Standing Still

Chapter 10: Surprises Can be Not So Good

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So that's Audrey. ^^ 😁 Here's an update!

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Sam liked to blast the heavy metal music when we were in the car.

The screeching, pounding, head-ache-producing heavy metal. When I tried to change the station, his fingers were already on the dial, protecting it from my touch. We would go back and forth: classic rock, heavy metal; classic rock, heavy metal; classic rock, heavy metal.

It was a long drive.

Normally, I'd have let this slide. But, since today I was going to see my father for the first time in three months and he had a surprise for me, I suppose I was a little on edge. The headache Sam's music was giving me really wasn't helping all that much, either.

I slapped the button for the volume, and I cut him off before he could screech. "No. More."

He blinked at me for a moment, then slunk back in his seat. He must've known this wasn't normally what I was like, so he backed off. I smiled to myself, thinking that I should have done that more often.

I'd come to a feasible conclusion: this was going to be a good afternoon. I would see my dad, and he would tell me all about Rome and the Colosseum, and he would ask about school and I would say it was good and then he would tell his news and it would be happy and everything would be fine. Everything would be good. It had to be.

When I pulled into the parking lot of Romana's Pizza Palace and spotted my dad's light blue run-down Subaru, my heart leapt in my chest. I'd been too preoccupied to think about how I'd actually get to see my dad today, get to hear his laugh and see that little half-smile that was always etched onto his face. I'd see the slow, lazy gait he had when he walked and see the way he always messed with the buttons on his classic button-down shirt when he was feeling antsy and couldn't wait to say something. My dad was coming home, and I honestly couldn't wait to see him.

Sammy and I undid our seat buckles and got out of the car, which my mom had lent me to drive down here. I fixed my ponytail, even though I knew my dad couldn't care less about what I looked like, and we went inside. Sam had assured me the whole way up that he was the embodiment of the phrase, "cool and collected," but now, I saw him tuck in his shirt. He was maybe a little nervous, too. After all, we didn't get to see our dad very much; it was only natural to be a little worried we make a good impression.

My eyes searched the room, and then I spotted him at a table in the corner of the restaurant, hovering above an old-style flip-phone and fiddling with the buttons. He'd never been very technologically advanced, so the only thing he knew how to do on his phone was to make calls. Same old, same old.

I walked up to the booth and he raised his head and saw me, and the next thing I knew he was standing up and pulling me into a big hug. "Anna," he said enthusiastically, then pulled away and held me at arm's length. "My god, look at you! Geez, I make beautiful kids." He hugged me quickly again, and I laughed into his shoulder.

When he pulled away he ruffled Sam's hair, throwing his arm around his shoulders. "Look at this," he said, pointing to my brother. "Taller than me. Fifteen. No fair."

Sam blushed, even though he'd heard this a thousand times before. "Good genetics, I guess. Not like I had to work hard at it."

My dad laughed that cheerful, hearty laugh of his, and he gestured for us to sit down at the table. We did so, sliding into our seats, Sam across from dad. The seat across from me was empty. "It's so great to see you guys!" he enthused, smiling widely. His blue eyes were about the only physical feature he shared with Sam, and one of many he shared with me. My brother had our mom's cheeky grin and heart-shaped face, whereas my dad and I shared the same small, button nose and dimpled cheeks. There was no doubt my father and I were related.