One Small Step | ✔

Time's A Wasting

Over the next few weeks,
Dad has been in and out of the house.
I'm not sure if it's voluntarily,
or if it's Aunt Margaret's doing.

Dara has asked me to be
her Maid of Honor. She and
Ambrose are
deep in wedding planning.

Or at least Dara is.
Ambrose just goes
along with whatever Dara
says.

There's a change in the
attitude around the house
all of a sudden.
One I never would have seen coming.

Tate is as happy-go-lucky as ever,
but he's never been happy with Dad.
That's changed.
He's almost annoyingly cheerful.

Ambrose is lovestruck,
my no-nonsense brother
is absolutely smitten.
That's something I'm happy about.

Margaret is humming
while doing the dishes,
laundry and even giggling.
Giggling!

Jacob.
He's grinning, he's gaming,
he's talking and he's...
alive.

Dad is still dull-eyed,
but I could have sworn
I saw a smile the
last time Roman made a joke.

It's been almost a year
since Carina's death,
since Adam's death.
And yet, we're still going.

A few days ago,
Roman had found my antidepressants.
I'd moved them because Dara wanted to
use my nail polish and I didn't want her to see them.

He'd cornered me,
hurt shining in his eyes,
but concern was
still the brightest.

One word fell from
his lips.
A thousand emotion
came with that word.

"Please,"
filled with sorrow, pain,
regret, love, concern, sympathy.
The list goes on.

"I'm trying,"
is how I replied.
It was as good as I could
give him.

Diana comes to visit sometimes,
and it seems to do Dad good.
Diana used to babysit us sometimes,
before she left Adam.

One day, she approached me,
her voice low,
"Is your father
doing okay?"

I didn't answer.
What could I say?
Because even I knew the truth
this time.

I'm sitting on the porch,
in the backyard,
reading a book.
No one else is home.

Ambrose, Dara and Trinity
are working on wedding plans.
Jacob is with his new girlfriend.
Tate is with Roman at a video game convention.

Meanwhile, Soren is at physiotherapy.
Margaret and the Olsens
are planning a picnic and buying everything.
I'm left alone with Dad.

It's a hot, sunny day.
We're deep into July and
it's like everything has
changed.

I hear the screen door slide open
and I turn around to see my father,
looking awkward but
standing there.

"Tallulah," he says uncomfortably.
"May I have a seat."
I nod and he sits next
to me in the porch chair.

"I know," he begins,
"That I have been a
neglecting, terrible father,
all your life."

"Damn right." I mutter bitterly.
Dara has encouraged me recently
to let all my feelings go.
I've been doing that a lot lately.

"Please," he begs me
"Just listen for a little bit."
I relent and put down my book,
still not looking at him.

"When your mother died,
I broke. Everything meant nothing.
Your sister's anger, your brothers' resentment.
Nothing."

It's nothing
I haven't heard of before.
It's as if he's reading from
a script.

"I've missed your entire life.
I've never cared about you.
I don't know you at all.
And I don't have any excuse."

"What do you want me to say?"
I snap at him.
"That I forgive you?
Because I don't."

"I don't expect you to.
Just hear me out.
I've been talking to Eli
and I've realized something.

"I've realized that I don't want that.
I thought that if I didn't get to know you,
I wouldn't feel pain when you died,
but I was wrong.

"If I didn't get to know you and
you-" he swallows,
"You died,
then I'd feel even worse."

He
has to pause
for a moment,
to continue.

"Carina. She died and I spent
about half her life,
locking myself in my study.
That alone makes me a terrible father.

"I just want to tell you,
I'm sorry. That I really, truly
want to get you know you
better."

The sunlight shines off his grey-brown
hair, the wrinkles on his forehead
pronounce and suddenly,
I know what is the right thing to do.

"Alright." I say at last.
"Fine. But you have
to start living again."
His eyes glimmer with tears. "Alright."

He gives me an awkward hug.
"Thank you."
I smile and it's just as
uncomfortable.

Never in my life, have my
father and I had a conversation
as long as that one.
Never have we been close.

We've never been close
as a family, the biggest
part of the reason was
my father.

But this was a start,
a beginning. It was going
take some time,
but we would make it work.

Time. It's something
no one has control of.
No one.
Not even the gods above.

Time. It's a funny thing.
You can wish for it to
hurry up.
Or you can wish for it slow down.

It can slip through your fingers.
It can fly as fast as a bird.
Sometimes, it seems to just
stop.

I wish I could say I understood it.
But all I can say is
it's precious.
it's cherished.

The time spent with my sister,
with my best friend.
I would never trade it.
Not even to save me from the pain I experienced.

I stand up and head inside,
putting my book back on my
desk. And then I walk to the
end of the hall and knock on the door.

My father opens the door
lightning fast,
his face
lighting up.

I fidget with my sleeves
for a moment and look back up,
surprised to be feeling
nervous.

"Hey, Dad?
Can we start getting
to know
each other now?"

Time is, after all, a wasting.