Healing Takes Time

Chapter 32

Chapter 32

When I got back to the cabin, Dad was sitting outside on the stairs with his forearms on his knees and his head hanging down. I hesitated across the street, debating whether or not I should turn back around and pretend that I lost track of time, but he looked up and saw me before I could actually turn around.

We just stayed like that, me across the street, him looking at me from where he was perched on the stairs. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Who was he waiting for? The twins? Connie? Mom? Were they inside waiting for me to come home and change or something?

A cool breeze blew by, and I shivered a little bit. I didn't think ahead enough to bring a towel, and I was being an idiot by standing in the shade. I crossed the road slowly, and Dad never took his eyes off me. I saw when I got closer that he looked worse than normal. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced, and he looked like he hadn't bothered to shower yet today. Strands of his hair hung in front of his eyes, and he did little to flick it back.

"Uh... Hi?" I said when I got close enough.

He cleared his throat. "Hi."

After neither of us said anything for a good two minutes, I stepped up onto the porch, not bothering wanting to go around him on the stairs.

"Jean, wait," he began. I paused and looked at him, not sure if I was ready to do this. I didn't know if I wanted to put my feet in the water, so to speak. "I uh... I just wanted to say that I..." He looked like he was obviously struggling.

He failed to say anything else after another couple moments, so I started going into the cabin, shaking my head a little. I could do this later. It didn't have to be right now. I wasn't sure I was ready.

I felt a hand on my arm, and I automatically flinched away. When I turned around, Dad was standing there with his arm outstretched, looking like he was a little hurt and a lot struggling. "What?" I asked. "What do you want?"

He pulled his arm back and rubbed the back of his neck. "I wanted to say sorry. For... saying all that shit. It was uncalled for and most of it was not true or exaggerated." He looked down. "I was being irrational and stupid."

"Uh yeah, you were."

He looked up at me again.

"You were being a serious dick. And this," I waved between us, "isn't gonna fix anything."

"I know. God, I know, and I'm so sorry. I've been a shitty parent, and I don't know how to make up for years of that, but I want to try. I really do."

I narrowed my eyes. "I have a feeling you're still gonna fuck up again."

"I probably will, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try at all."

I paused for a moment, looking at him. I could tell he was dead serious. And even though I wasn't ready, he sure as shit was. "Okay," I finally said.

"Okay? That's it?"

"Yeah. Okay. We aren't good, but if you're willing to try and not be an asshole about it, who am I to stop you?"

He closed his eyes and seemed to relax. I figured that now was the time when we should start hugging, but I wasn't much of a hugger--never had been--and neither was he, so we opted for going inside instead.

Mom was sitting on the couch talking with Connie. They both looked at us when we walked in. Mom raised an eyebrow. "So."

I leaned against the counter of the tiny kitchen. "So... what?" I asked.

"So I heard from a little birdie--"

"But I'm not a birdie, Mommy," Connie said.

"--that you were kissing Marco like Mommy and Daddy."