The house was breath-taking. It was the perfect size, complete with a large pong so crystal clear, I could see the bottom. There were 3 floors; the top for me, the bottom for my dad, plus the basement. We had a kitchen, family room, and 2 bathrooms. I couldn't belive my dad could afford all this. I stared at the house with amazement.
"Do you like it?" my dad asked.
"Like it? Dad, it's perfect! It must have cost a fortune!"
He shook his head and unlocked the door. The inside was just as beutiful as the outside.
"It definatly wasnt cheap but we still have money left over to get us by, or atleast until my new paycheck. I just wanted this house to be perfect for you. I know you didnt wan't to leave Illinois," he said.
I sighed and sat down on the couch.
"Dad...You're right. I love Illinois. I was born and raised there. My life is there," i started.
He lowered his eyes and looked at the floor.
":BUT, it's time for a change. It's great that they've made you manager of the store. And if that means moving to Portland, Oregon was the only way you could accept the job, then so be it. And who knows? I could get used to this," i smiled. He walked over and hugged me.
"Thanks honey. Now go get unpacked. When you're done, we're going out to eat."
"Alright."
I ran upstairs to my room. It wasnt very big but it was do-able. It took a hour and a half to unpack all my things and but them where they belonged.
I changed my clothes from a black, sweaty t-shirt and jeans to a dark blue dress and flats. I took my hair out of the 2 tiny ponytails I had put it in earlier and brushed it down. I guess I looked alright. Probably should lay of the potato chips but whatever.
After my Dad showered and got dressed, we left.
Once we'd gotton our table and ordered our food, I finally got up the nerve to ask the question that had been on my mind all day.
"So, does Mom know we moved?"
My dad looked at me with concern.
See, my mom left me when i was only 2 years old. I hardly remember her. It hurts alot but my Dad has always been there for me. But he's still not my mother.
"I don't think she knows yet," he responded slowly.
Our food arrived at our table. I picked up a french fry and jammed it in my mouth.
"Well, you should tell her. You know, in case she-----," my dad cut me off.
"Florence, she's not coming. She's not going to stop by or anything. I doubt she'll even care. Why should i tell her something that doesnt matter to her, God!" he snapped. I felt like i had been slapped in the face. I stared at him. He realized what he had done and apologized. I didnt say a word.
" You know its been 9 years since the last time i saw her?" he said.
I thought back to that Christmas, 9 years ago, when she had stopped by just to tell us that we were never going to see her again. My dad had begged her to stay and i had begged her not to leave me. But she still walked out that door.
I didnt realize i was crying until a single tear drop landed on my hand. Anger filled my body. I hated myself.
"Why did she leave, Dad? Am I that horrible to be around?"I said, my voice shaking.
My dad got up and sat next to me. He gave me a napkin and said, "Look at me, right now." I brought my eyes up to his.
"Your mother did not leave because of you. It's not your fault that she's gone and dont you ever for a second think that your horrible to be around. If i knew why she left, I would tell you but i know for sure that it wasnt because of you." My dads eyes were glossy and I figured he would start crying if we kept talking about her.
"I love you Dad," i said wrapping my arms around him. He rested his cheek on my head.
"I love you to sweetheart."
It was silent and my mind wandered to another very important subject: School.
"Dammit....I mean, dangit," i said, quickly fixing my mistake. My dad stifiled at laugh.
"What's wrong?"
"Dad, what about school? I honestly hate it, but i still have to go right?" i asked.
He thought about it for a second and finally said, "School doesnt start for another 2 and a half weeks. I'll make sure to get you registered by then."
I nodded. "Can we go now? We can finish eating at home. A place were I dont have to watch people over a billion make out."
We looked over at the table in the nearest corner where 2 senoirs with white hair and wrinley faces sat there swapping spit.
I shivered and my dad laughed.
"Sure," he said. "Lets go." My dad paid for the food. We got up and headed for the door. My dad smiled as we left and i thought to myself what I'd do if he ever left me.
I tried to shake the thought out of my head, but it was still there lingering in the back of mind, screaming that i wouldnt have to think it much longer.
