Pitiful I Know

Chapter 37

I woke up from the sound of the front door closing, slightly confused and then realized I had fallen asleep beside Ty.

I could hear his light snoring, and was happy that he had found sleep. Things were much simpler when you were unaware.

The sound of a car engine running got me out of bed.

Anthony must be leaving. Dad was alone again. I should go see him.

I slipped out of Ty's bed and then made my way towards Dad's study.

The light was still on, escaping from a thin open crack, so I knocked on the door and walked in.

"Hey kid, you should be sleeping," he trailed, sitting behind his desk, the bottle of Jack on it, and with less alcohol in it then the last time I had seen it.

"You too Dad," I whispered and walked up to him, to hug him.

"Stop worrying about your old man kid," my father smiled lightly, patting my arm wrapped around his neck.

"But my old man needs to know his kids care about him, and that they're here for him, no matter what," I breathed, smelling his familiar after shave.

That was a comforting smell. One that brought memories back of me, still a little kid, not even going to school yet, sitting in the bathroom counter, looking at my dad shaving, his expression as concentrated as mine before he tapped the tip of my nose with his finger, leaving shaving cream on it.

When you were young, you had stages. Ones where your mom is your favourite and ones where your dad was. And when you were young your parents were often your heroes. Sure, there were exceptions, but it was that way for me.

My dad was this all perfect model for me when I was a kid. Of course when you grew up, you realized your parents weren't perfect, but my dad was still my model, my dad was the anchor of our family, and without him, everything would be shattered. 

My mother had abandoned us. I had to accept it, we all had too. At first everything had felt like a bad dream, and I kept thinking that everything would get back to normal the next day, that my mother would come back to her senses, but at one point you realized that things weren't going back to the way they had been. 

Everything wouldn't be the same again. Because she had left, and this fact could never be denied. And right now I knew that I didn't want my mother to come back.

We would be better off without her. We were better off without her.

I just needed Dad to accept this too.

"You know dad, we can be happy without her. We can still make a life without her, we can go on without her. We don't need her. It would have been nice if things had just stayed the same, but things change. It's the way life works. We have to change with them. We can't live in the past. Living is a present thing, it's not a future thing and it's definitely not a past thing," I whispered to my father, still hugging him around the neck.

"When did you get so wise kid," my father chuckled and then squeezed me around the waist.

"I'm just trying to follow my father footsteps."

"Oh, your old man isn't wise, but your old man loves you, and he loves your brother too. And your sister, even though he doesn't always understands her. And your mom, but he knows what's good for him now, and she isn't."

"Talking about yourself at the third tense?" I asked, teasingly.

"'Makes me sound wiser," my father chuckled and I let go of him.

"Go to sleep, Dad."

"Alright," he said, and then got up and walked out with me.

"Goodnight Dad."