"When were you and Greg going to Houston?" Dad absently asked between work email and bites of eggs over easy nestled on whole grain toast. I held my breath and willed myself not to let out a big sigh. I just stared past Dad through the kitchen window, while a golf cart raced to the seventh hole at the Bassett Country Club. I considered taking one of Dad's stupid Hobby Farm Magazines, rolling it up and stabbing him like Norman Bates stabbed Janet Leigh in Psycho. Then, I decided not to because we'd just hung the shower curtains in the claw foot tub upstairs and I was tired from all that weeding in the front flower beds before breakfast. So, why bother? Besides, I didn't really think I had the upper body strength to dispose of his body.
Well anyway, last Sunday I made reservations downstairs in my office in Sterling and checked with Dad while he was finally cleaning the garage. You saw me go back and forth between my office downstairs and the garage at least three times. Remember you were watching Modern Marvels on the History Channel in the family room.
You kept checking to make sure I was doing all right each time I'd retreat from the garage. You could tell I was nearing my spastic mode. I couldn't help it, I was worrying about Dad's reaction about having to get up at "oh dark thirty" or getting stuck in traffic. Anyhow, the only flights I could get that didn't cost a thousand bucks a pop to Houston were out of BWI and in the afternoon just around rush hour, which could take us nearly two and half hours from Sterling. So you know that I DID tell Dad about the airport and DID check with him on the timing and DID just offer to leave the car in long term parking.
"You don't have to drive us to Baltimore like I said last week. I don't want to be a bother." I barked, putting my plate in the dishwasher and dropping my fork on the floor. Dad looked up from his damn laptop like I was from another planet.
"I didn't say that Nance. I just asked a simple question. When was I supposed to take you and Greg to Baltimore?" Dad was calm, which pissed me off even more.
"September 9th. I DID email you the itinerary when I made the reservations." I plopped down hard on my kitchen chair and nearly tipped over the trash can when I landed to check MY email.
"Here it is." I said maximizing Exhibit A to full screen size. "I forwarded it to you when I made the reservation on the 9th of August.
"See." I said, turning the screen for Dad to see. "The flight leaves at 5:55 from BWI." Dad closed his laptop a lot harder than usual and started fidgeting with the mole on the back of his neck.
"What, do you want the airline too?" I glared. Without missing a beat, I added. "Continental."
"Nance, why are you on my ass?"
"I'm not." I headed outside, car keys, in hand. Dad stood between me and the back door.
"The SUV needs an oil change." I said trying to get past Dad. "I need to take care of it." Tears rolled down my cheeks.
"The oil change can wait." Dad said reaching to hug me. "Or I can do it."
"It's just that I don't know if the treatment is working." I said muffled into Dad's chest.
"I know." Dad said. "Neither do I."
By the time, Dad let go there were two big wet spots on his favorite yellow shirt. But, I felt better. I sniffed really hard and said something about my nose running. Dad kissed me and said his corny canned joke about "you better go catch it." I shook my head and laughed a little, then I decided to get the oil changed so I wouldn't have to mow.
I wanted to talk to you, but knew you were busy at work. So I texted, "BiZ" our shorthand for Believe in Zebras and "No response required" from the SUV in the driveway. On the way to get the oil changed, I thought of the times we talked about the Law of Attraction and the need for contrast so you knew what you did want. Thankfully, I had my bluetooth headset on, so the guy with the mullet in the pickup truck next to me at the stoplight couldn't tell that I was talking to myself.
"I want the treatment to work so you can get on with your life. I want to be annoyed by normal everyday things like figuring out what to have for dinner. I want to know there is more than this. I want you to get your own place and ask to borrow tools. I want all of us to learn to play an instrument and start a family band so we can play on holidays. I want to be present in the moment. I want Dad to win the lottery because it would just be fun to see him excited. I want a vacation home in Hawaii so we get the Aloha spirit on a regular basis. I want to be aware of all the goodness around me. I want to find good airfares back to Houston. But, mostly I want the treatment to work"
I glanced over at mullet guy, smiled because I knew what I wanted.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment