Her Name is Memory

09| new normal

Chapter 9

"Her blue eyes show the saddest tears"

- Nathaniel's Lyric Journal

"HOW ARE YOU?" Dad asked me.

I looked up from my hardly touched food, looking around the kitchen rather than his face. More boxes were unpacked, and items were cluttered around. It felt more like a home. Dad finally hung all of Mom's paintings around, looking nice against the blue wall.

"Good," I lied, toying with my spoon in my soup. My appetite was not there, but Dad insisted we should eat together. I don't see Dad often, so I accepted his invitation for dinner. Hence, why I was forcing dinner down my throat.

"Do you still talk to your friends in New York?"

I shrugged.

"Yeah."

He eyed me. 

"I haven't heard from Esteban or Javier in a while," he asked, referring to my best friends since grade school.  "What about Alyssa?"

I shrugged again when he asked about my close friends.

"They are fine. I still keep in touch with them," I bit off, thinking back to the texts I have not responded to time to time. They have been insisting on calling and keeping me updated on the drama that was happening in New York. I just didn't have the energy to hear about it all the way from here.

My father nodded, taking another spoonful and swallowed. He watched me for a moment, flickering between the outside world and me.

"I can't make gazpacho as good as Mom or Abuela can, but it's pretty good. Right?" he continued, waiting for my response.

Suddenly feeling obligated, I took a spoonful of the soup.

"It tastes fine Dad," I droned, not caring about the soup in front of me. Mom loved making gazpacho, but it was more than making food. It was her taking her time with the right spices, humming an old Spanish tune. Sometimes, she would be on the phone, laughing loudly throughout the apartment.

At the mention of Mom in front of Dad, however, I refused to discuss her in front of him. Part of me resented his casual tone about her.

It made me rethink about that day again.

The dreams that reminded me that I found her dead in our bathtub.

Be reasonable Nathaniel . It was hard on all on him too.

Dad suddenly got up, and washed the bowl and spoon. I glanced down at my full bowl, not realizing he was finished and knowing that he will return to work.

I was use to the disappointment anyways.

After he put everything away in the dishwasher, he grabbed his leather jacket from the chair and his black brief case. He looked at me with pleading eyes, silently asking me for forgiveness.

"I need to head out. By the way, Carlos is coming home next weekend, so I'll send you his information. I will see you tonight," he coughed. I remained silent as he left the door, slipping once again away from my life.

When he slammed the door, the silence fell over the table as it finally came to the realization he went back to work.

Typical.

I took another spoonful of the warm gazpacho, and almost gagged at the bitter taste that was growing in my mouth. Frustrated, I got up to toss the rest out in the garbage.