Fractured from the Fall

With Cloudiness Comes Clarity

Lily paused in her tracks. What was Ford's truck doing at her father's house and why was he parked so far away? How long had he been here? Is that why she couldn't find him at the party after their awkward conversation?

She approached the truck slowly and peered in the window. Ford was nowhere to be found. Lily cupped her hands around her eyes for a better look but all she saw were his keys sitting on the dash. Not locking your car was one thing, but leaving your keys on the dash was next level trust that you could only find in a small town. The complete lack of criminal activity in this community was almost off putting. The worst offense was cow tipping. Everyone was too "good" in Oakley. Just another reason why she felt like she didn't belong.

If Ford wasn't in the truck, then Lily reasoned he must be in the house. She straightened out her dress and pulled her hair in front of her shoulders then rolled her eyes and shook her head at how ridiculous she was being. You're just here for a couple of days and then you're going back to your real life, she reminded herself.

Pushing open the front door, she peeked inside and slowly moved her head from side to side, scanning her eyes around the home, looking for her father and Ford. She heard voices coming from the living room and took a deep breath.

She tried to act casual as she strutted into the room, or more like wobbled, as she was still slightly intoxicated. And while she may have appeared cool as a cucumber, her heart was racing at the idea of Ford sitting in her father's living room. She was nervous about what Ford and her father had been talking about while she made the long walk home from Bennie's house. He could have spilled the whole story of her divorce and demolished any chance Lily had of saving face in front of Ford and frankly the whole town, since news traveled at lightening speed around Oakley. 

She was nervous about facing Ford after their conversation, but most importantly, she was nervous about having to explain to her father why she had returned without his truck. She hiccuped and realized she was drunker than she would like to be in front of her father. After the night she had had, the last thing she needed was him chastising her for drinking too much.

But when she stepped into the living room she found her father asleep in the chair where she had left him. The voices she heard were coming from the television. She shook her head at the fact that her father was still falling asleep in front of the TV even after all these years. For a long time she thought it was because he wanted to wait up for her to come home, but she often found him there on nights when she stayed in. Now that Lily was older and knew what it was like to be alone, she wondered if his sleeping in the living room with the TV on was his way of not going to bed alone. Come to think of it, she never remembered him doing this when her mother was still around. Her heart broke for her father and all he had endured over the years. She was so wrapped up in her teenage drama that his loneliness went unnoticed, or at least unaknowledged. Now that she was an adult, she understood his pain in a new way and she felt bad for not being there for him more.

Lily grabbed an old quilt from the couch and draped it across her father, then gave him a light kiss on the forehead and went to her room. She quietly shut the door and tossed her jean jacket on her sister's bed. She glanced at herself in the mirror. Her hair was slightly disheveled and her cheeks were flush from the walk home or from the alcohol, probably both. She tugged at the bags under her eyes trying to pull the skin taunt like it used to be when she was young, followed by pressing her fingertip to the skin under her eyebrow to give herself a temporary lift. Everything was droopier these days. She plopped down on her bed in defeat. Even with all the plastic surgery she could ever want at her fingertips, father time was still impossible to run from. It was a marathon, not a sprint. 

Lily kicked off her boots and rubbed her swollen feet. She didn't remember her boots hurting so much. If she could manage an evening in sky high Louboutins, she could certainly handle a few hours in her old boots. She threw her head back on the pillow, crossed her legs and stared up at the ceiling trying to relax and forget about the uncomfortable evening, when she heard a sound that made her jump. It was a very light persistent tapping that was coming from her window. She couldn't help but smile at the familiar sound. She had almost completely forgotten about Ford's truck, but as soon as she heard the sound, she knew it was him. She got up off of the bed and pushed up the window. There stood Ford, in the dark of the night, with a hand full of pebbles.