Left (Left 1)

Liv

No one understood me like my father. He always gave advice that spoke to the very heart of who I am. He guided me to my choice without making them for me and lifted the blinders I wore when trying deal with individual decisions. Adolescence was hell for me. In a time where being a geek wasn’t cool I liked, comics, kung fu movies, books, and anime. I was tall, curvy, and in the eyes of many, a square peg trying to fit into a round hole. I did things because they felt right to me, regardless of trends, which often lead to ridicule.

Daddy would be the first person to tell me if they didn’t like me as I was they could kiss my ass because there was nothing wrong with me. I needed that. My mother’s a strong woman. A fighter, who tried to pass her strength onto me through brute force. She knew the ugliness the world had to offer, and she didn’t want me caught unaware. I respect her for that, but when you’re a teen who thinks you’ll never be loved because you’re too different, what you need is a gentle touch.

Society lies. They tell us what’s wrong with us without saying a word. It’s a lie by omission. If you only show one body type, one lifestyle, and one train of thought, by default you’re saying anyone different is in the wrong. It took me years to understand that. I sink in front of the headstone. This is where I come when I lost my way. To the man who always acted as my compass.

I place a tiny bouquet of white roses down beside me.

“Look, Daddy, the rose bushes are prospering again this year. Don’t worry. I asked mom if it was okay to take a few to bring to you. She guards that thing with her life. It’s funny. You were the one with the green thumb, and she couldn’t keep a house plant alive to save her life. Now she’s explaining arrangements she’s learned about on the internet. It’s adorable.” I toy with the soft gray skirt that flows down my body and tickles the tip of the toes. “I don’t know what to do Daddy. I was doing fine. I like my job. I have a set of friends I can trust. There are no birth children, but I’m a damn Godmother. I thought I was happy. Then he kissed me and turned my entire world upside down. I don’t know what it means.

I haven’t been with anyone since, Anthony, and he hasn’t’ been with anyone since Rain. Was it a moment of lust by proximity? I’m not a coward. But this scares the piss out of me. He’s my best friend, and those children are my world. This could ruin everything we’ve worked so hard to build over the past few years. Part of me thinks it already has ‘cause I can’t stop thinking about him.” I close my eyes.

The details in my dream increase nightly. I’m waking up wet, achy, and more confused with each day that passes. Phoenix’s questions opened up a can of worms. Now everything between Houston and I is an awkward mess. “I always thought the arrangement Hous and I have benefitted the kids. Now, I’m not so sure. Did I overstep my bounds and warp their sense of things? Has my selfishness prevented Houston from finding a woman who’ll help him raise them as their mother? He’s the only one who understands what I went through and then some. I didn’t mean to hold on to him so tightly.” Guilt wraps around me like a boa constrictor. My throat swells. “I’d never do anything to hurt them. You know that. I’m not sure how to move forward now.”

It’s been weeks since I saw Houston in person and I can still feel his lips against mine, and the weight of his body pressed against me. That scares the living shit out of me. I’m a coward. I admit it. I see the kids on days he’s working late, and their nanny, Brigid has them. I’m out before he comes home.

“I can’t keep avoiding him. We have a weekend trip we leave for tomorrow. What do I do?” I close my eyes and let the tears flow. The relief is immense. A gentle breeze caresses my cheek, and I swear I can feel the ghost of a hug. I know he’s here. I release the anxiety, sadness, and stress, and let the peace settle into my soul. For the first time in weeks, my mind is clear. I have a decision to make. I’m going to go all in or we’re going to pretend this never happened. Either way. I need to speak with Houston before we take this trip. Everyone will sense the discord.

“Thanks Dad, you always know the right thing to say,” I whisper. I wipe away my tears and continue the conversation, filling him on all the things that’ve been going on. It’s been over fifteen years since I lost my father, but I sense him around me constantly, and always see signs of his presence. It’s a comfort to me. While I can’t have him here physically, he’s not completely gone. Finished with my conversation, I kiss my finger tips and place them on his headstone as I rise.

“See you soon, Daddy.”

I walk toward the car refreshed and determined. I’m not willing to risk what we’ve built for a roll in the hay that may or may not turn into more. I hope Houston sees it that way. I check my watch. It’s just after five thirty; Houston will be home. I pull back onto the dirt path and make my way out of the cemetery and into the Austin rush hour traffic.

I steer into the driveway, cut the engine and sit. It’s the only time I’ve dreaded going to the place I consider a second home. Queasy, I put a hand on my stomach and lean back in my seat. I take a deep breath and leave the car before I talk myself out of it. I lift my hand to knock, and the door opens.

“I thought I might have to come out and get you,” he says. His tone is neutral, and his expression is guarded.

“A few more minutes and you might’ve had to,” I admit.

“Are you here to back out of the trip tomorrow?"

“No. I wouldn’t do that,” I say. I'm that he thinks I’d flake.

“You’ve been dodging me lately. What was I supposed to think?” His voice is so cold it could be winter.

“I told you I needed time."

“Yes, which means a few days, not weeks with no contact what so ever.”

“I needed to be alone to think.”

“And now?” He arches a brow.

“Now I’m ready to talk.” I’ve never him be so standoffish toward me. It leaves me chilled and uncomfortable. “Don’t be like this, Houston. It’s hard enough.”

“You’re the one person I count on to always be there. You shut me out –

“No, I took some time for myself.” I correct him.

“That’s not what it felt like.” His sharp words sting me. I did the one thing I was trying to avoid doing. I hurt him. Grip his arms.

“Hous, I’m sorry. I took a time out to prevent this.”

“Prevent what?”

“Any hurt. I needed to process to keep my foot out of my mouth.”