Page 15 of Wrench
Basically, my dad was tough, but he was getting old and unhealthy. I hated seeing him so
worked up.
¡°Dad, settle down,¡± I said. ¡°Make yourself a cup of tea, forget the food, and we can
talk.¡±
¡°That little punk¡ª¡±
¡°Dad,¡± I interrupted, firmer than before. ¡°Settle. Down.¡±
He paused his angry march and grumbled something unintelligible before taking a
deep breath. ¡°Fine. But you need food. You look like a ghost.¡±
We both sat in silence, me being too afraid of saying something to set him off before
he was ready to hear it. Not that any father would be ready to hear that his little girl got
her heart broken. He turned on the kettle and grabbed two mugs on the counter and put a
tea bag of chamomile in each. While the water boiled, he moved to the white fridge that
was covered in various bills, ¡°To-Do¡± lists, and pictures of me throughout my life, to grab
the chili.
Being his only daughter, he didn¡¯t have much else to cover the refrigerator with. Too
many of the photos also had Travis in them from holidays or big life events over the
years. A photograph of me and Travis on our trip to Paris last winter stared back at me
and I felt my stomach swirl with pain, making me force my eyes away.
My dad put the chili in a pot on a stove, and once it began heating, the fragrant, spicy
aroma brought me back to Earth and remembering my hunger. The kettle hissed and he
poured it into the pot. Once the chili began sputtering on the stove, he filled a large bowl
and garnished it with sour cream and cheddar cheese, just how I liked it.
He put the bowl in front of me, then placed a tea on each side of the table before
taking a seat across from me. Clasping his hands into a fist and resting his left cheek on it
so he was looking out the large living room window, he clenched his jaw together before
saying, ¡°I always hated that little rat-faced¡ª¡±
¡°Oh, come on, Dad.¡± I rolled my eyes. ¡°You loved Travis and you¡¯d always talk about
how he¡¯s such an ¡®upstanding citizen¡¯.¡±
My dad blushed behind his mustache and he grumbled, ¡°Like I said, rat-faced¡¡±
¡°He had us all, fooled, Dad,¡± I said, taking my first bite of chili and falling in love with
