What I Should Have Done ✓

Chapter 2

My phone rang as I was in my room doing homework—fine, trying to—while The Early Republic was still on my mind. My dad and I were close, but he only occasionally checked in on me. Most of the time, he'd leave me to tend to my business and I appreciated the trust.

"Hey, Dad!"

Pinning my phone in between my ear and my shoulder, I rummaged through my closet to pick my outfit for the following day. It was an evening ritual of mine to mentally prepare for the next day. It helped me sleep better, plus it saved me time in the morning.

"Hey, Peanut," he greeted, "how is your first week of classes going?"

A pair of light blue high waisted jean shorts and a red and white striped crop top caught my eye while telling him my classes seemed interesting so far. I was looking forward to Social Psychology in particular.

"How's your room? Is it as good as you'd hoped?"

"It's fabulous. Jessica is a first-year counselor this year—that's an RA for freshmen—and not even her room is as nice as mine. I'll send you pictures later."

"Sounds good. RA sounds like a perfect job for Jessica."

It was. If she cared for the kids half as much as she cared for her friends, they would be the luckiest first-years at the college. She also had a good reputation, was involved in the commons affairs, and was the best role model the girls could have had, including myself.

Some of Jessica's kindness and trust in humanity would have served me well sometimes. I had a tendency to judge people harshly and rashly. Which reminded me—

"Oh, and Dad, another thing. You know how jocks are the worst, right?"

The closet door clicked shut and I switched the phone to my other ear.

"I played baseball in high school and trade school," he defended himself.

"Exactly. So you know that they're the worst."

His enunciation changed as if he were smirking. "So you tell me."

The events of the previous class leading up to the call of order from the professor didn't seem to impress Dad much. He made an uh-huh noise, even at the part where John had taken responsibility and stood up for me.

Not the reaction I was looking for. "Isn't that incredible?"

Dad was silent for a second. "Isn't that common courtesy?"

"Ugh, Dad. Of course it is. But the point is, jocks are neither common nor are they courteous. Except for that guy, though he's definitely not common."

"How so?"

I bit the inside of my cheek. How devilishly handsome my classmate was had no place in this conversation. "Forget it."

"Was he perhaps flirting?"

My face scrunched up in distaste. "No. He's an athlete, I'm not in his orbit. He's not in my orbit. And even if he were, I don't think I'd be talking to you about it. No offense."

"None taken." He chuckled. "I guess I'm too old to understand this teenage-like drama."

"Hey, college is serious enough. Anyway, the class is The Early Republic, right? Now guess what this guy's name is."

"Um... I don't know. George Washington? Ben Franklin?"

"Close. It's actually, seriously, legitimately John Jay. I'm waiting for someone to comment on it, or for all heads to turn toward him every time the historical first Chief Justice is mentioned."

"You seem to be thinking about this person an awful lot."

"No, I'm not." I scoffed. "Only about his name. Let me enjoy myself! I won't get a lot of joy from the amount of coursework. The professor is having us read one book a week. I'll be nothing but skin and bones when I get home for Thanksgiving in the fall because I will have had to skip meals to finish all the readings."

"About Thanksgiving." Dad's voice became more serious. "Your mom would like for you to spend it with them this year."

My mother, to whom I had not talked in months and whom I had not seen in even longer, wanted me to spend the holidays with her and her new family?

"She does realize Thanksgiving is a family festivity, right?" Bitterness dripped from my voice in thick, syrupy blobs.

"Grace."

"Dad."

"You haven't seen her since, what, last summer?"

"I saw her this summer when they stopped by on the way to Acadia."

"I meant for more than two hours. And plus, don't you want to see Elsie again?"

"But Dad—Thanksgiving's always been our thing, you and me and Grampa, enjoying a quiet night of my mediocre cooking. I even pull myself together and don't even whine about that antiquated Trivial Pursuit that I cannot possibly ever win but that you two insist on playing every year."

"It's always been our thing? I don't know when your memory starts, but we used to celebrate Thanksgiving together with your mom and Elsie."

"Before she left."

"Before we separated," Dad corrected.

I wasn't convinced.

"Look, Peanut, obviously I would love to spend Thanksgiving with you and Grampa again and eat roasted chicken because you don't trust yourself enough not to screw up an expensive turkey that vegetarian you wouldn't be eating anyway."

"Then let's do that," I pleaded.

"I don't know why you're holding onto that grudge against your mom as if it were dear life. I think it would be a good idea for you to see her some more and to realize she's not a monster. And neither is your sister, by the way."

I grunted in response, signaling to him that I was done discussing this. He sighed on the other end of the line.

"Dad, I'm not mad at you, but I gotta go. Homework."

He sighed again. "Alright, Peanut. Think about it. I'll talk to you soon."