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When it trapped Kendrick, my mom, my dad, and me inside, I felt like I had a family. For that one, fleeting moment, time slowed down, the world stopped turning, and we were together. There were no pressing emails my dad had to reply to, no important phone calls he had to take, no TV. Just a family.
Playing cards in the dark.
On my twelfth birthday, remnants of a violent hurricane swept through town. We lost power. Dad and I played Go Fish for three hours with nothing but oil lamps illuminating the kitchen. Mom made us sandwiches, Kendrick picked up a book. It’d been ages since he’d bothered opening one of the novels Aunt Lauren, Winter’s mom, gifted him at Christmas.
He read it all with a flashlight that night. It was the first time he’d enjoyed something other than video games in years. I don’t think there has ever been a day where my family was happier than this.
Sitting in my car, I watch the pouring rain bounce off my windshield. Water pummels my piece of junk so hard I’m scared the glass is going to crack. I jerk at the distant thunder, glancing toward my house. It’s past eleven. My mom is still at work, and the only cars in the driveway are Kendrick’s and Will’s.
He’s still here.
I should run inside, crash into bed, and stop thinking about my dad. I’m good at that. Suppressing my emotions. Been doing it for two months now. It’s easy, really, only requires two steps. Step one: make excuses for my him. Step two: push the truth into the deepest corner of my mind.
It’s always worked before, but not this time. What Morgan said is haunting me. He’s back in town? Morgan’s mom, Ms. James, wouldn’t get this wrong.
She knows my dad, wouldn’t confuse him with somebody else. But then… why hasn’t he called? Silencing my better judgment, I dial the number I know by heart.
It rings.
Rings again.
What are you doing? If he wanted to talk to you, he would.
In a moment of panic, I rip the phone away from my ear, but a voice comes on before I can chicken out.
“Hello?”
My heart rate peaks.
I inch the phone closer, struck dumb.
“Hello?” the voice asks again.
But it’s not my dad’s.
It’s a woman.
“H-Hi…” I inhale a sharp breath. “I’m looking for Nick. Is this the right number?”
“Who’s asking?”
“His daughter.”
Silence.
A load of it.
“Oh. Hm… He’s not here right now. Can I take a message?”
“Yes. Please tell him I called, and I’d like it if he could call me back.”
“Of course.”
I don’t remember how the call ended. Or the world’s most awkward goodbye. The truth weighs on my heart when the disconnecting click reaches my ear.
He’s with somebody else.
Already.
