If he could think me capable of that, then I wasn’t the person he needed, and he certainly wasn’t what I needed. But then I would think about how deeply we connected on every possible level, and I would wonder if I wasn’t holding him to some unrealistic expectation. Shouldn’t he know better? Shouldn’t he do better?
What if he never even read the story and still had this awful version of me in his head?
I was stuck in limbo, and it sucked.
But as the days ticked by, and Kevin still had his cushy job, the paper continued to publish stories funded by evil corporate monsters, and people like Levi thought me capable of the most massive type of betrayal; I started to wonder if nothing actuallymattered.
I had felt a glimmer of it. Hope. A moment of “it’s okay, nothing really matters, but people do.” And the time we have. That warmth from the night I danced with Levi as I watched the people of Cozy Creek celebrate another passing season, I had a little taste of humanity. The stories that I posted to my online journal. They were nothing but also somehow everything. There was good, humans were fun little silly things, and life was sweet.
But maybe life just sucked.
Maybe I needed a snack.
I sighed and wondered how much longer I could sit here in inactivity when my phone vibrated in my hand.
Normally, the sight of my dad calling wouldn’t cause an instant lump of dread in my throat like a hot ball of iron. I slid to answer the video call.
“Nooooo,” I whined by greeting.
“I know, Claire Bear, I’m sorry.” If Dad was calling me, then he wasn’t about to land, and if he wasn’t about to land, that meant he wasn’t coming. I ground my jaw to keep from whining anymore, but lately, I was like a brand-new little baby capable of crying for communication’s sake.
“They made us disembark,” he explained, looking haggard. People behind him were in similar states of distress and dishevelment. “We were all set and ready to go and deicing the wings, but the storm hit way bigger than they thought. They canceled all flights to and from Midway and O’Hare.”
“Damn. Damn.” My thighs were going numb from sitting onthis milk crate, but all I felt like doing was melting into the personified version of “wallow.” Would I spend another desolate night in my storage unit? Would I be doomed to repeat the history I tried so hard to avoid?
What I really wanted to say was, “What the hell? Life was so unfair, and everything was dumb and stupid, and I hated everything.”
“What should I do?” I asked pitifully.
I was tired of making the next plan. I had been making one choice after another since Thanksgiving. Sincecollege. I was tired of stupid grown-up life and stupid hard decisions. I just wanted to rest.
The plan had been for Dad to fly to Colorado Springs where all my stuff was in storage still, thankfully(?) and then we would drive down to Chicago, where I would reluctantly move into my childhood home because my life was a mixed-up cluster and all my strong morals and careful planning got me nothing at all.
“I really need to eat something,” I grumbled to myself.
“The earliest I can get out if the weather doesn’t get too bad is tomorrow, but it’s not lookin’ good, kiddo. Most likely two more days.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Don’t make the trembly looking face. It’s breaking my heart.”
“It’s not your fault.” I took a breath in and out. “I’m feeling sad and frustrated and unsure, but that’s okay, and it will pass. I won’t always feel this way.” Even as I said it, my bottom lip got more trembly.
“Aw, I’m so glad you like your new therapist. She is right. I know it sucks, but I will be there soon,” he said.
The therapist worked with me through some of the trauma of my mom’s sudden death when I was in college and the impact it had on me. It was constant work reprogramming my traumatized brain, but it was helping.
I nodded; my chin now wobbled uncontrollably.
The storage unit was a two-story concrete block with the appealing aesthetic of a prison. Fitting for how trapped I felt at this moment. I heard shuffling and clicking steps of shoes coming up the metal staircase and stilled.
I stared back at the screen. Maybe Dad was tricking me? But no, I very clearly saw the all too familiar look of Midway behind him.
My heart hammered with hope. Maybe it was Levi. Maybe he was about to come and apologize, solve all my problems, and whisk me away, as he had done so many times before. I slowly came to stand and stared in the direction of the approaching footfalls.
But he couldn’t. No man could. I had to figure this stupid adult stuff out on my own.
But the cadence wasn’t right. The shoes sounded too shiny to be Levi.
