Page 3 of Shadows Within
“Hey, Daddio.”
“I didn’t think I’d see you this early,” he says as he dives back into the car’s engine.
I lean against its fender and watch him pull at the engine’s wiring harness.
Dad is the hardest working man I know. He’s the type of guy that would give you the shirt off his back, a shoulder to cry on, and an ear to listen. When I was a kid, he never missed any of my dance recitals and he taught me how to ride a bike—that’s always an important one for some reason. No one ever asks who taught me the real things in life. Who handled the sex talk? Who was there when you were failing math because you talked too much? Those are the really important ones… but the answer is still him. It’s always him.
“I always say hi when I get home from school,” I respond.
“Yeah, but I thought you were going to the gym tonight?” He faces me, confused.
“Not tonight, I went this morning instead.”
He scowls, his greying eyebrows almost touch. “You don’t usually go in the morning.”
There’s no point in hiding anything from him because he figures everything out sooner or later.
“I couldn’t sleep, and Ricco is always there in the morning, so I knew he’d be around.”
Dad snorts.
“How is Rocky doing?” God, I can never tell Ricco that Dad still calls him that. He would love it too much.
“Do not call him that.”
“What, it’s funny.”
I chuckle and roll my eyes, shifting my weight off the car. “It was funny when you said it eight years ago, Dad.”
It still is funny, but I don’t tell him that. I walk across the garage and toward the house.
“I’m going inside to start some research for a paper. Anything planned for dinner?” It’s Wednesday, so I’m thinking leftovers.
“Leftovers?” He adjusts a bolt with his wrench.
“Sounds good.” I make my way to the door. “Need anything before I head upstairs?”
He resurfaces. “Yeah, call your mom, Scar.”
I shrug and take a sip of my pop. I don’t answer.
“She just wants to hear your voice.”
Vanessa Voss—the beautiful and chaotic spitfire that is my mother.
“Yeah, okay Dad.” I open the door and make my way through to the kitchen.
Of course, Mom probably told him that I haven’t been over to visit lately. I’ll never understand how he still loves her after all they’ve been through. Mom left us for the luxurious life of take-out dinners and a clear schedule. She picks up shifts at The YachtClub Steakhouse whenever she wants. As I’ve transitioned from an angry teen to a mature(ish) adult, I’ve tried to understand why she left, but I still can’t wrap my head around it. I pull a chair out from under the kitchen table and grab my phone from my back pocket. I scroll to find my conversation with Mom. I don’t feel like talking to her right now, but I’ll do it for Dad.
Scarlett:Hey Mom, it’s me. The daughter you are SO proud of but don’t talk to.
Delete.
Scarlett:Hey Mom. What’s up?
Send.
I stand and make my way to my room. Our house is nothing fancy, but it’s home. Its stone base compliments the natural wood tones that outline the windows. It doesn't look like the typical big city house, but here in Millhaven, it feels right. Besides the gym, it’s the only place where I truly feel like myself.
