Page 112 of Lake
“Thank you,” I said after I calmed down. “This means more than I can say.”
A wave of sadness washed over me. The kind that I had been trying to avoid thinking about for weeks now.
While this wasn’t my first Christmas without my dad, it was the first that it really hit me. The last one had gone by in a blur and I didn’t even remember it. I had been numb then. And it was all I could do to get through everything and plan a funeral at the same time. By the time Christmas came around a week later, I was still in shock and didn’t have the first clue what day it was.
I got one last Thanksgiving with him and then he was gone.
The doctors said he had six months by the time I finally dragged his ass to the hospital.
We got three and a half.
Six months wasn’t nearly long enough, but three and a half was worse because it came unexpectedly.
“Hey, look at me,” he said softly and I hadn’t realized that I had drifted off into my head. “Tell me about your holidays. What did you and your dad do?”
And so I did. I let all the memories in even though it hurt a little. But talking about them almost felt like I was keeping a part of my dad alive.
“Every year we would make homemade ornaments for the tree. They were never good, even when I was older. You should see the ones we made three years ago. Those were the worst. And that’s saying something because one year I literally balled up a piece of paper, covered it in glue, dropped it in glitter, then looped a piece of yarn through it so it would hang.”
He laughed and smiled as I went on.
I told him about the movies we would watch every year.
About the cookies we would bake, which were not homemade in any kind of way. We’d get one of those logs of premade sugar cookie dough in the refrigerated section and then cut them with a knife. We didn’t even try to make any kind of shapes at all. And somehow every year half of them would end up slightly overcooked. As in, they were black. But we ate them with a huge glass of milk while we sat on the couch watching those movies.
Then Lake told me how the girls got a crazy idea the night before— yes, on Christmas Eve— and made the guys put up a tree in the corner of the bar at the compound.
“There was that fake snow shit. I’m talking about the kind that is more like big flecks of glitter. That stuff is a nightmare,” he said looking a little miffed. “And then Sketch decided it would be a good idea to start a fake snow fight. So it got everywhere. I probably still have some in places I don’t want to think about.”
I smiled thinking that I wished I had been there. I didn’t say that out loud but it was becoming more clear to me that this place was maybe no longer my home. That I belonged somewhere else. And maybe I was the only one holding myself back and finding every reason to anchor myself to a city that held nothing for me anymore.
We talked for close to two hours and it didn’t even feel like it. I was surprised and somehow so lost in conversation that I didn’t even think to havethe big talk.
Eventually, he had to go because Brand and Chris were banging on his door yelling about how it was time to open up presents and that Cami and Laurel weren’t going to wait any longer.
I couldn’t even be mad.
Maybe a little sad that I wasn’t there but that was all my fault. I truly believed that.
“I miss you,” he said right before he got off. His tone was straightforward like he wanted me to know that he really did. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
I gave a quick goodbye then disconnected because I was suddenly choked up.
Then, strangely, I started packing.
And not theI’m taking off for a few dayskind.
So I hadn’t talked to him about what we could be or even what we were right now. That had never really been said. On the outside, it almost seemed like we were doing the long distance relationship thing. But since it hadn’t been voiced out loud, I wasn’t all that sure. I knew I wasn’t seeing or sleeping with anyone else. I also had a pretty good feeling he wasn’t either. I got the sense that he was in this just as much as I was.
Then I started to wonder if maybe I could be crazy and seeing things that I wanted to see. Hoping because I wanted it so much.
Well, there was only one way to figure it out, right?
If it didn’t work out, well, I thought that would be okay too.
Sure, I’d be a little heartbroken but I’d move on. Maybe. Whatever.
The point was, if that wasn’t the destination I was destined to head in, then I would find another.
And another.
And another.
Until I found somewhere that felt like home.
Some new place that sang to my soul.
