Learning to let go : improved version

FOUR

When Dad gets home, he takes one look at the floor, at the carpet at the TV and he can’t even look at me.

And it hurts.

I’m somewhat surprised. I didn’t think I could feel anything, anymore. But apparently I was wrong. I can feel alright. “Go to bed, Lillian” His voice is measured, I wish he wasn’t so good at hiding his feelings. I can’t tell what it is he’s thinking. But I’ve been told by JJ I’m pretty hard to read myself. I guess I take after him in that respect.

 Lillian starts to protest, but all dad does is look at her, and she closes her mouth. Instead she turns to me nervously, there’s a small crease between her eyebrows. “Maddy?”

I glance over at all the mess I’ve made and feel dad watching me. I look away as his eyes land on the carpet. Not the 55 inch flat screen TV  hanging on the wall, that he loves and costs nearly £2000 that is now ruined, a long, jagged crack running through it , not at my converse, a Christmas gift from my aunt Tess, also ruined. He doesn’t even glance at the remote that lies in pieces on the floor. He looks at the carpet first, and inhales sharply. “Go to bed, Lillian.”

I give her a reassuring smile. I know it’s reassuring, because I’ve had a lot of practice at it. You get good at something when you put a lot of time and effort into it. I put a lot of time and effort into lying. “Everything’s alright, Lills.” I say slowly, looking her straight in the eyes, like all I have to do is compel her to do what I ask, and she’ll do it. I wish that were true. I wish I was a vampire. “Go to bed. Dad and I will be up in a minute.”

She stares at me some more, and then shuffles into her room without another word. As soon as the door closes, Dad turns to me. “What happened?” He fires the question.  And for a moment I feel touched.  “Yeah, I mean, the guy didn’t hurt me or anything-” I stumble over my words, shocked and a little uncomfortable with this unexpected show of affection.

“No.” Dad says. “What happened to the carpet?”

Something inside me snaps. I should have known. I knew he didn’t care about me. ““It’s only beans” I snap. “It’ll come out”

 Dad sighs, relieved. “Well, that’s something, at least” His gaze shifts away from me and rests on the ruined carpet, he’s silent for a long time and then looks at the TV as an afterthought. He starts fiddling with his tie and I know from experience this is not a very good sign. “Do I even want to know what happened there?” Dad looks at me, a slight frown on his face.  I gulp, thinking of how expensive it must’ve been.

“I -“

He interrupts, eyes on the carpet again. “I still can’t believe you did that to the carpet.”                                                          

“I’m sure we could just buy another-”

“I’m not made of money Madeline” He’s not even  shouting, his voice is low, soft. That should give me some comfort, but it makes me feel even worse. He should be shouting, yelling or screaming tutting, at least. But he just stays eerily quiet.

“How much-“

“I don’t know.” He says, still staring at the stain, he sinks down onto a stool. “Your mother bought it.”

The remark is like a slap to the face. It belonged to her? My mother? My mother bought it? My mother bought that carpet and I ruined it?!

“I... I didn’t think -”

 “You didn’t think.” He repeats, his face devoid of emotion as he stares absentmindedly at the floor. “That’s always the problem isn’t it? You don’t...” We lock eyes. “Think.”