“But this doesn’t feel like home.”
“Really? You don’t want to call this big house that you just admitted to loving your home?”
Another thing about Dad is that he loves fancy things. Things that scream of money he doesn’t have… that’s something Mammy always said.
Sure, I like the house, but it’s just a shell.
It’s not home.
“Look, maybe one day you’ll go back there. Maybe we all will.”
“You think the family will move?”
Move back to Belfast, where I lived for only two years of my life. But I loved those years best.
“Well, no. I have a job here. Commitments.”
“You had a job there when we moved last time.”
“Yeah, but work needed someone to be there. The move back there was never a permanent thing.”
“But Mammy got to stay, and so did I for a while.”
“Yeah, I know. I know you miss her and were expecting us to be together forever. I know you’re confused by this new life and having a new family. I didn’t expect her to pack you up and ship you over to me, either. I know it’s shitty of her not to want you there anymore, and I know it hurts.”
Flinching at the painful reminder, I skulk away. Dad has been back in the States for a year and a half. A lot longer than me. I’m not settled.
“It’s no different from being here.”
“That isn’t true. We do want you here.”
“Mom does.”
“We all do.”
My eyes drop to my leg, and I zip my lips.
“That was an accident, Ambrose, and it’s unfortunate that it’s put a hold on your dancing.”
I nod. He’s said that so many times over the last eight weeks…and just like every other time, a little voice in my head goes,was it?
“I know you’re upset about it, but you wouldn’t have been able to stay in that class anyway, not with the move to this place, and who knows, maybe a teacher here will think there’s hope to move forward. One teacher’s opinion doesn’t mean it’s over. It means try harder. Prove them wrong.”
Something burns down my nostrils, and I feel a lump in my throat. I can’t talk about dance, just in case that teacher was right when she said I will probably never reach my full potential now.
It hurts me because dance was all I could bring to America.
That, and one small suitcase to pack my favorite things, was all I was allowed because of the tiny apartment that we didn’t even stay in.
“Do you need me to do anything else?”
“No. You’re good. And I hope you’re good here.”
Just another nod, no words, and it has him sighing.
“Get some rest. The movers will have us up early, no doubt.”
I’m happy to get away.
