On Purpose

~2~

Honestly, my dad handled the break up fine. We spent some quality time together, just relaxing on the couch. We cracked open a couple of beers and enjoyed watching some football together. It was a simple yet comforting way to bond and take our minds off things. It's moments like these that remind me of the strong connection we have as father and son, and I'm grateful for his presence and support during tough times, especially times like going through a break up.
"Can you say something?" I glanced in his direction as I spoke.
"What you want me to say? Congratulations?"
I averted my gaze from him and brought the beer to my lips without tilting it to drink.
"No...I just need some guidance."
My dad was all I had. After my mom left and married a high school friend, it has been just me and him. My mom was the reason I guarded my heart, and my dad was the reason why I had a heart to guard.
"Olly, you're twenty-five years old. How about you depend on someone else." Getting dumped on Christmas was painful, but what hurt even more was hearing my dad utter those words. I concealed the pain it caused me, but the impact of his words was far greater.
"You're joking." My voice cracked slightly, prompting me to take a sip of my beer instead of clearing my throat. At that moment, my dad's eyes finally shifted away from the screen, but only because a commercial had interrupted his attention.
"Jesus Oliver, can you take a joke?"
I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the big smile he flashed me. I knew he wasn't joking; he simply didn't want to hurt my feelings. And to be honest, it's becoming quite annoying. He only refrains from speaking his mind towards me because he believes I get easily offended. I don't. In my opinion, I'm stronger than him. I simply pretend to be hurt so that he finds his jokes and insults amusing.
"How's Christy?" I inquired, changing the subject. He let out a deep sigh and tilted his beer, so that it look like it might spill.
"She's fine, we had an argument last night, so she went back to her place. Haven't heard from her yet." I crossed my arms and placed my beer between my legs."So, we're in the same boat."
I caught a glimpse of his intense glare, capable of slicing through a watermelon in seconds.
"Hell no, I'm in a zooming boat while you're in a canoe." Successfully concealing the smile that tugged at my lips, I gazed at him.
"A zooming boat, dad, really?" He expresses his disapproval with yet another glare and shifts his gaze towards the television. I mirrored his actions, observing yet another State Farm commercial.
"So, you and Jessie are done? Ta-da? Bam? Pop? Poof? Bow? Cling?-" "This conversation is over if you're gonna sit here giving me onomatopoeias." I interrupted him.
"Ta-da isn't an onomatopoeia." I simply uncross my arms and grip the neck of my beer, which was pushed between my thighs, as he corrects me.
Smirking, I pull the bottle up to my mouth.
"It's one in my book."
I could hear my dad whispering something, but I didn't press him to tell me. I knew that if I did, I would just end up saying something right back. Right now, I needed my dad more than ever. I needed to get Jessie out of my head, to stop obsessing over every little detail. Arguing with my dad about an onomatopoeia was the last thing I wanted to do. I needed his support, his guidance, and his understanding. So, I chose to let it go, to focus on what truly mattered in that moment.
Spending time with the most important person in my life.

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"Need help with that?" I asked while dumping another dish into the sink that was filling up with water.
"Yes, it'll be a big help if you stop going around the house looking for more dishes." My dad shot at me. I smacked my hand on his back; being old, he flinched.
"I wouldn't find more dishes if you'd stop eating around the house and leaving your dish there." He turns his head and looks at me. "Shut up, Oliver," he says with a glare. I can't help but burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room. I casually make my way over to the fridge, hoping to find something to satisfy my hunger. As I open the door, disappointment washes over me. Inside, there is nothing, Na-da, Zip, pow. All I see are empty shelves and a cold, barren space. The only thing that's in there was mustard and ketchup.
"Dad, you forgot to go grocery shopping again?" He peered over his shoulder to look at me. It annoyed me that I had to shop for my own house, now I have to do his.
"You know, I hate going into those godforsaken stores," he tilts his head towards the counter next to the fridge.
"You fly, I buy. The money is right there."
I closed the fridge door and grabbed the money from the counter. I glanced at him, but he had his back turned, washing dishes.
"Next time, you're flying." I told him, trying not to smile, because I knew what he was going to say next.
"Only store I'm flying to is-" "The liquor store, I know." I finished for him as I started walking out of the kitchen.
"Want me to bring anything back while I'm gone?" I asked as I headed towards the door, wearing my worn-out Vans. His voice boomed out to me.
"Yeah, a new girlfriend."
When I heard him laugh at his own joke, I groaned in frustration and walked out.