I Told the Stars about You

Chapter 9 - Paintings

Mum didn't talk about her feelings. Or her memories. Or her failed relationship with my dad. Or her failed relationship with me after Cass died. Ever. So, when I arrive back home at 9pm, an hour before the start of Rose's birthday party, my jaw drops at the sight in front of me.

My mum and dad sitting at the dinner table together, laughing over a glass of wine and some stale crackers with blue cheese. I could swear the cheese wasn't blue when we bought it. But cheese can't go off, can it? As I go through this ridiculous question in my head, to avoid the reality I have to face, they both turn to stare at me, confused as to why I am here. Like this isn't my house. Like I haven't lived here and bought the stuff and cleaned the rooms and kicked out men in mum's bed. Like I don't have a room down the hallway to the right.

"Sweetie, you're home early" My dad doesn't contradict her. Because it's totally normal to come back from school this late. He's probably just as drunk as her.

"It's 9pm"

"I know, honey, but Aiden came over 5 minutes ago to take you to the party early, some new girl's birthday, is it? Roselyn, he said?" I couldn't speak. I was too shocked that Aiden had shown up, for me "Anyhow, Aiden thought you must have already headed out after getting his text"

She sits there, impassive, waiting with questionable patience for me to explain. My phone has been off, with the rain and Rose and the stars and her story, I didn't even think of checking it. With a dry, raspy throat I clear, I force a lie out my mouth "I got it. I was at the gym, lost track of time. I'm cleaning myself up and then heading out"

They both nod, my dad suddenly interested "You still playing ball, right, Kid? You know it's good for the scholarships" I nod, too confused to do anything else, to elaborate or think, because I'm having to focus too much on telling my legs not to run to the other ends of the earth, away from this man that called himself a dad but never listened, was never there when it mattered. All I remember is Cass telling me how sad she was she'd never get to do art because Dad wanted her to be a pilot. To pay off his debts.

Then he wanted me to be a basketball player, to fulfil his dream. The one he could have had had he not gambled away precious money he could have invested. He made mistakes, and he stopped the gambling, thank goodness. But as I look at him now, I realize he never did anything to fix them, he expected others to fix his mistakes for him. Suddenly, I have to resist the urge to smash everything in this kitchen until the memories disappear. Until I find that emptiness again.

"You suddenly care a lot, Dad" I say it with enough spite that he can't pretend to ignore it. But mum doesn't say anything. Not to me, or him, which is a change.

Jacob looks at me angrily for a second, as if blaming me for all the past mistakes he's made. As if blaming me for every woman he slept with when he snuck out late at night. Or when Cassie died and he didn't show up at the funeral. But his face changes so fast another may wonder if they imagined the exchange. I know better. This new face is his mask. We all have one. But the best of us don't have to show it.

"Well, Son, It's the last time I'll see you for quite a while" Mum sips on her wine so calmly, not meeting my gaze as my dad, Jacob, pins me in a stare "You see, your mum and I have decided it's best if we go our separate ways." He doesn't even flinch. The man has the audacity to sit here as if he were planning his next business trip. "It's been a couple of weeks to get the paperwork done, but we're officially divorced. Gale-" Gale, not Gigi. Not Gigi like he'd call her when he made her dinner or Gigi like he'd whisper in her ear when he kissed her in the hallway. Or Jess like she'd always be when Cass was around. When he tried to be better for her. Gale. "She will keep the house, as she will be legally in charge of you. And I will keep the money your sister had saved and right to all her personal belongings-"