Page 27 of Entwined

“Good luck.”

“Thanks, I’ll need it.”

“I’m glad you’re not dead, girl.”

“Thanks, so am I!” I wipe my hands on a rag and start the long walk home.

My alarm goes off twenty minutes before sunrise. I take a hot shower, stretch, and perform a quick search for Christos on my laptop.

Still nothing.

He could be anywhere.

With anyone.

There’s still no news on the sale of his company. The only thing news I’ve found that mentions him at all is from some foreign investment website where an article mentioned he might have secured some mystery buyer for his company but that the deal ultimately fell through.

I dress quickly, eager to get an early start at the shipyard. A few parts that I need for Fixer Upper came by Fed Ex.

I sigh, brushing my hair; days have blended into weeks. I no longer feel shell-shocked at how quickly life changed. Working with my hands, spending days outside is slowly refilling my soul. My soft tan is back, the sun’s lightening my hair. But I’m still coasting, looking for a place to land.

Yawning, I pad into the kitchen on bare feet startled to see Dad already beat me to the pot of coffee. He has that look on his face. The one where I know I’m about to get a lecture.

His fingers tap on the table. He’s dying to speak his mind, choosing this time of day strategically since Mom doesn’t appear before ten.

“Spill. I need my coffee time before I get to work.”

He sighs, sipping from his mug. “I’m not blind. I haven’t pushed because it’s clear you went through trauma. I just wish you’d talk to me. I’m your father. I was the first one to hold you seconds after you were born. I can’t sleep at night. I feel as if I’m failing you. Something is wrong, and I can’t fix it because you barley talk to either of us.”

I hang my head. “I’ve been going through some …stuff. You and Mom—everyone that ever knew me, thought I’ve been dead…”

“That’s it?”

“No. It’s not.” I sigh, sliding into a seat across the table from him. “I don’t know what I’m doing here. I was lost even before I left for Capri. I-I’m sorry. I feel guilty even saying this because you and Mom probably went through hell when you thought I was gone, but truthfully, San Diego hasn’t felt like home in a long time.”

“I know.” He sits back in his chair, assessing me. “But you can’t work at a shipyard.” He pauses, pressing the tip of his index finger into the table hard. “You’re better than that. So much better.”

“It soothes me. The work clears my head.”

“That I do understand. But it can’t go on forever.”

“I know.” I take a sip wincing, missing Yaya’s Greek blend. “Actually, I think I do know what I want to do… I just don’t know how to get there.”

He patiently waits as we both enjoy our coffee in silence.

“I want to work with kids… ones with special needs.”

“So, you want to be a teacher? But you hate school?”

“I know. That’s why I was thinking of becoming an Occupational Therapist. There’s so many children with special needs that need them.”

“You’d kill it sweetheart. You’d drown inside a cubicle. You’d be a fish out of water unable to breathe. Being a therapist is a perfect career for you. You’re a healer Jessie. You fix things… why not people, too?”

My cup shakes in my hands as I lift it to my mouth. My mind spins. Did I love Christos? Or was I just trying to fix him?

“Well, I’m sure if we called and explained the situation you could get into Cal State.”

“I-I don’t want to be in California. I still want to see the world. I was hoping to study abroad. That way I could still travel but get my education, too.”

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