A Fine Christmas Day

4. Coming Home

'Where's my dad?'
Silence.
'Where. Is. My. Dad?'
Silence.
'Where's my dad, uncle Anderson?' I was desperate now.

I started shaking and breathing heaving seeing which Rex quickly came by side and held me in his arms. I couldn't think of anything else but my dad now. How he promised me on Thanksgiving that he's coming home on my birthday. For Christmas.

'Anderson, what happened?' Mum asked him.
'Just tell, dammit. Where is he? Isn't he coming today? He promised me. Mamma, daddy promised me. Is he gonna be late?' I kept firing questions at him.

Trust me, this is the first time in weeks I'm seeing a sad face. Not just sad, but broken. I don't know how to explain but as if a different aura captivated the room as soon as I opened the door to reveal Uncle Anderson.

'I'm sorry, Libby.' He apologised keeping his head down.

'Don't call me that. That's what only my dad calls me.' I was beyond angry now. Not because of he called me Libby but because he came alone.

'Olivia.' He cleared his thought, then turned to mum. 'Mrs. Mathews, I'm afraid I have bad news.'

And I saw them. His eyes. His eyes were red and on the verge of tears. He is dad's best friend from childhood, almost a brother and a navy like him. I have always seen him strong and confident, never stuttering. He always smiles and laughs out loud never sheds a tear. And here he was, on the verge of tears. He didn't need to speak a single more word for his eyes were speaking a thousand emotions.

I was looking nowhere else but straight into his eyes. I heard mum's voice, 'Oh, Jesus' and she broke into sobs. And finally, uncle closed his eyes letting the tears flow. I couldn't talk. I couldn't utter a single word. I lost my balance. As if in a second, somebody injected out all my energy. And I let myself fall. Into the floor. The hard cold floor.

In a moment, the world was turned upside down. Nolan and the girls rushed towards me and held me. The girls started crying. I could feel Rex and Nolan sobbing too. My mum was sitting there, a complete mess. My grandma and grandpa were confronting her. And I heard other relatives sobbing too. And I heard Uncle Anderson confirming to my paternal grandpa that his son, the brave military son, Max Mathews is dead. Said they were coming home after winning the battle when opposition party bombed their Jeep. And this was it. My world was taken. I was so angry. So devastated and heartbroken but I couldn't speak. For hours, I was sitting there. Everyone came, tried to get me up. But, I couldn't move. I couldn't believe he was gone. I don't believe he is.

My mind kept racing to my childhood days when he used to come home. My mind went to all the old memories, memories I didn't know existed. Memories of Christmas, my Birthdays, Thanksgiving, memories of being on my daddy's arm and whatnot. I couldn't cry though. While everyone was a sobbing mess, I didn't even shed a tear. I was too shocked to do so. I just sat there in oblivion. Losing myself into nothingness.

Mum came to me. It was hours later, I assume. I'm sure it took her a lot of courage to do so. She sat beside me. She kept talking to me. How he is still here, he is looking at us, he wouldn't want me to sit here like a stone. I wanted to scream, shout at her. At the world. At the Universe. At the people who bombed the Jeep. At dad for even joining the Military. But I couldn't. She started crying again. Holding me, this time. She kept crying until she couldn't anymore but I? I couldn't. I just can't. I should be a mess right now. But, here I am still sitting in the same place, looking at the door with a mind that keeps racing to all the memories of my dad and I. As a family. As a happy family.

I don't wanna be in a tomorrow without my dad.