Page 13 of Seeing Harper

Clay nodded as he took a plate out of the cabinet and put a couple of pieces of pizza on it before popping it into the microwave for a few seconds.

“Whoa, whoa, don’t do that,” Richie said.

“What? I’m warming it for you.”

“Put it in the air fryer. It comes out like it was just made.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“Watch and learn, son,” Richie said, teasing him as he pushed him gently out of the way to put the pizza into the air fryer.

Clay put his pizza into the fridge after he watched his dad set the air fryer so he’d know how to do it later, then he leaned against the counter top and waited with his father for the timer to go off.

“You alright? You seem thoughtful,” Richie said.

“Yeah, pretty much. Just like you said, thinking.”

Richie nodded to himself, giving his son room and time to think his way through whatever it was that was bothering him.

The timer buzzed, letting Richie know the pizza was ready.

“That’s it, it’s already ready? What, two or three minutes?” Clay asked.

“It’s still a little warm. I just wanted to get the crust crispy again. If you use the air fryer later, put it in for about five minutes if you’re taking it out of the fridge.”

“Alright,” Clay said.

Richie took a seat at the table

Clay sat down across from him.

Richie took a bite of pizza and watched Clay as he chewed, waiting for Clay to decide to reveal whatever it was that had him not quite himself tonight.

“Could we talk?” Clay finally asked.

“Yes. You already know that. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Clay nodded, then he fidgeted a little trying to decide where to start. Finally he just blurted it out. “I’m not happy.”

That was not what Richie expected to hear. “In general, or about something in particular?”

Clay hesitated again, then looked his father in the eye, deciding to stand firm on what he wanted. “School. I hate it. I don’t want to do it.”

“I know.”

Clay sat back in his chair. “You do?”

“I do. So does your mom. But you seemed to have decided it was what you wanted, and we figured if you decided you hated it, you’d stop going. If you liked it and stayed, that was fine, too.”

“Why didn’t you say anything about it?”

“Because it’s your life. We’d discussed it to death — many times. You just didn’t know what you wanted, but you had an opportunity to explore it with no risks. Your scholarship paid for it. I’ve watched you be less and less happy each time you came home this last year. Every time I asked if you were okay, and each time you’d say yes. I knew when you were ready, or had decided what you needed to be happy, you’d make a move one way or the other.”

“So, you won’t be disappointed if I don’t go back?”

“Not at all. It’s only three more weeks until the end of the semester, though. You might want to just tough it out so you at least get the credit for the classes you’re taking this semester. But, that’s your choice, too.” Richie laced his fingers together and rested his forearms and hands on the table in front of himself. “I don’t care what you do, Clay. As long as you’re happy. That’s what’s important. That’s all that matters.”

Clay smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”