In the kitchen, eating toast and jam for breakfast, I wondered how he and Kim had gotten along. I knew I would be hearing from her before the weekend was over though.
In the meantime, I mentally prepared for visiting with my father; there was no telling what mood he would be in. Over the years, he had sacrificed so much to give me a chance to attend a decent university.
My school loans were still not paid off, but I’d been sidetracked after losing my job as a freelance journalist. Granted, the editing gig paid reasonably well—about double the national poverty rate—but it wasn’t much. It simply paid the bills and kept me in my general field of writing.
Yet there I sat, eating toast and jam every morning instead of going out to brunch with someone I loved.
Fuck my life.
* * *
I found myself sitting across from my father at his round kitchen table. The leaf for the middle hadn’t been used in years. He stared at me with disapproving eyes, never satisfied with me.
“Go on,” he said.
“That’s it. I can’t decide between two men even though it’s an obvious choice.” I sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know why I’m even telling you.”
“Well, I have my mother hat on, but let me take that off a moment.”
“Please don’t, Dad. How’s work going?”
“Fine. I’ll be traveling again soon.”
“I still don’t see how being a traveling salesman is your dream job.”
“You’ve got a lot to learn about life then, young lady.”
“I’ve been places in the world, Dad. I’m not a little kid anymore.”
“Thank God for that.”
I smiled.
“Now, let’s talk about these men,” he said. “They are men, right? Not boys?”
“Yes, Dad. I told you about Warren and Melvin. Remember when I got back from Afghanistan?”
“Yeah. That’s when your career went to shit and you started working for those smut publishers.”
“They publish romance novels, Dad. It’s not like that.”
He shook his head. “If your mother was around…”
Both of us fell silent a few moments. I took another drink of his fresh squeezed lemonade. The bittersweet taste reminded me of childhood, back when my dreams seemed possible and nothing was capable of standing in my way.
“I don’t know why I even concern myself with Melvin. I think Warren is the one for me,” I said.
“But it sounds like Melvin is the one who would keep you safe.”
Safe from other people, maybe. But not safe from himself, I thought with a grimace.
“But love is about more than that, isn’t it?” I said, looking up at my father.
“If your mother were here, she would tell you that’s not true.”
A wave of sadness washed over me as pain washed over my father’s face. I put my hand on his arm, but he pulled away.
“You can’t keep using her death to beat yourself up, Dad. It’s not healthy.”