A Spark of Love

Graduation

I roll over, shut off my alarm, and press my face back into my pillow. Ugh. It's way too early to be awake, especially on a Saturday.

One of the things I hate most about to the weather getting warmer in May is that I have to open my window. I'm grateful for the airflow, but I have to leave my blinds open for it to make a difference and as soon as the sun comes up I'm up too and I hate it.

I groan and push myself up and rub the sleep from my eyes. A peek at my alarm clock reveals it's just past eight. Normally, I wouldn't mind waking up early, but my night wasn't exactly filled with sleep. I spent most of the night worried about what I was going to do with my life. It already feels like I'm drifting along.

It takes some effort, but I finally make myself get up. I put on my bathrobe, and head downstairs. Every Saturday, for as long as I can remember, by the time I got downstairs, Mom was making or had made, breakfast and Dad were getting ready for work. Today was different, though.

When I stepped into the kitchen, it was just my dad.  He was standing over the stove, something I was not used to seeing.  He must have known that because he turned around and smiled when he saw the look on my face.

"What?  You think your old man can't make pancakes?"

I smile at him.  My favorite.

"No, I'm just used to Mom doing the cooking."

The look on his face turns from happy to sour and he turns back to the stove.  I wrinkle my brow and decide not to ask.

I open the fridge and pull out the orange juice and set it on the table and put out plates and silverware for the three of us.

"Your mom isn't having breakfast.  She...she isn't feeling well today."

"Is she ok?"

I put a plate back into the cabinet and put away the fork and knife.

"Yeah, I think she has the stomach flu or something."

Dad sets the plate of pancakes in the middle of the table and we take our seats.  I pour myself some orange juice and then a glass for him.

"Thanks."

"Thank you, for making pancakes."

We smile at each other as we start to eat.

"Mmmm. These are really good, Dad.  Where did you learn to make pancakes."

"Well, I did survive before I met your mother. I mostly just ate pasta and pancakes, but I lived long enough to meet her."

I let out a giggle. He could always make me smile. Not even my foul mood could change that. It was starting to bother me how distant Mom was being, though. I could only assume that it was because I snuck out. She had been mad at me before, obviously, but this was worse. It almost seems like there was no end in sight and that unless I do something to make her proud again she might never speak to me. I know it's stupid. I wonder what I could do.

"You good?"

I look down and notice that my plate is empty. I ate three pancakes already. I nod as my dad gets up and starts to clean the kitchen.

"You should go get ready. We have to leave in..forty minutes or so. You can't be late for your own graduation."

Ugh. He's right. I don't even want to go anymore. A few weeks ago, I was really looking forward to today, and the party at Kevin's, and now...now I just want to curl up in a ball and die. I need to get through today without anyone finding out about State, that's the last thing I need.

I go upstairs, take a quick shower and throw on a T-shirt and comfy shorts. I put my hair up in a ponytail and grab my cap and gown out of the closet. I head downstairs and find Dad sitting in the living room, waiting for me.

"Should I tell Mom that we're going?"

He shakes his head and stands up.

"Nah. She's probably asleep anyway. I don't want to bother her."

I know he's right. Not to mention I don't want to put her in an even fouler mood.

We head outside and got in his car. For the first few minutes, we sit in silence.

"So, any ideas of what you want to do next?"

I've been trying not to think about it. I can't tell him that, though, not after how supportive he was when I told him about State.

"I was thinking maybe a summer job and then community college."

"That's a good plan. I'm actually a little surprised that you've thought about it that much. If I were you, I would've tried to not think about it right now and just take it day by day."

I guess I still underestimate my dad. He really is a sweet man. I feel like no matter what I do, he will always love me. I want to feel that same way about my mom, I really do, but after the last couple of the days..I really don't know anymore.

We go back to driving in silence and I think more about Mom. I remember a few years ago, I can't remember what it was that I did, she was so mad that she didn't talk to me for two days and the only reason she finally did was that my parent had a huge argument. I had cried myself to sleep that night as they yelled, pushing my face into my pillow and covering my ears.

I start to wonder if my mom ever really wanted me. My parents had me in their early twenties and they never seemed that keen on having another kid, as far as I could tell.

Dad pulls the car into the teeming parking lot and turns off the engine. I got out and put on my cap and gown while he pulls out his camera. I take a deep breath and try to collect my thoughts. I focus on the present, everything else can wait. We walk to the football field, where the graduation ceremony was to be held.

I did my best to smile as we took our seats and waiting for the ceremony to start.

The first part of the ceremony is boring, just speeches by the valedictorian and the principal, and I tune it all out. My gaze and my though are in the clouds. I watch as the puffs of white dance, effortlessly., across the blue sky changing shape as they move. It makes me long to be free, but instead, I feel trapped. Trapped in this town. A sick feeling fills my stomach. What if I never leave here?

My dad elbows me gently and I look up.

"Now, we need all graduates whose last name starts with A through J to please come to the stage and form a line.

I look over at my dad. He is tinkering with his camera, getting ready to take my picture as I cross the stage. I smile, He's more excited than I am. If it weren't for him, I don't know that I would have even bothered to go.

It seems like an eternity before it's my turn to cross the stage. When I finally so, I look out into the crowd and locate my dad. He is standing, with his camera in front of his face. I force myself to smile as I take my diploma from the principal and walk off the stage.

There is a table set up on the far end of the stage where I wait, again, and hand the diploma ever to one of the women who works in the office. In return, she hands me my actual diploma, the one with my name on it, and instructs me to head back to my seat.

"I'm so proud of you," he says, whispering into my ear.

Even though she's still not talking to me, there is a part of me that wishes Mom could have been here.