I Promise

4

The next day my mom comes home from work and my father is nowhere in sight. She looks miserable, but at least the redness from yesterday disappeared.

I can't shake the image of last night out of my head. My father never raised a hand to my mother, and I felt slightly scared that she had done something terribly wrong, but I knew not to ask. Yesterday I had stood in shock in the kitchen, clutching the mustard bottle like a lifeline. It was the only thing I knew was real at the moment. I stayed frozen until my mom spoke.

"Rynn, get the hell out. Right now," she said.

So I went to the bathroom, dumped the mustard bottle in the trash, and hurled. I didn't know why, but I definitely knew I wasn't about to eat mustard anytime soon.

I snap out of the memory, and I bite my lip. I guess my mom knows we all need an answer, because Ashton and JT are clinging onto both of my legs, and Peyton is holding my hand.

"He left," is the only explanation she gives. Then she just goes to the kitchen and continues like nothing happened.

I feel anger run through my blood. That was it? She was just going to leave her four kids hanging like that? No explanation, no mention of where my dad was, nothing. My dad is hotheaded, but he is my dad. I grew up with him for seventeen years, and now I am just supposed to forget about him? And what about Ashton and JT? They love my dad - he was a good father to them - we all saw it.

So, instead of being the quiet child that doesn't question anything, I trail after my mom into the kitchen. I almost feel like vomiting again, because the memories of yesterday are etched into my mind, and it almost stops me from breathing.

"Anything else you want to add, mom? Or are you just going to leave us all clueless?" I ask, and I can't help hide my anger. She can't expect us to shut out our dad like that. I need to know the truth.

My mom stops doing whatever she was planning on cooking, and whirls around, hands on her hips.

"What do you want me to say Rynn? He just left. There's nothing else to it. Just go to your room and stop asking questions for at least a second."

That stung, because my mom's face softens, and she tries to reach for my hand but I take a step back.

"Oh, so that's what it is then? I am just bugging you about this? He is my dad, mom!! Do you just want me to forget about him? Well, guess what? I can't!!" I stammer out, tears stinging my eyes. They weren't tears of sadness, but frustration. I feel like I am one of those moles from whack-a-mole. I was getting hit down so much that I didn't feel like coming out anymore.

My mom stops and looks at me, her gaze fixed on my face.

"Why," was all I ask, but it sets my mom over the edge.

"I don't want to talk about it, Rynn."

"Why?" I demand, my voice getting louder. Tears stream down my face, but I don't care.

"I am not going to talk about it," my mother warned, her tone getting louder, dangerous.

"Why not mom? I'm not stupid, I saw you and him yesterday, something happened."

My mom shakes her head, and she looks downright pissed.

"Leave," she says.

I stay, and I know I'm pushing the wrong button, but this time I don't care.

"Leave!" my mom screams at me, and she slams her fist on the countertop.

I stand there stunned. Maybe if I still had the mustard bottle, I would at least be able to cling onto reality and leave. But I threw it out.

After a few seconds, I walk out and go to the bathroom. Time to take a shower. My life is so fucking messed up, and I don't even know how it got so bad. The tears start before I turn on the water, and by the time I'm in the shower I am gasping for air.

Maybe you're just not meant to be here. Think about it. All you do is make people mad, and then you get yelled at. Clearly, they don't want to deal with your bullshit. Look at you, you're hoping to get a scholarship for soccer, and your sister is studying to become a freaking accountant. Mom and dad don't even know you play so well!! If they found out, they'd kill you. It's not a real job.

I snap out my thoughts, and more tears come. Of course I never told my mom or dad that I played soccer that well, or that I was even being considered for teams this year. They would get so pissed, and I didn't want them to ruin the thing I liked most about my day. If they knew, they would totally disapprove. I could almost hear them saying that if I wanted to become an athlete, I'd find myself working as a janitor instead. It's impossible in their eyes. And maybe my inner self knows all along that I can't please my parents, ever. I have views and dreams that aren't tailored to their own dreams for me.

I turn off the water, and I stand there shivering. As I walk out of the shower, about half an hour had passed. That was one my fastest showers. Ever.

I walk straight to my room and flop on my bed, but I realize too soon that I can't be in the apartment at all. I needed to get out, so I grab by small bag, stuff it with money and keys, and walk to the door. My nana is in the living room knitting, and my mom is nowhere to be seen. Suddenly my stomach drops when I realize nana is my dad's mom. If my mom kicked my dad out, would she kick her out too?

I bury the thought in the back of my mind.

"Nana, where's mom?" I ask.

Nana shrugs. "She is out at the hairdresser, I think. I'm in charge of dinner today sweetie."

I nod. "I'm going out too. I need to clear my head," I reply honestly. My Nana knew what happened, and she wasn't about to stop me.

"Don't be too late," she says and smiles, her eyes kind.

I nod and walk out. In a minute I am walking fast, but I don't know to where. Only when I get out to one of the main streets that I realize I'm going to the library. Books are always a comfort to me whenever I don't feel like doing sports.

As I enter the building that is filled with books, I smile. And so I spent at least two hours wandering the shelves, and reading. Once I feel hungry, I walk outside the streets already getting dark. But once I leave the library, I didn't feel the hunger, so I opt for a smoothie instead. As I walk along the main street, the sounds and bustling of so many people fill my ears. I wonder how many of them are dealing with shit like me.

I'm just about to round the corner, where my favourite smoothie place is, when a very familiar laugh erupts near me. Then I catch a whiff of dark brown hair, and I halt to stop. My mother stood right in front of me, but she isn't at the hairdresser.

She is holding hands with another man.