“Come in.” I beamed.
“Are you sure? Looks like you’re about to head out.”
“Um…yeah, but it can wait.” I wasn’t prepared to tell my dad about whatever Rick and I were. For all I knew he’d make of it, I’d moved here for a guy.
“So, you want to show me around? What have you been up to here?” he said in his best attempts at sounding excited.
I smiled at him thoughtfully. “What are you doing here?” I was thrilled to see him, and pretty sure I had an idea of why he came. But I wasn’t bracing myself to hear it just yet. I knew my dad too well.
“Can’t a dad fly out to visit hisonlychild just because?” He looked around my room, distracted.
“Of course. I’m so glad you’re here. I want to show you around. I just need to make a phone call.”
“What’d you think? I’m only in town for a few hours? I’ll be all right. You go do what it was you needed to do, I’ll go look at some shops I saw along the boardwalk. Marci will kill me if I don’t bring back a frame for her, or something.”
I really liked Marci, but I was glad my dad came to see me alone. “Okay. I won’t be long.” And maybe I wouldn’t come back alone, I thought giddily.
“Won’t you need an umbrella?”
“No, the coat’s enough. I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“Okay.”
I ran out and headed down the stairs just as it started to pour. I paused and debated if I should run back for that umbrella. I was already running late, but I also didn’t want to be drenched and freezing later. I sighed and jogged back to the room. I opened my door and reached for my gray umbrella, when I noticed my dad had laid his backpack on the floor.
I always had a superstition about bags on floors, so I lifted it and set it on a chair by the kitchen counter. In the front pocket, I saw his travel papers and was curious to see when he was going back.
There was something strange about his return flight. It wasn’t the fact that he was planning on leaving in a few days. It was that there were two tickets.
A moment later, Dad came out of the bathroom, drying off his face and hands.
“Dad, why do you have two plane tickets back home?”
He stared at the pamphlets I held tightly in my hand and put the towel on my dresser. “Amy, I want you to come back home with me.”
“What? On Friday?” I stammered. I knew where this was going and couldn’t find better words.
“Yes. This Friday. That should give you plenty of time to tie up some loose ends here and pack up.” He waved his hand around as if he’d just asked me to clean my room.
“Loose ends?” I scowled. “Dad it’s barely the middle of the summer; I’m not abandoning my job or my kids.” I stared and waited for him to process that thought, but it didn’t seem to matter to him. He needed to know something else. So, with a single exhaled breath, I gave it to him. “Dad, I’m happy here.”
“It didn’t sound like it when I talked to you.”
I snorted. “Well, did you even consider that maybe I sounded upset because I didn’twantto come home?”
“I don’t think that’s true. I think all this is a cry for attention.”
I threw my hands in the air and turned away as tears burned in my eyes. I held back a scream. A cry for attention? How dare he even think that?
“You need help deciding on a future for yourself,” he burst out.
“Why? Why do I need to decide now?”
“Because the longer you wait, the more likely you’ll be to drop out.”
“Is that you think? That I want to quit school?”
“It sure as hell looks like that’s what this is.”
