Page 34 of Coping Skills

Elena did as her mother said, setting her things in her old bedroom and using the bathroom before making her way to the living room. She stopped behind the couch, noticing that her dad still sat in the same corner he’d taken over after coming home from the hospital. A plate sat next to him, crumbs visible around the crumpled napkin. A glass of lemonade sat on the table next to him. Some sit-com with Tim Allen played on the TV, but her dad didn’t laugh along with the laugh track. He just sat and stared at the lights flickering on the screen, showing no signs of interest or engagement.

She moved into the room, taking a seat in the recliner in the corner across from the couch. “Hola, papi. How are you feeling?” She’d reverted to using the most diminutive form of address while he lay unconscious in the hospital, wanting to feel close to him somehow. It reminded her of when she was a little girl, and he slayed all her dragons. Now, he was becoming one of them.

Maybe she should call him dad. Something she’d only used to talk about him to others. She’d always called him papi or papá to his face. But this man was not the man who’d raised her. He vaguely resembled him—a heavier, angrier version of the man he’d once been. No longer ready with his easy smile or booming laugh. The only booming was when he’d yell in frustration.

His eyes swiveled from the screen to her and back again. “Fine.”

She’d gotten used to his one word answers this summer. She still hated it, though. She swallowed. “That’s good. My drive down was good. Fine. Uneventful.”

He nodded, his eyes never straying from the TV.

She sat in silence, watching the show for a few minutes. This wasn’t something her dad used to watch. It must just be something on—syndicated reruns on one of those channels that plays the same show for hours. So she waited for a commercial break to try to engage him in conversation again. They used to talk all the time. That was part of why she hadn’t called as much this semester. She’d always talked to her mom, but she’d talked to her dad a lot too. He’d encouraged her with her goals and ambitions, her desire to go to law school and become an immigration lawyer. He thought what she was doing was important, and was always happy to talk to her about it for hours.

What would he say if she told him she delayed the LSAT yet again? She hadn’t told anyone that. She’d been scheduled to take them earlier in October, but between continuing to do work for her dad’s clients and spending so much time with Daniel, she hadn’t done much studying. So she’d pushed them back, telling herself she’d make time for the next test date.

Or maybe she wouldn’t. If her mom needed her that badly, maybe she should come home after graduation.

Soon it became clear that there were no commercial breaks. He must be watching Netflix. So she cleared her throat and brought up the other subject he used to talk about for hours—his business.

“I’ve still been building websites this semester. It’s keeping me busy doing that on top of my homework. I had to quit the debate team to keep up with everything else.”

He grunted.

A grunt. That was all the response he gave her.

“Everyone keeps asking when you’ll be back.”

Silence. Not even a grunt this time.

“Do you know? When you’ll be back? Or should I tell them—“

“Dammit, Elena!”

She flinched at the switch from placid silence to rage at full volume, his face contorted into a mask she didn’t recognize.

“Tell them whatever you goddamn want. I don’t fucking care. Can’t you see I’m watching a show? Just shut up and leave me alone.”

She blinked at him as he turned up the volume, stunned. Her dad had never cussed at her. Sure, she’d heard him use those words before, but it was reserved for when he was muttering in frustration over something. Never had he directed them at family. And he always made time to talk to her. He was watching a show onNetflix.He could pause the damn thing if he wanted to. And in the past, he would’ve. Would’ve turned off the show and talked to her about her class load and where she should apply for law school and anything and everything that came up.

He never would’ve told her to shut up. Never would’ve turned up the volume to block her out, like she was a nuisance, an annoying background noise that he didn’t want to hear.

Her own rage rose up in answer to this treatment. She’d given up her time to help him, kept his business going, and this was how he treated her? Any guilt she’d felt about not wanting to come home this weekend burned away under the blaze of her anger.

She stood, not trying to say anything else. What would be the point? With long strides, she left the room and found her mom in the kitchen, cutting apples to go with the lunch she’d said she was going to make.

“I’m sorry, mamá. I have to go. I can’t stay here with him like that.”

Her mom set down the knife, an apple slice still in her hand. “What happened?”

Elena crossed her arms, debating what to say. “He yelled at me for trying to talk to him.” She looked all around the kitchen, the tears starting to build up behind her eyes. She didn’t want to let them out. She refused to cry. “He’s not the same. That man is not my papi. He’s not the man who played with me and talked to me about anything I wanted. I can’t—“ She shook her head. “I won’t stay here to be yelled at just for trying to talk. I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“But you just got here.”

The sadness on her mom’s face almost brought her guilt out again. But she pushed it down. She didn’t deserve to be treated this way. She wanted a relaxing weekend to get caught up, maybe get some sleep. Not come home and tiptoe around the facsimile of her father that lived on the couch and wouldn’t even pause a damn show on Netflix to talk to his only daughter. No. She wouldn’t swallow it down and pretend it was okay like she’d done this summer. Not this time.

“I know. I’m sorry. I really am. I want to see you, but I can’t handle him like that. I had hoped he’d be a little better by now. But if anything, he seems worse.” Elena drew in a breath, holding it while she debated speaking her real thoughts. “I won’t pretend it’s okay for him to treat me that way like I did over the summer. I can’t do it anymore. It’s not okay. So I have to go.”

She hugged her mom, a few tears escaping her closed eyes when her mom held her tightly and didn’t let go for a long time.

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