Disclaimer: This is part of an original work of fiction. Don't steal it, or I will be very, extremely, legally mad. Thanks. Enjoy.
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When I get back to my house, Daddy is sitting on the porch, talking on his phone. Just as I walk up the stairs, he is saying goodbye and hanging up.
"You're cutting it pretty close, there, kid."
"I know," I say, sitting down on the steps.
"You know, if I hadn't been stepping out the door right when you ran past, I'd be out looking for you right now. You're lucky."
"I guess I am."
"You could have called."
I don't say anything, I just sit, chewing on my lip and thinking about what Mr.Tate was saying.
"You're a mess, sweetheart."
"I know, Daddy," I sigh, leaning back and trying to look leisurely just in case my mother rolls up just a bit early. "I don't really know what to do about it, you know? I feel like I'm completely out of control, and it sucks no matter what I do."
He pauses for a second and then clears his throat.
"That's not really what I was going for, but yeah, I can see how that's going on."
I want to ask what he was going for, but I don't. I don't know what to say, and that's so common for me right now that I just stay silent, letting my thoughts go crazy, working themselves into frenzy.
"Look, you're a teenager. You're not supposed to be in control of your mind. You're supposed to be a little insane. It's normal."
"Really? This is normal?" My sarcasm is starting to get the best of me, and I really don't want to unleash its full force on Daddy, but I feel like that's where I'm headed.
"Completely. I waited a long time for you to make the transition into a fully-fledged teenager, and you're a few years late, but I'm glad you finally got here."
"How could you possibly be glad that I'm freaking out and getting into fights and messing everything up?
"Two reasons-" he gets up from his seat and sits next to me on the step. "First, you're acting like this while you're still at home to fall back on your mom and me. It's better than doing this once you've moved out. And second, I'm just glad you're not out getting pregnant or hurting yourself."
"What do you call this, then?" I ask, pointing at my lip where I know there are still dark bruises that match the ones on my ribcage and a nasty healing gash.
"I call it amazing, because I saw that Sellers kid yesterday, and he looked worse than you," he replies, putting an arm around me for a quick squeeze just as we watch my mother's car drive up the street.
"Really?" I didn't think I'd done any real damage.
"Really. You can pack a punch."
I smile, leaning into him, even though it's hot out here in the shade and I'm still sweating from running.
"Thanks, Daddy."
"Anytime, Augie."
When my mother gets out of the car, we all go inside, Daddy and I forcing ourselves to admire her new manicure while she gets dinner ready. By the time we're almost finished eating, Daddy takes control of the conversation.
"Well, I've got some news."
"What kind of new, dear?" my mother asks.
"Okay, do you remember around this time last year, one of the old mayors from that tiny town up north croaked, and I wanted to go up to the estate and pick up some of his stuff for the auctions?"
YOU ARE READING
Tea For Two
Humor"Just wondering, Shoemaker. Are you going to tell your parents? Or should I?" When I was little, I was terribly afraid of heights. One day, in a bleak attempt to rid me of this, my father climbed onto the roof of our one story house with me on his b...
