on his face.

My face heats, and I end up diverting my eyes to the sheets in my hands.

I never really knew what my dad would think about this sort of thing. He hasn't said or done anything that might prove he's against it, but then again, you can never be too careful.

I didn't want to tell him, I could never bring myself to tell him.

"I'm happy as long as you're happy, son" he utters, "and if he, or any other man makes you happy, and treats you well, then thats fine by me."

I outstretch an arm quickly, hugging him gently. He chuckles, and hugs me back.

"Thank you" I hush.

"No need to thank me" he mumbles, pulling away. He then pats me on the arm. "Now are you going to stop goggling after him, or go and see what he's up to? Because I can guarantee you he hasn't just gone to the bathroom."

I chuckle again, standing from my stool and stretching a little before I make after George.

"I'll only be a minute" I call quietly back towards dad.

He hums in response, taking up the papers I'd left on the side of his chair. I'm sure to keep my steps quiet as I open and shut the hallway door, then beginning to creep down the hall.

Dad was right, my bedroom door is swung open, like he isn't even trying to hide what he's doing. He's so dumb.

My first idea is to scare him, to dive out into the doorframe and shout really loudly to make him jump out of his skin. But then I see his half bent over body as he studies something settled down on my desk.

It takes a second for it to click that its that photo with mom down in Vancouver, at our cabin.

He obviously knows who it is, too, I hardly have a framed photo with a completely random woman sitting in my bedroom.

Its a pretty photo, too, one of my favourites out of the few I have framed around my room. I wonder what he thinks of her.

"Her name was Alice" I tell him suddenly, the words randomly tumbling from my mouth.