My Autumn with April

Twenty Eight

~April~

So much to do and so little time. 

Only a genius would decide to hint to her best friends that we should throw El a birthday party 5 days before Christmas, right when she's already got a million orders to fulfil this week. I was having to pull longer shifts as it was. But since El was out of town for just tonight, with no idea about his party, I had a matter of hours to do everything I needed to do. 

I had all his favourite treats to make, Marie was making savory foods, Maya and Autumn thought this whole thing was their idea though. I'd simply hinted that it sucked how close his birthday was to Christmas and that he never got to celebrate it properly and bam. 'We should throw him a non-christmassy birthday party'. I surprise myself sometimes at how sneaky I can be. Its kind of funny. 

I wanted him to have a fun birthday and since we couldn't exactly celebrate by going out for food right now, this was the next best thing. 

He'd mentioned last month that he wanted a 20 tier tall cake and whilst that wasn't going to happen, I could do him a multiple tier cake that adds up to 20 layers and do 20 different flavours of cake balls to go along with it. I knew I was setting myself up for so much work but what mattered was showing El how much I appreciated him being around and if this is the way I can do it publicly right now, then that's what I'll run with. 

"Hey honey." Dad pressed a quick kiss to my temple as I mixed the 3rd batch of basic buttercream together, ready to be seperated out and changed for the last few flavours. 

"Hey dad." 

"You got a sec?" 

"Uh-" I looked around at the mess, checking my watch and biting down on my lip at another text from El I needed to reply to before he became suspicious. As far as he knows I'm having a chilled night in with my parents whilst I've been running around this kitchen like I've lost my head. My feet ache, my back is killing me and I don't even have him here to kiss it better and that sucks but it's going to be so worth it to see him smiling like aa Cheshire cat. "Not if I want to sleep a little tonight. Sorry, what's up?" 

"Are you sure you can't spare 10 minutes? If I help you clean up some of this?" I turned my head to look at my dad, now noticing my mum stood sheepishly on the other side of him. The looks on their faces told me that I needed to take the 10 minutes they were asking for. So taking a quick breath, I nodded, leaving the mess as it was and following them down to the kitchen table. 

I shuffled in my spot, not entirely comfortable with the conversations we seemed to have at this table when it was just the 3 of us. 

"Do you want to star-" Dad looked at mum who shook her head. 

"I think you should. It'll be good for you." Dad took a slow inhale and turned in his chair so he was facing me head on. He stared at me for probably seconds but those seconds were the longest of my life. Every single possibility running through my mind as to why he looked so worried about whatever it was they had to talk to me about. 

"Pumpkin-" 

"Did you relapse?" The words fell of my tongue a lot harsher than I was trying to work them out at. I wanted it to come out softer, less like I was on the attack.

"No. That's not what this-" Dad looked over my shoulder to my mum who just urged him forward. "Honey, me and mum, we're going to move back to the mainland. We thought that coming back here and being with you would be the best way to kind of rewrite everything that's happened here. But being back here, seeing and hearing all the bitchy comments-" 

"What bitchy comments?" 

"April, let your dad speak." 

"I don't-" Dad grabbed my hand between both of his, holding them in my lap like this was a terminal diagnosis he was telling me he had. I searched his eyes, hoping that there was something in there that was going to tell me this was temporary. That he needed to do more work and he'd be back and we'd be here and I'd have my family how it's supposed to be. These past 6 weeks that I've had them both back have been the most secure I've felt in years. It's like I finally had all my ducks lines up in a neat little row. I had a career I've dreamed of, my family were finally happy, I had Elliott. And sure, the shelf wasn't exactly great but over time I'd be able to clean off the layers of grime and it would just be the ducks on a shiny shelf and everything would be fine. 

Right now I feel like it's being ripped from me all over again. This is our home. Mine and theirs. They raised me here and we had problems but they were fixing it. We are creating new, good memories in crevices where I used to cry. Walls where plates were shattered are now holding photos of us all finally happy. And you're telling me they're going to leave me here? Again? 

"I can't stay here Pumpkin. We can't even walk down the street without being harassed. I can't walk around this house without being reminded of everything I did. I - we thought that adding new memories in here would make it easier and that we could move on but all it does is make me feel bad inside and I know that I should Honey. I know that I should feel bad for what I put you and your mum through, but it's the same burning in my chest that put me in that position in the first place. I need to be able to acknowledge that Coleisle isn't good for me before it does put me back into a place where I get so low again that I turn to the worst thing I possibly can. My head is getting dark again and I don't- I don't ever want to risk loosing you both, so I need to act now before it gets beyond something I can control again." Dad swiped his thumb over the tears on my cheek. 

The worst thing right now was that I couldn't be mad. He was right in that if being here is going to make him sick again, then he needs to go somewhere that isn't. It makes sense, logically anyway. But in my heart of hearts, this hurts. It hurts that my parents won't be here. That I can't come home after a long day and settle onto the sofa with them. That drinking coffee with El and my dad on a morning before work isn't going to happen anymore. It stings. But I bite back the sadness and the anger about the alcohol ruining this for me yet again. I keep the pain and the frustration and the deep rooted sadness to myself because it isn't going to change anything. If I want my dad healthy, it's best he goes, no matter how much it tears me apart. I sniff, straighten my back and nod. 

"Uh- what- what about the house? Are you gon-" 

"You can stay." My mum jumped in finally. "You can keep the house, we've got quite a bit of savings from your Gran's inheritance so we can use that to set ourselves up wherever." 

"And, it goes without saying, you and Elliott and whoever else are welcome to stay with us whenever. I don't think we will be looking too far away really. Just on the mainland." I nodded slowly. 

"Okay. Anything else? I need to- cake." I gestured my thumb over to the other side of the kitchen and dad's face contorted slightly. 

"No. That- that was it. Do you have any other questions? Any worries? Thoughts?" 

"I don't think so." I shot him a quick smile and pushed my chair out so I could stand up and go back to what I was doing, checking my phone before I start. 

Elliott
You're quiet tonight Love.
What's going through your mind right
now?

Me
Sorry, watching films and eating 
popcorn with mum and dad
How's your Christmas shopping
going? Murdered Noah yet? 

Elliott
No but if he keeps slurping 
his hot chocolate I might need an alibi.
I was with you all weekend. Right?

Me
100% :)