Starting Position

Chapter 7

There once was a time when sitting at the kitchen table with my father was something I enjoyed. Particularly at breakfast. I would scramble the eggs and my father would butter the toast. He'd sing and hum his favorite song, and I'd playfully pretend to be annoyed at having to listen to his lack of musical talent so early in the morning. Afterwards, we'd arrange ourselves around the small kitchen table and dig in. Like clockwork, my mother would pad into the kitchen just moments afterward and take a seat, usually with a stifled yawn before my father planted a warm kiss on her mouth. It was my favorite morning routine. 

What struck me this morning during breakfast with my father wasn't how easy it was to dismiss the memory of my mother (I did what I had become a master at and simply willed her memory away). It was the fact I was unable to do the same with my father. The memory of us making breakfast, laughing in our pajamas, and enjoying our creation would not disappear, no matter how strongly I wished it away.

My father was perched in his regular seat, a steaming cup of black coffee in front of him. The newspaper he seemed unable to live without was splayed so it blocked his face. It was his comfort blanket, I supposed, a way for him to keep himself removed from my presence, or any presence. The paper kept him out of reach, and I was both thankful and resentful.

"Bye, Dad," I said, standing up, unsure of whether he knew I was there to begin with.

"Oh, um, wait a second, would you, Ell?" He set the paper down and I saw the bags that had been permanently tattooed under his eyes for last few years. "I was just wondering – well –you know how I mentioned – um – Sarah, the other morning?"

I nodded and my head felt a seconds away from popping off.

"Well, she – we – were wondering if you'd be interested in joining us for dinner one night in the next week or so?" I didn't say anything, couldn't say anything. "Think about it, okay? Sarah would really like to meet you. I've told her so much about you..." He voice trailed off and my throat constricted. Maybe in alternate universe I could deal with this right now, maybe someone much stronger than me could deal with this right now, but I could not.

The air was sucked from the room again, and I left. My dad may have called after me or may have simply let me leave without a word, I didn't know, because no sound other than the pounding of my heart echoed in my ears while I started counting down the days until this was over.

***

"I thought I would find you here."

After breakfast, I had headed toward campus even though I knew I would be considerably early for my first class. When I arrived in my ancient car, I could have had my pick of the best parking spaces, as very few students were here so early in the morning. Despite the ample choices, I still drove to the back of the lot and parked in my regular spot. It was no matter; it was closer to where I was headed anyway.

Just beyond the pavement was a cluster of evergreen trees. The campus had been built back when the town was founded, and a sliver of the wild that had once flourished remained tucked beyond the expanse of the college buildings. It was easily overlooked; the trees blended into the background blurring the divide between the campus and the rest of town. But the small plot held something special, something that called to me just as often as I called to it.

After slamming my door shut and drawing my puffer jacket close, I stepped into the green basin. Taking a breath inside the tiny forest was unlike breathing anywhere else. The cooling scent of dewy pine invigorated my airways and I felt renewed, clean. Like I was in a different realm and my past had no hold on me.