Childhood Crushes

Chapter Thirtytwo - The Notebook

After taking a shower to get the rain out of my hair ---- and hanging up my new wedding dress... ---- I walked downstairs in my favorite pajamas and sat down in the living room, not sure what to do. Hazel ---- who was supposed to be here for support --- was out somewhere with Billy B., the boys were all three at work, Bale had to do some things this evening for the tackle shop, which meant Michael was working with him too.

Everyone I knew was busy, and now I was sitting at home, alone, just like I would be back home. And the worst part; Dad only has cable, and there's nothing on it.

Still, I flipped through the channels and looked for something remotely entertaining. I was watching a Spanish soap opera when the front door opened, and in walked a freezing Dad soaked in rain.

"Good Lord, it's rainin' cats 'n' dogs out there!" His voice rang through the house, making me giggle. After he took off his worker boots, coat and sat down his mini cooler-lunchbox, he walked in the living room and looked around. "Where is everybody, Belly?"

"The boys are working." I shrugged.

He nodded and went upstairs to change out of his wet clothes. I could hear the shower running for a minute and soon he was downstairs, wearing a clean white T-shirt and frog patterned flannel pajama bottoms. I smirked at him, "Nice pants."

"I know, they're my favorite." He smiled.

He walked in and sat down on his favorite recliner in the corner of the room, and pulled out that book I've seen him walking around with ever since I got here. He said he had just gotten it, but it was already halfway finished.

"Dad, what's that book you're always reading?" I asked.

He smiled and set it down on his lap, "It's called 'The Notebook' by Nicholas Sparks... Haven't you seen the movie?"

I shrugged, "Not really. Momma and I watched it all the time when I was little, but I don't remember anything, I'd always fall asleep before it ended."

"Well that's good, it's always better to read the book rather than watch the movie. Gives you the full experience." He grinned, then went back to reading his book. After a moment, he set it back down and looked at mer curiously. "You want to read it with me?"

I shrugged, "I guess so." I got up from the couch and squeezed into the recliner with him. It was a tight fit, but I was still comfortable.

Dad opened the book up again and began to read from the first page this time. "Who am I? And how, I wonder, will this story end? The sun has come up and I am sitting by a window that is foggy with the breath of a life gone by..."

"...When the lump in his throat subsided, he whispered to her, “You are the answer to every prayer I’ve offered. You are a song, a dream, a whisper, and I don’t know how I could have lived without you for as long as I have. I love you, Allie, more than you can ever imagine. I always have, and I always will.” Dad finished chapter 7 with a heavy sigh. It was midnight; and even though the boys got home a while ago, we never did stop reading the book. He had already read these chapters, but he was patiently reading them again, to his baby girl.

When Billy, Jimmy and Joel walked inside, they all were asking Dad something before they saw us, then slowly backed out of the room and went to talk quietly in the kitchen to not disturb us.

I stretched, curling my toes as I did, yawning like a lazy lion in a zoo. "What happens next?"

"Well we'll just have to continue this tomorrow when I get home from work, won't we?" He smiled sleepily. He folded the corner on our last page and put the book down. We both laid back and closed our eyes, still sitting in the chair together. It felt like I was a little girl again; snuggled up with my dad.

"Hey, Dad?" I said.

"Mmm?"

"How's come you haven't talked to me for the past few years?" The questions I've been wanting to say the entire time I've been here. I just never seemed to find the right moment to ask.

There was a long silence before Dad finally sighed, "I'm a coward." His voice cracked.

I opened my eyes and looked over to him, to find him staring at the ceiling with watery eyes.

"I'm a coward, and I know I have been. When you left, I tried so hard to get you to come home. One day on the phone your mother accused me of tryin' to take you away from what you wanted most... You did always ask why Mom wasn't around." He sniffed before continuing. "I felt like a terrible father and I thought you didn't want to speak to me anymore..."

My brow furrowed and I sat up to look at him, "Dad? Seriously?"

He frowned at me in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"You're my dad; of course I wanted to speak to you. I wanted to come down to visit you every summer, every other weekend! Momma and I even planned the best times to visit you, the next time you called. And you never did. I was really hurt, I thought you didn't care about me anymore."

"Annabelle..." Dad groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked tired, but I knew I couldn't let this conversation end. What if it never came up again this summer? What if I go another 6 years without talking to him? What then? When he opened his eyes, he shook his head and continued, "I never wanted to hurt you. I've missed you so much these past few years; I think about you everyday. Your mom sent me a picture in my e-mail every now and again, but I wondered what kind of woman you were turning into. I wondered if the city life changed you at all... I was stupid, lettin' you go without a father... I'm sorry."

I didn't realize it, but I had been holding back tears. When he finished, I couldn't hold them anymore and they spilled over. I leaned down and hugged him, sobbing into his shoulder. So many emotions were running through me in that moment. Happiness he never forgot me, pain he didn't try harder to be a part of my life, relief I had him now, and sadness that I waited this long to finally do something about this. It must have been another hour or more that we sat there, hugging. I was a little girl again in that hour, and I enjoyed all 60 seconds of it.