Free Fall. // l.r.h.

Step 3: Trust No One

My father's arms enveloped me as I was engulfed by the heavy smell of tobacco and his old cologne with the funny French name.
"Harper Jane, I sure have missed you." The southern twang hung thick in his voice.
I let my arms fall to my side, cueing him to let go. "You're dead," I whispered, eyes still broad. "This isn't real. It can't be. You're dead."
He bit his lip. "It seems as though I was."
"So you just expect to show up here one day and make everything okay?"
He raised his voice. "I know you're mad, but I'm still your father! Ain't I still Daddy? Ain't I still the same?"
I swallowed the dry lump stinging my throat. "You let your family believe you were dead. For seven years."
"Har--"
My mom burst through the door. "Who is--" I watched as the eyes of the strongest woman I'd ever known filled with tears. She slowly dropped to her knees. "Clyde?" I saw her lips form his inaudible name.
"Lucy." He gathered her up in his arms. "I'm right here. I'm home now."
I pursed my lips. This is no longer your home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, there was an extra chair pulled up to the table that I'd never expected to see filled again. All eyes were on the intimate stranger who shoved down Mama's green beans like he hadn't eaten since he left.
I saw the pain in Mama's eyes. The adoration in Eli's. The wonder in Maggie's. The love in Lindsey's. The hatred in mine. "Where were you?" All eyes averted to me.
Daddy froze. "What now, Harp?"
"Don't call me that." Ice hung in my words, and I knew it full well. "Where have you been? Atlanta? Where you came from? Were you still in Illinois, you just didn't bother to tell us you were alive?"
Mama placed a hand on my knee. "Harper," she said sternly.
"No! Your car was in the lake. You took one too many of those pills that are probably still in your pocket right now. You were dead. But they didn't find you. And you have... You just..."
Lindsey glared at me. "Harper stop it!"
"The audacity! What do you want? After all these years, what could you possibly want from us?"
He pushed his chair back and stormed outside to the back porch with his lighter in his hand. Lindsey grabbed my arm and pulled me to our room. "What is wrong with you?" she demanded. "Daddy is back. He's home. He came back, and you're not even grateful?"
"Don't you see that there's something not right here? He was dead and now he's on our porch. You're not concerned? He won't tell me where he's been, why he left, how he survived. You really think that everything's fine?"
She perched on the edge of her bed. "I cannot believe you think he'd just leave us like that."
"Open your eyes! He did leave us. Clearly he wasn't dead. He didn't care to tell us. To come back to Springfield. To call once. To be there for me. For us. He doesn't care about any of us, Lindsey."
A tear rolled down her cheek. "And what, Harper? What did we do to make him leave?"
I lowered my voice. "People leave." Memories swarmed in my mind, raising with the water in my eyes. "You can't trust them, Lindsey. People you love. They leave. People you care about. They leave. Fathers. They leave. Best friends--"
"Luke?" She looked me square in the eyes.
I broke the gaze, turning away. "He left. Without even moving away from next door. He left. They all do."
Lindsey laid back, staring at the pictures on the ceiling. Mama, Eli, Maggie, me, and her on Daddy's shoulders stared back. She'd kept that picture above her bed for seven years. "What does he want?" she whispered.
"I... I don't know."