Chasing Forever

18. Late Night Visitor

     When I finally got back to my apartment, I only had two books with me. 

     It felt silly to drive all that way and not get any at all, but I wasn't exactly in the mood to read after the altercation outside the house. 

     I quickly changed into shorts and a t-shirt that fit me better. It was entirely too hot to spend that much time in sweats. 

     I curled up on my bed and sighed. I spent so much time alone these days, but I was never really alone. It was weird. Every time I wanted to let myself get upset and just lose it, I had to remind myself that stress was bad for the babies. 

     I knew that I shouldn't let the things Mr. Evans said get to me. I really did. It wasn't as simple as it sounded, though. 

     The hardest part wasn't even the hurtful things that he said to me. The idea that I was responsible for ruining my dad's oldest friendship hurt. It hurt a lot. 

     I picked my phone up and decided to call my dad. It rang and rang, but he didn't answer. I wasn't surprised, though. He was a busy man and he couldn't always come to the phone anytime I called. I waited for the beep, and left a message. 

     "Hey, dad. I was just calling to apologize. I know that you didn't ask for this. Me messing up your friendship with Mr. Evans, I mean. I'm just really sorry. You should call him, hangout. Sorry again, dad." 

     I hung up the phone, and held in frustrated tears. My hormones and insecurities were both raging. Sometimes in life you just need someone to hold you tight and tell you that everything was going to be alright. For me, this was one of those times. 

     At some point I drifted off to sleep, because when I woke up to the sound of knocking at my apartment door it was completely dark. 

     I fumbled to turn the lamp on next to the bed, and then slowly walked out to see who was at the door. 

     I felt like I was in some kind of weird dream when I opened the door and saw my father standing there in a black t-shirt and jeans. I lived with the man for a year and a half and had never seen him look so casual. 

     "Dad? What are you doing here? You weren't supposed to be back so soon." 

     I took a step backwards so that he could come inside, and he closed the door behind him. 

     "I might not have been the perfect father your whole life, but I would do anything for you. Hearing your sad voice on that message was enough to get me on the next plane here." He looked me up and down, and I hoped my eyes weren't still puffy from crying. "Honey, talk to me. What happened that made you call me like that earlier?" 

     I didn't like to lie to my dad. Not at all. Some people seemed to think being able to pull one over on their parents was funny and awesome, but it made my stomach twist. It always seemed to make me feel slimy. 

     I had already put a strain on his friendship with David without even trying to and I didn't think that I could bring myself to make it any worse. Telling the truth would undoubtedly make it worse. 

     "It's just been an emotional couple of days. I guess maybe I'm just feeling very anxious about everything in general. Running into Bobby made me think about the Evans family, and it made me wish that you were still close with your best friend." 

     He stared at me for awhile, and I could tell that he could see right through me and my phony story. 

     "I know you well enough to know when you're hiding something, but I also know when I shouldn't push you. Do you want me to make you some tea so we can talk?" 

     I couldn't help the giggle that escaped before I quickly shook my head. 

     "It's the middle of the night. You really don't have to."

     "If you want to talk though, I'm all ears..." I gave him an indulgent smile, and then shook my head again. 

     "Maybe tomorrow, dad. Right now I just want to go back to bed. I'm tired." 

     "Do you want me to stay with you?" I felt bad sending him away after he had come back just for me, but I had to. 

     "A few hours ago I would have said yes. I don't want to be babied, though. I need to get a little tougher before I have my babies. They can't have a spineless crybaby as a mom who needs her daddy to come spend the night anytime she had a bad day." 

     "I know that it's hard on you that you're going to be a single mother, but you aren't alone. It's okay for you to need people. Mason and I are both going to be willing and eager to help once the kids are here. You're going to be the death of me if you keep being so hard on yourself. I'll come over tomorrow, and we can talk and watch movies. Okay?" 

     I knew that he was right, and I was being too hard on myself. I was still seventeen years old. No one expected me to have everything figured out right now. Wanting to prove that I could do it all, even this young, was my biggest fault. 

     "Thanks for flying out here to check on me. You're a really great dad. I appreciate it a lot." 

     The way his face lit up at my compliment made me feel so good inside. The best part was, it was true. He was such a great father to me. 

     "Anything for you. I'll see you tomorrow, kid. Make sure that you lock the door behind me. Deadbolt, too, please." 

     I nodded my head and couldn't help smiling at him worrying about me still, and made sure to securely lock the door once he was out. 

     As much as I wanted to just go right back to bed, now that I was awake I wanted a snack. So, I ended up cooking an entire meal. I realized that I had skipped dinner with all of my emotional turmoil going on. 

     As I grabbed a pack of chicken out of the fridge to season for the oven, I texted my dad to let him know I was going to be up for a couple of hours if he wanted to come back down. 

     A few minutes passed and I didn't hear anything, so I figured I missed out on the father daughter time and he went to bed. Suddenly, there was another knock at my door. 

     Five minutes later, we were drinking tea at the table while our dinner cooked in the oven. I was in luck that he had skipped his meal to come see me. 

     Even though I didn't tell him what exactly had upset me still, I felt so much lighter with every second we talked. My mom would have pushed me to talk about it even if I wasn't ready, but my dad was always just ready to listen to whatever I readily wanted to talk about and I loved him for that quality.