"Are you sure you're ready for today?" Parker asks, his eyes worriedly raking over my reflection in the mirror as I nervously straighten my blouse. "If it's too much, we can call and cancel. Or even just reschedule so you have more time to prepare."
My hands suddenly stop their task of smoothing the fabric of my already perfect shirt, my gaze meeting his in the glass. I clear my throat lightly, forcing the lump that suddenly lodged itself there to move out of the way and answer, "As much as I want to delay it... indefinitely... I think this reunion is long overdue. It's been more than four years, Parker; this is my opportunity to get closure."
Nodding slowly, Parker lets out a long exhale before the corners of his lips turn upwards into a soft smile. "Whatever you wanna do, Sunshine, I'll be here to support you, no matter what happens," he assures, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. I can't stop myself from melting into his touch; even after all these years, he still knows exactly how to make me fall for him all over again. "Are we still meeting up with Ash and her new boyfriend tonight?"
An excited squeal escapes me without my permission, my head nodding frantically against Parker's chest. Apparently, my newfound exhilaration is amusing to him, as it draws out a hearty chuckle. Turning my head to look at him over my shoulder, I reply, "I can't even wait to see her!"
My giddiness fades as I approach the cafe, a heaviness settling into my chest with every step closer. If I were still the old Morgan, I'd probably be running away right now. With a deep breath, I push the door open, involuntarily wincing at the sound of the tinkling bell as I do so. My eyes scan the crowded room until they land on a familiar face. I practically have to force myself to walk toward the table, mentally convincing my body to move until I'm standing before the very reason I'm here today.
"Hi, Dad," I greet quietly, trying my best to suppress my raging nerves.
He visibly startles, his head jerking back unexpectedly and his gaze darting to meet my face. There's an awkward silence that lingers between us for several seconds before he corrects his posture and gestures to the chair across from him. "Would you like to sit, Morgan?" he asks. Everything about him in this moment seems nervous and unfamiliar; this man before me is nothing like the father I once knew. The stubble on his face and the bags under his eyes inform me that he's likely been incredibly stressed recently, possibly even overly exhausted. His clothes don't fit like they typically would; they're much baggier than how I remember seeing him dressed.
Quietly, I say, "Thank you," before taking the offered seat, folding my hands awkwardly on the table as I continue to take in the sight of him. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can utter a single word, I blurt out, "Are you okay?"
My dad seems entirely surprised by my question if his wide eyes and gaped mouth are anything to go by. I completely understand if that wasn't quite the conversation starter he had been expecting; I hadn't given it any thought before the question left my mouth, either. Absolutely everything about this meeting differs from the visions I'd had in my head since my father had called me to arrange it.
"I..." he begins before clearing his throat, wrapping both hands around his steaming coffee mug. No more words are exchanged between us for several moments, and I start to wonder if this entire situation had been a bad idea. "I think I should be the one asking you that," he finally says. "How are you, Morgan? It's been... Well, too long."
I nod slowly, debating with myself how to best answer his question. A warm smile forms on my lips as I realize that I've actually been okay. Better than okay, honestly. "I'm good," I tell him truthfully, that curve in my lips growing as I pour out the significant events of the last few years to my dad without hesitation. He listens intently as I speak, grasping onto every word as it leaves my mouth, which only encourages me to tell him more and more. When it finally dawns on me that we've spent the entirety of our conversation on myself and that my dad had so easily dodged my first question, I immediately stop talking. "So?" I prompt expectantly. "Are you? Okay, I mean."
Dad sighs, rubbing his palm over his face before finally responding, "I'm as okay as I can be, I suppose." I stare at him silently, hoping that he'll take the hint and continue, that he'll explain himself without me having to actually verbalize the question. After fidgeting helplessly for several moments, he says, "I regret the way I reacted back then. I know that you and your mom needed me, and I... Well, I didn't know how to cope with everything. I should have handled it better, but I... didn't know how."
"Dad," I begin, but he holds up his hand to stop me.
"It was... God, Morgan, I can't even explain it," my dad continues. "Knowing that I almost lost you... That you were suffering so much right under my nose, and I didn't even notice. What kind of a father can't see when his little girl is struggling with something so big like that? I couldn't..."
"Hey," I interrupt him, my hand unconsciously reaching for his on the table. "You can't blame yourself." My dad gives me a small smile and glances away from me as tears begin to pool in his eyes. "If there's anything I've learned over these last few years, it's that we can't always control what happens to us or around us. And we can't blame ourselves for things that aren't our fault. That... That wasn't your fault, okay? I really need you to understand that, Dad. Besides, life turned around for me, you know?"
As his tears finally begin to fall, my dad's lips spread into a wider grin, his eyes scanning my face as I stare back at him sincerely. "You've really grown over these years," he says, his eyes shining with emotions. "I'm so proud of the woman you've become, Morgan. You have no idea."
I can't stop my lips from smiling or my eyes from becoming watery at his words; I don't think he has any idea how long I've needed to hear that from him. And it feels every bit as amazing as I'd always expected it to.
"So, what are your plans now that you've finished college?" my dad asks, and my eyes light up again with excitement as I prepare to gush about all the beautiful dreams I have for my future.
YOU ARE READING
Before I Go
Teen FictionI am Morgan Feldman, and I struggle with depression and anxiety. My bad days outnumber my good days and my empty days rule my life. I've created a list. A bucket list, some might call it- because my days are numbered. A list of all the things that I...