I Eat Oreos

11

Kayla

Gavin would call. I could imagine it now. Long hours on the phone debating about how ugly his Jeep is and when and how to help people who are in need. I was happy. I liked the way we talked already. I would love to hear about his day and even though he complained quite a bit it seemed, I'm sure I could get him to say one nice thing about it.

Mrs. Rosenburg wouldn't stop teasing me about him. I told her we were just becoming friends but she acted as though she could see into the future or something. Knowing Gavin, he wasn't interested in nothing but staying to himself.

We spent the rest of the day together. He mostly did so to avoid his mother. She kept popping up and smiling trying to get a few words in. She'd ask him questions like how was work and did he still live in South Carolina. Honestly, I was proud of Gavin. His responses weren't top-notch but at least he was respectful. I'd rather him be short with her than snappy.

The next day, Gavin went to South Carolina to bury Uncle Terry. His family didn't go and Gavin didn't want them to. I really wanted to go but Gavin said he wanted to be alone. I didn't want him to be alone.

It was sort of okay, I had my own grave to visit.

Bernard "Bernie" Todd

August 21, 1982 - July 15, 2015

I clutched the flowers in my hands staring at the piece of granite. Regret filled me quickly. I wanted to go back and say yes. I wanted to show him which room he was staying in. I wanted to tell him he could stay as long as he needed. I just wanted another chance.

I placed the flowers down gently next to the ones my mom laid down earlier. She'd come by herself as well. Mama was just as hurt, if not more than me. She was the one that officially turned him away.

I stood there for a minute reciting the vow I'd made to myself each year this time came around. Always trust the Holy Spirit's words, not your own. You don't know everything.

When I arrived home, it felt so good to see my daddy's car in the driveway. I grinned wide and quickly walked inside. He was sitting at the dining room table with Mama and Mrs. Rosenburg talking about his days at work.

Daddy would stay in a condo in Atlanta whenever he worked several days at a time. I missed him so often, but I knew he was helping people and that was important.

"There's my baby!" he shouted getting up and hurrying toward me. He picked me up and spun me around. My daddy was tall and lean. He was always serious about being healthy. He'd seen the effects of poor eating on his patients and knew he didn't want us to be like that. He always made sure Mama had some sort of fruits and vegetables whenever she cooked.

He placed me down and patted my head. "What you been up to?" He asked. "School and the house, of course. I don't do anything else."

With a raised eyebrow, he gave me a questioning look. "Oh really? That's it, huh? So you haven't been going around with someone that's not Erica?"

I looked at Mama and Mrs. Rosenburg with a glare. They just talked way too much.

"Maybe..." I said not really wanting to go down this road. Daddy wasn't one of those, "I got a shotgun and I ain't afraid to use it" kind of dad's but he still was something. I knew he'd be watching Gavin like a hawk and I didn't want that extra pressure on him.

"It's a yes or no," he said. Ugh, this bald-headed man. "Yes, daddy, but it's nothing. He's a friend now and he's been going through a tough time. As a follower of Christ, I want to make sure that I am a comforter. That's what Jesus would do."

He looked at me with suspicion. Rightly, so. I knew that Gavin was so doggone cute. I knew those green eyes could be a bit hypnotizing. I knew that smile was as white as the cream in the Oreo's. So, maybe I wanted to be around him for those reasons too. Was that bad?

"So, daddy, how you been?" I asked trying to change the conversation. We sat down at the table with Mama and Mrs. Rosenburg.

"Working hard and very tired," he said. My daddy had been a surgeon for 15 years already. He told me it was something he always wanted to do ever since he was a little boy and played Operation. I remember him trying to get me to like it, but I just wasn't interested. I knew I was meant to work directly in the Church building.

"How long you staying?" I asked. "Trying to get rid of me? Is it that boy?"

"Daddy, no!" I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm just wondering. You know you work a lot." He looked at me for a second with a bit of sorrow on his face. Nodding he got up from the table and went somewhere else. Mama sighed and followed him. Had I said something wrong? He did work a lot and I wasn't angry but it was bothersome at times.

"Don't you worry. Your daddy is always concerned about you and your mother. He's not walking off because he's angry with you, he's walking off 'cause he's mad at himself."

Guilt consumed me. I didn't want to remind him and make him feel bad. I knew he worked hard and I was proud of him. Ever since I was a young girl people would give me that shocked and awed look when I told them my dad was a surgeon. It felt good to say my daddy saved lives. Everyone is meant to help others in some way. That's the way God intended it and I didn't want to stop him from doing that.

Not long after, I went to the backyard and found him sitting in one of the chairs. I sat down and he smiled at me. It was an apologetic smile, but I didn't want him to apologize. I didn't say anything at first; I wanted to put my words together. But I didn't have to.

"I hope you know I care about you, and I love you more than I love my job," he stated unwaveringly.

"I do know, Daddy."

"I would stop working... for you." I shook my head. "But Daddy, you don't have to. You shouldn't have to. I don't want to stop you from doing something you love. You've always been there for me. Sure, you've missed some important events, but you manage to make so many others. God has blessed you with time. It could be worse."

He looked at me with a wide smile on his face. "That's just like my baby girl; always trying to make somebody feel better. God's blessed you with the gift of comfort and you use it so well. I'm proud of you."

His comment made me so happy. I hopped up and hugged him. I was thankful for both of my parents. Even though my dad wasn't always around, I still felt so close to him. He called every day and/or at least texted. Some people wouldn't think it was much, but he was trying.

All I could ever ask anyone to do was to at least try.