The Sun's Too Bright

Eight

🎵 Cop Car: Keith Urban

After Jack drops me off at home, I walk inside and I can already sense the tension in the air.

"Mom, Dad, I'm home." I call, knowing it doesn't really matter to them if I'm home or not.

My dad comes downstairs, carrying a briefcase and then a suitcase behind him.

"Um... dad?" Why does he have a suitcase?

"I'm leaving for a couple of days," he pauses, "On business."

We both know it's not business. My dad is a surgeon, one of the best in the state of Illinois. That's why we could afford such a nice, big house for our family of four that's now down to three. When I was younger, he used to attend medical conferences, but those stopped once he established himself. There's no way he would be leaving for one right now.

I play along anyways. It's easier that way. "Okay Dad, have fun." I kiss him on the cheek and go upstairs to my bedroom.

Present Day...

He dodges my question about what happened to him. At least the icy look in his eyes is gone.

"So that first time that your dad left, it was to see his mistress?" Jack asks me in surprise.

Oddly enough, coming from a Catholic family, my parents' marriage was far from the traditionally religious and devoted marriage that it should have been.

"I guess he just needed to lighten the tension at home."

I try to make it sound like a joke, but to this day, I can't find any humor in that situation. I mean, I shouldn't care about someone who abandoned me, yet the tightness in my stomach whenever I mention him says otherwise.

"How many times did he really leave?" Jack asks.

It came to a point that I stopped telling Jack about my dad leaving. After I found out what his "business trips" really were, I became too ashamed to mention them.

"My dad left every weekend from then on until he was permanently gone."

It's at that point when he grabs my hand that's still resting on top of his. At this moment, I feel like nothing as changed and we're still in high school, unsure of our futures and I guess that's still true. I had aspirations back then and although I had no idea what path would lead me there, I had the confidence that I was going to get somewhere in life. I might have some of that left in me.

"Here are your coffees." The waitress slides the drinks towards us. I break my gaze away from our intertwined hands and smile sheepishly to the woman.

Neither of us make a motion to drink our coffee. Not yet. We need to wait and see what else will happen.

"I missed you."

My heart stutters from his words.

"I missed you too." I pause. "A lot."

High School...

Jack's team wins their baseball game. When he walks off the field, he searches the crowd to find me and I run up to him. He holds me in a hug, lifts me, and spins me around, kissing my cheek. When he releases me, I look at his beaming smile in awe. There's my happy boy.

This is how it's supposed to be. We've always been happy with each other and I'm going to make it last as long as possible.

Tonight, no worries about the future will matter. It'll be a world of just him and me.

We walk to his car, hand in hand. He opens the trunk of his 1973 Ford Thunderbird. Although it's only nine years old, the rusted hinge of the trunk squeaks as if it's ancient. He puts his baseball bag in the trunk, but doesn't make a motion to open any of the doors. I look at him, waiting for his explanation. He digs around in the trunk and pulls out a different bag. "Come on, I found a new spot," He says, making me smile so hard that my cheeks hurt.

He leads me to the location he found with a skip in his step, carrying the bag full of my pain brushes and paints. We live in a town where graffiti isn't unheard of because it's so close to the city. Jack sometimes scopes the area, trying to find new places for me to paint on buildings. He loves watching me paint, he claims every time he takes me someplace and frankly, I love painting, so it's a win-win.

The location of the night is about five blocks away from school. It's on the side of an old book store that has been closed for years.

When I was little, my mom taught me how to draw cool fonts, so that's what I decide to do tonight. Jack sets the paint bag down and sits next to it on the sidewalk. I dig around the bag to find a large brush to start. Most people use spray paint, but vandalism isn't a practice that I do frequently. Plus, my parents would kill me if they found out that I did this. They're very well respected in this town and I wouldn't dare do anything to tarnish their reputation.

When I finish it, I stand back and admire my work. The wall now says, "Jack and Diane," in graffiti styled lettering. I also painted a heart, because we get a ton of crap for being that couple, the kind that's voted most likely to be together forever type of deal, so why not embrace the cheesiness for one night?

"It's awesome." Jack smiles, displaying his dimples and he loops an arm around my waist. Jack likes that cheesy kind of stuff.

"Thanks," I say as I pack up the paint brushes and paints.

When I finish, I can feel the adrenaline running through my veins, "Where to next?"

His expression mirrors my feelings of excitement, "It's a surprise."