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I press the pillow to my face and scream. Why doesn’t anyone understand what I need? Why can’t anyone fix this?
Joke’s on you, Kira. You’re the only one who understands what you need. And the only one who can fix this.
But what if none of this can be fixed? What if I’m doomed to be a mess for life?
I wakeup the next morning to a quiet rapping at the door. “Kira, honey…it’s Dad.”
I lift my head and wipe the crust from my eyes, a combination of sleep and tears that seemed to come on and off all night. “Come in.”
Dad pokes his head in. His hair is all bedhead and his eyes are wide. “Hey, sport.”
“Since when did you call me sport?” I ask. Poor guy put up with me yesterday being practically mute. He deserves a little smile.
“Since I’m asking you to play ball with me today.”
I roll my eyes. Classic Kent Solace dad joketrap.
“I have your favorite.” He holds up another tray of food. “Maybe this will go over better than…”
We both look at the tray of untouched food on the desk. I’m sure it’s all half-hardened glop by now. “I don’t know, Daddy. I’m still not hungry.”
“It’s waffles, though,” he says, voice upgliding with desperation. “Here. Breakfast in bed for my little girl.”
I force a smile as he sets the tray over my legs. Homemade Belgian waffles in the shape of Mickey Mouse with a whipped cream smile and chocolate chips for eyes. “Man, these do look good.” Although the thought of swallowing something makes me scared I might throw up. And then everyone will know.
Harley told me how Dad sniffed out her pregnancy. I refuse to be his next victim.
“I knew you couldn’t resist a Mickey waffle.” Dad pulls out the chair from my desk and stares at me.
“Um…”
“Eat, eat! Don’t mind me.”
I don’t have the heart to tell him it’s impossible not to mind him when he’s staring right at me like he might eat me. “Daddy, look –“
“I’m just here. If you want to talk. About anything. About whatever. Seriously. I know I’m your dad, but I’m a girl dad. You know, none of that girl stuff freaks me out.”
I grimace. “Please don’t call it girl stuff.”
“Er. Sorry, just trying to be relatable. Or… You know.”
“I’m going to make this easy for you. I’m not talking. I have nothing to say. What’s going on with me is for me alone. And I’d appreciate it if you’d keep the girls out of it. And if you’d back off too,” I say as kindly as I can.
Dad’s whole body shifts, muscles tightening, eyes widening. There was no way for me to say that without totally ripping out his insides. But sadly, it’s what had to be done.
“Okay, sport, okay. I gotcha.” He waits a second longer as if maybe I’ll change my mind.
I don’t.
“Welp. You eat. I’ll be around if you need anything,” he says and pushes himself up from the chair before shuffling out the door. “Anything. Seriously.”
I believe every word. I know my dad or sisters would do anything for me.
Right now, though, the best thing they can do for me is pretend like I don’t exist.
That’s what I’m trying to do, anyway.
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