Thirty One Days

Dad

Pulp Fiction played on the T.V. as I filed my nails in the living room, dad was cooking Philly Cheese Steaks in the kitchen. The smell was drifting into the living room and I could hear my stomach grumble but the smell of steel followed it causing me to grow nauseous. It'll pass, I reminded myself.
Dad was off for the rest of the week, thanks to an accident concerning another coworker in his team, and promised to cook a hearty meal every night he was home. It's nice to be able to spend some time with dad after being alone with mom so often.
"Hey kid," Dad came out of the kitchen with a rag on his shoulder and a smile on his aged face. "Ready to travel to Philly?"
Rarely did I feel like the odd ball when dad was around, "Yeah dad,"
"I made Mac and cheese too, cool?"
"Totally," I followed him into the kitchen where he had laid out all the toppings and a pot of Mac and cheese with a cucumber salad. My stomach grumbles again causing dad to look at me and laugh.
"Bon appetit!"
We made our plates and sat down at the dining table, which was placed in front of the sliding glass door leading to the backyard, that gave us a beautiful view of the sunset. The food was delicious, dad happened to be the better cook out of my two parents and he always flaunted it when he could. The smell of steel still lingered in the back of my throat but I tried not to let it bother my dinner.
"Must be good, since you're so quiet," Dad chuckled as he stopped eating to take a sip of water. Glancing at my dad I realized how long it had been since him and I had actually spend any time alone together. Vaguely, I recalled a time when dad and I would have father daughter dates, it was after he began working at his current job.
"It's really good," I smiled at him, a real smile.  
We finished our plates then started cleaning the kitchen together, after making mom a plate for when she got home from work. I washed the dishes as dad dried them. Fighting myself as I washed dishes, I tired to keep the conversations light with dad. Talking about school or work, an upcoming project he had, and Dylan's last visit.
"He visited me at work after you two went to get coffee," Dad said as he put away the frying pan and it's lid. When I didn't say anything he added, "He seemed off."
Placing a spatula on the counter for him to dry I avoid looking at the bubble eye balls that floated in the sink and glanced out the window. The trees in the backward had begun to lose their leaves which collected on the ground around them. However the trees looked, the grass was still a vibrant green and dandelions had sprouted through the yard. Another memory of learning how to do a cartwheel with mom came to mind. 
"Do you know anything about that?" Dad dried and put the spatula away then leaned against the kitchen counter waiting for me to finished washing the last pot. Silence crept up between us until I realized that dad wasn't going to let it go, like mom did often when she craved normality, and sighed.
"We just had a-" I paused for a moment to try and find the right word without exposing that I had told Dylan. Or that he had caught me in one of my episodes. Dad only knew as much as mom had wanted him to know, she told me she wanted to protect him like Dylan. "We were talking about school."
"I'm not stupid." Dad said shortly. "Then Istvan came over a few days later," Dad raised his eyebrow at me. I glanced at him for a moment then handed him the pot and faced him.
"Istvan was helping me with a project."
"What project?" Dad shot back, not in a mean way but in a investigative way, the way he often praised Dylan for. Was he concerned?
"For English,"
"Why was the door shut?"
I couldn't help but roll my eyes as dad placed the pot in its place.
"Just a question," He glanced at me with a shrug, "Don't be so sassy." Dad offered a smile and we headed into the living room, just like that he dropped it. Perhaps he had found his answer or perhaps he had made me sweat enough for now and he'd touch on the subject later. Either way I felt myself release a breath I didn't know I was holding. 
Dad began flipping through channels mumbling to himself about paying too much for not enough channels and how the government is rigged.
He ended up settling on some 80's movie with Shane Scott, one of his favorite actors, who lost his car with Ashton Kutcher. Occasionally he would explain to me about how something worked differently in the 80's than it did now, usually followed by a sad laugh. More though, he just watched the movie while I enjoyed his company. 
"I noticed your mirrors were all covered when I brought you your clean clothes earlier today." It was more of a statement than a question but I could tell he was curious as to the reason behind doing it. Istvan's warning still echoed in my head and remained the top reason as to why I didn't look into any mirror.
"Do I need to take some mirrors down?" Dad asked as he turned toward me, face blank but eyes shining. Our eyes meet for a moment and I could feel that he truly meant what he said. He cared about my comfort more than being the odd people in the neighborhood without mirrors. Unlike mom, dad has always been a bit off. She had said that was the reason she loved him, but why couldn't she love me for my oddities? 
"No, thank you though." I said quietly but couldn't cover up the smile that craved itself across my face.
"Just let me know if you need anything, okay?"
"Yes dad,"
We spent a hour and a half watching the remainder of the movie until dad had to finished up some work in his workshop. After dad left, I went up to my room and attempted to finish some homework while listening to some music.
Today was one of the most normal days that I've had in a while and I wanted it to end that way. A few minutes later I heard mom come in and yell for us, saying she had groceries.
After saving progress on an essay I stood to head downstairs but stopped when I heard my phone ring. Since leaving school last spring, I haven't spoke to many of my friends, a random text wasn't odd to receive, and on a rare occasion I would get invited on a shopping trip or out to a party. 
As I glanced at my phone to see who it was, my heart skipped a beat. 
Istvan's name glowed on my phone a screen. After waiting almost a week, he had finally called and on the only day that I felt the slightest bit normal.
Goosebumps spread across my skin in anticipation.