Burn Out *18+*

Chapter 14

I took Alistair's words to heart and realized how selfish I had been. I called my dad the next day after my college classes and he sounded relieved to hear my voice and even more relieved when I invited him over to supper. He showed up with three bags out take out from the local food shop that specialized in East Coast donairs and craft poutines. It would have been sweet if his eyes weren't so blurry.

"Hey," I said, moving out of the way for him.

He hustled in almost frantically.

"Are you okay?"

He rubbed a hand down his face and it was then that I saw that he hadn't shaved in a few days – which was not uncommon given his line of work – and his lower lip was quivering – which was uncommon given the fact that he was my happy-go-lucky parent.

"I'm keeping it together," he admitted, then his eyes narrowed on me. "But I don't want you to try pulling that psychology shit on me right now. I know that you're studied enough psych to teach it at this point, but I don't think I could stand having you analyze me," he warned. "I know that we have been divorced for years, but that is the woman I chose to have a child with. Sure, we didn't work out, but that doesn't mean I want anything to happen to her."

"I know, Dad. Just because you couldn't be married, doesn't mean you don't love each other."

I swept in, taking the bags from my father, not even noticing their enticing smell anymore. Once the food was safely put aside, I took my father into my arms and felt him crumple against me. my sweet, kind father fell apart then. I held him tightly as he shook, tears soaking the material of my sweater.

I would be lying if I said that I didn't consider crying then. I felt like I should have broken down ages ago. My mother was gone. She could be suffering through every moment. She could be dead. Her body could be decomposing in the ocean right now, or locked in some dark underground cell where no one would ever find her. The person that I had looked up to my entire life, the person that I mimicked in almost every way, was gone. I deserved to cry.

But all I could think about why I held my dad was that he was crying over a woman who wouldn't bat an eye if their roles had been reversed.

Regardless, this was my father, and having someone around was comforting. After a few minutes, he was able to wipe his tears and smile at me a little timidly. "Look at me, I came here to check up on you and you end up taking care of me," he said.

"We are going to take care of each other," I suggested gently. Because, even if I wasn't going to sob into my hands and shake with grief, a part of me needed my dad too. It had become a lonely world in short time, and even Alistair had his parents to lean on all those years ago. Besides, who could turn down fresh donairs?

We curled up on my couch with Inkwell dawdling between us. For someone who claimed to dislike cats, my father was more than tolerant when Inky rubbed up against his arm, seeking the attention that I was clearly not providing. The donairs would have been enough to fill both of us up, but as the worry and anxiety ebbed away, our appetites came back and we were able to pick at our poutines as well.

"How are you doing money wise?" he asked.

I blinked once, startled. The reality was that I had already taken a big chunk out of my savings. My rent was not cheap considering my location and the fact that everything in my apartment was renovated to perfection. My insurance for my car had also been a big hit that my mother often covered.

"You don't need to worry about me," I said with a grin that felt far too forced.

"As your parent, it is kind of my job."