My Classified Life

Chapter Fourteen: Hands of Mass Destruction

My family, my messed up, dysfunctional family, was eating around the dinner table and eating lasagna. We were all laughing uncontrollably about the joke Sammy had just told about when a Kleenex, a pumpkin, and a fire truck walk into a bar when we all were stunned silent at the sound of the garage door opening. None of us said a single word as we listened to the sound of the door opening and a pair of feet slowly making their way to the dining room where we were sitting. I listened to the sound of a briefcase hitting the floor and a man still coming closer. I couldn’t believe my eyes or my ears as a tall dark man emerged in the doorway with a black business suit on and his dark brown hair that was just like mine. His features looked as if they belonged with the family before him but yet he seemed foreign and unusual, awkward. I wanted someone to pinch me to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.

“I heard about New Zealand.” my dad said simply.

“How?” Brit asked.

“Friend of mine works there.”

‘My dad has friends?’ I thought. The idea had never crossed my mind that he even had a life outside of work.

“I see.” Brit added.

“Congratulations. It’s a good place. I’m proud of you.” He spoke clearly and then simply walked out of the doorway and his footsteps echoed in the house and the most unsubstantial noise could be heard in the silence that he left us with. Through the corner of my eye, Brit was gaping and staring off into space as if she’d just been told by Taylor Lautner that she looked pretty. Just plain shock. She dropped the fork that was midway between her plate and her mouth. After three seconds afterward she flinched and came back down to earth. I can’t blame her either, I would be just as shocked.

I had never once received a compliment from my father, not a one. He wasn’t around long enough to dish them out. In my entire lifetime, all I could recall was a ‘good job’ to Amanda when she started in her line of work. It took a lot to impress my dad, being who he is.

Brit wouldn’t gloat about what he had said. No, she would secretly cherish the moment that her father actually appreciated her. She knew better than to gloat with Sammy and I still around and still so very hopeful that one day our dad will say he is proud of us, too. And for me, the day couldn’t come sooner.

　

　

Our little family moment had passed and we had all dispersed quickly and quietly. My mom and my father stayed in the kitchen quietly and talked to each other all night and caught up on all the things my father had missed over the last month. He gets up every morning before any of us do and gets home after we go to bed. He is like a ghost in this house even when he is still working in D.C. Other times he is gone on ‘business trips’ as we like to call them. It’s almost better to pretend he’s always on trips then think about how he might actually be avoiding us.

I spent the night in my room with Christina curled up on my bed with a bag of Twizzlers between us (trust me, there is alwaysfood) and a movie playing in the background of our conversation that we had already each seen a thousand times. I grabbed a Twizzler roughly and snapped a chunk off with my teeth and chewed while Christina kept talking to me.

“.. and I heard he was in one of the Twilight movies as an extra or something before he actually got an acting role in that one movie..” when she realized I wasn’t listening she just stopped talking and gave me a look. She crossed her arms and raised one eyebrow.

“Sorry..” I whispered.

“If you want to talk about it just say so.”

“Talk about what?”