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When Mom followed him, I followed her. As always, when that phone would ring, I never truly understood what was happening. Because of how this day was opening my eyes, I now saw the desperation on my mother’s face. Silently, she was pleading for her husband to do right by his family. How had I missed this for years? Young and dumb, I guess, but I wasn’t missing much anymore. Now, I was by her side, doing some silent pleading of my own.
Not realizing what was taking place behind him, Dad stopped walking while talking on the phone. “What? Now?” He ran a ringed hand through his longer hair. “Yeah, alright. I’ll come—” Peering over his shoulder, he seemed surprised to see us there, waiting. Hoping…
His mouth parted. His grey eyes saddened.
They stared at us while he spoke into the phone, “Yeah, I’m still here.” He exhaled. “Umm… I can’t come right now. Get my VP to handle it.” After a tap on the phone to end the call, he slowly pivoted so that the rest of his body faced us. He tossed the phone onto a living room chair, then quietly said, “I will do my best to be here for more dinners.”
Pain sliced my young heart as I witnessed my mom nervously suck on her lips, nodding, tears forming in her eyes.
“Aw, babe.” Dad grabbed his chest.
From Mom’s arms, Ev’s teeny finger caught a falling tear from Mom’s face. “Mama sa-ad?”
“Aw, fuck.” He came to us. “Char, don’t cry.” Mom and her two kids were wrapped up in a hug. It felt good. I felt we were uniting… until Dad opened his trap and said, “Babe, you got some Bloody Mary days kickin’?”
That was Dad’s way of referring to Mom’s menstrual cycle.
Mom froze. Then, as if the Devil possessed her body, she pulled her head back to shoot daggers from her eyes to Dad’s. “What did you just say to me?”
Clearly noticing the live minefield he had just stupidly pranced into, Dad’s eyes widened with alarm. “Er… Uh…”
With one hand, due to still holding Ev, Mom shoved at his chest, forcing him to stumble back a couple of steps. Marching forward to follow him, she handed over Everleigh, then growled, “Everyone at the table. Now. It’s dinner time.”
As she stormed off to the kitchen, Dad and I raced to the table.
Before my butt even hit my seat, Dad circled himself. “Where’s Ev’s highchair?”
I cringed right before another glass shattered, then I whispered, “Everleigh has been out of her highchair,” I gestured to the toddler chair tied to a dining room chair, “for about two weeks now.”
Dad’s jaw fell. “You shittin’ me?”
Grimacing, I shook my head.
He whispered, “Fuck!” then went to the seat.
Being placed in her booster, Ev said, “Mama ma-ad, Daaaddy.”
“No, shit, Sherlock,” he teasingly replied as he searched the chair. “Now, how do I rope you in this contraption?”
Clueless a reaper-mom was soon coming for Dad’s head—or lacing his dinner with poison—Ev happily grabbed her seatbelt-buckle and showed Dad.
“Thank you, baby.” Click! “All done.” He shouted to the kitchen, “I was just kidding, babe. I knew Ev was out of her highchair.” He rushed to his own chair at the head of the table, which was closest to the front door. Possibly a good thing with how Mom stormed out of the kitchen, slopping casserole onto his plate. When some landed in his lap, he recoiled at the steam coming from the hot food, but only dared, “No problem. My lovely wife has a napkin already on the table because she is smart like that.” After collecting the ‘dropped’ noodles from his lap, he blew air on his singed legs.
Watching him, Everleigh blew air on her plate. “See, Da-addy?”
He peered up. “Atta girl, blowing on your plate, right where food belongs.”
Mom froze, full spoon lingering over my empty plate. “What was that, dear?”
He eyed the spoon that had the potential to morph into a food slinger. “Nothing, beautiful. Everything is perfect. As perfect as you—” Food splatted in my plate. “—are.”
Needless to say, dinner was somewhat tense. But at least Dad was there.
And he lived through it.
He was also there for Ev’s bath time, which she was over the moon about. They played with her toys. Dad looked out of place sitting on the toilet with bath bubbles on his tattooed arms, but Mom had happy tears so I figure he thought it was worth it.
Afterward, Dad even tucked me into bed. An oddity, but I was always so grateful for the quiet moments we shared. They would be the last calm ones for some time.
