troubled | e.d.

thirty-two

tessa

"he's really worried, dad," i sigh out, taking another slice of pizza from the box on the coffee table.

he sips from his soda can and thinks for a moment.
"i would be too, probably."

"not helping," i roll my eyes. "seriously. how do i even begin to calm him down?"

my dad sets down his drink and readjusts the blanket on his lap. kevin places his head on my leg, whining for some pizza. i gently push it off.

"you know what i do when i'm worried?" he asks.

i narrow my eyes. "dad. we're not dragging him to church."

"well, you could offer—"

"i'll offer, but if he says no i'm not pushing it. forcing religion on people who aren't necessarily religious is so wrong."

he nods. "i understand that."

sighing again, i take a big bite of my pizza.

"and besides..." he says quietly. "i think it might be good for him. he grew up in a lutheran household, so it might bring back some good times."

ethan. at a church. the thought scares me.

but nonetheless, i call him right before i go to bed. he picks up quickly, and greets me with a happy, but tired hello.

"hi," i smile, grabbing some pajama pants from my closet and keeping the phone in between my chin and shoulder.

"you go to bed so early. why are you still up?" he laughs.

"so... what's the date tomorrow?" i ask.

"sunday the 17th. why?"

"my dad had this crazy idea."

"do tell," he urges with sarcastic wonderment.

"he thought that maybe... since you've been worrying a lot recently..."

he groans. "oh no."

"do you want to go to church with me tomorrow?" i finally just breathe out, ripping the bandaid off.

he's quiet for a minute.

"i'm not saying no," he assures. "but i haven't been to church since probably two christmases ago."

"that's okay," i shrug, turning my phone on speaker and placing it on my desk as i rip my shirt over my head. "you don't have to go."

there's a beat of silence before he asks, "do you want me to?"

"do what makes you comfortable. not religious? that's cool. i don't care," i reply honestly and tug on a soft t-shirt.

"i'll go."

"you don't have to," i remind him.

"but your dad might like it."

"that's true," i admit. "if that's your only motivation then it's good enough for me."