Amnesia • Calum Hood

•Chapter Twenty-Six•

As soon as I got home from work I told Sadie everything that happened.  I spilled about my dad, the things he said, how I reacted.  She listened quietly, nodding here and raising her eyebrows there.  This was a rare moment when I wanted to share my troubles with her and gather her input.  I wanted to be more open with her, and this was a great place to start.

Even though she didn't say anything outright, I could sense how pleased she was that I let her know.  After thinking over everything I said, and taking a spoonful of ice cream from the tub we were sharing on the couch, she spoke.

"You're not wrong.  Your dad needs the kind of help that you just can't give him.  It is tough sometimes, turning down family and refusing to help them, but in the end your health and well-being should be more important.  If he cares about you, he'll understand."

Her answer was sincere and thoughtful, but I was still so guilty even after hearing the reassuring words.  I nervously tapped my spoon against the side of the ice cream, staring at the TV for a minute as whatever show we were watching played quietly.  Sadie and I were enacting our old high school ritual; whenever we wanted to talk, we got ice cream, picked a movie, and hunkered down so we could both work through it together.

This problem was in a category I knew Sadie would be able to understand.  All her life she had to deal with feuding parents and a tense home life, something she'd flee to my house to avoid.  My parents were always kind to her, welcomed her with open arms.  She was well-versed in the art of handling these sorts of things.

Taking a large heap of ice cream, I let the cool flavors soothe the tension in my body and tried to relax.  "It's just, I feel so bad for abandoning him.  I mean, you should have seen him Sadie, he looked so...lost."  That was the one word I felt encapsulated his appearance and demeanor, all others not quite fitting.

She nodded along with my words.  "They always do.  It's part of the manipulation."

I frowned.  "Manipulation?"  That seemed too harsh a word for the situation.  I mean, he was my dad.  He would never manipulate me.

"Yeah.  When my mom was spending nights out with random people and blowing through all our cash because she was higher than a kite, she'd always come home and look at me with those huge puppy dog eyes, begging for me to see her struggle and come to her rescue."  Her jaw set ever so slightly.  "Little did she know, I wasn't a lifeguard, so it wasn't my job to save her from drowning."

I vaguely remembered that period of time.  Sadie's mom was quite the night owl, and would often stay out until far past midnight, even when her daughter needed her.  On those nights, Sadie would come over to my house, and we'd be her makeshift family until she had to go back to her broken one.

When Sadie brought up the puppy dog eyes, I begrudgingly saw the similarities between her explanation and my father.  He was definitely groveling, plucking at my heart strings in an attempt to use my emotions against me.  But it was all for the right reasons, after all he did need my help, and the way to do that was asking.  So what if he used a little persuasion?

Biting my lip, I shrugged my shoulders as nothing came to me.  "I don't know, S.  I want to think he was being sincere, but then again my gut was screaming no, so I just don't know what to believe."  It was becoming harder and harder to make up my mind lately, and as I pulled my knees to my chest I felt the wallowing ache of indecisiveness grow inside me.  I didn't want to become that girl again, the one who never came to a sound decision, but with every curveball thrown my way I was falling back into it so naturally.

Sadie reached forward to comfortingly rub my arm.  She was so good at this, comforting me and making me feel better even though my mind was still a swirling mess.  I didn't give her enough credit, or the others for that matter, and my heart squeezed at the thought.