iii. sunday
part three of three of "the last weekend"
The weight crushing her shoulders seemed to decrease significantly as they passed the deep emerald Florida State Line sign. The big, ivory letters and dull metal symbolized not only the distance she felt from the physical location, but also the place in her mind that it made her go to. He didn’t ask her to be His navigator for the trip back, and she didn’t volunteer her services.
“You’re just like your mama, you know that?”
It was meant to be an insult. It always was. The comparison wasn’t unfamiliar to her. He always said it to her when she got on His nerves, or if He thought her personality wasn’t agreeable to His current goals. She was too quiet, but also too assertive, and her stubbornness was impossible to deal with. This familiar sentence never bothered her the way that He wanted it to. If she could only be half the person her mama was, she’d be grateful for it. When no reply came out of her, He huffed and puffed, turning the volume up on the radio. She hid her smug smile behind her latest novel as they sped down Interstate 95.
Shannon called them when they stopped to get something to eat. He let her order what she wanted this time–as if He couldn’t care less about what she did anymore. He put on His act for Shannon though, and she remembered wondering if her father’s girlfriend knew when He was doing it like Girl did. She didn’t think so, but only because Shannon seemed like the type of person to believe everything you told her. Not that she was dumb or anything, but some people are just lucky enough to have that mindset. The one that assumed that people were fundamentally good, always doing things from sincere motives and for the betterment of everyone around them. She remembers being jealous of people like that.
“Hey! How was the game?”
He put on His best voice, twisted with sickeningly sweet faux enthusiasm. She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes as she listened to the woman prattle on on speakerphone. She greeted her on the phone, exchanging niceties and playing the part of the good little girl that she always did so well. Shannon yapped on and on about how great Hawaii was, how fantastic her son and his new wife were doing, and how she couldn’t wait to take them with her next time.
“Maybe we can go for Christmas or New Year’s!”
Girl and He looked at each other for just a split second. Any shorter and either of them would’ve missed it. A million words contained within a single look.
“Yeah, maybe.”
One of them said it, but she couldn’t remember who. She thought about how that was the last time she felt so connected to Him. As if they had finally gotten on one accord; that they agreed this was the end of something. She thought it was something they both realized in that same moment, but as she looked back on it years later she came to a different conclusion. Like maybe it was the moment that He had finally let her in on the bit.
…
She noticed something was different after they spoke to Shannon. Her mention of the future rattled Him for some reason, and she couldn’t understand why. When He passed His exit towards the usual meeting place, He gave her a quick look before returning His eyes back to the road.
“I’m taking you back to your mama’s. That okay with you?”
She couldn’t make herself do anything but nod. Her grandmama mentioned this to her on Friday, but she still held out a foolish hope that her personal pit of inferno would end sooner than she expected. It never did. He dropped the camper off at the storage unit He and Shannon shared, and strode over to His white, two-seater convertible with her bags in His hands. She almost had to skip to keep up with His pace, but climbed into the passenger seat with ease. He turned towards her with a smile that she can only remember as vaguely despondent.
“Pretty cool, huh? Thought I’d dust her off today.”
He pressed a glossy, black button to put the top down and got back on the highway. As He bobbed and weaved through the lanes, the sound of His revved engine intertwined with the shrieking glee of her laughter, she felt like maybe they could be like every other father and daughter. He had His moments, sure, but so did everyone. She’d give Him another chance, and He’d take it gratefully. This would be it. The thing that would finally change things for the better. This was her favorite delusion; that she had finally gained the power to make Him love her.
The perennial street signs cascaded through her vision as he whipped into the neighborhood. Everything was as exactly as she had left it–cozy, well-worn, and belonging to her and her alone. It was an instant signal sent to her brain that she seemed to be waiting eons for: You’re okay. You did it. He slowly pulled His car up next to the mailbox, He was never closer than three inches to the driveway. He looped her backpack through her shoulders and rolled her suitcase to the edge of the pavement.
“Okay. You got everything?”
She nodded. He took a deep breath before He began; she watched the tension tighten around His growing beer belly, then loosen when He let it go. She felt the shadow of the shoe darken over her head before it dropped completely.
“Look. If you wanna see me, you call me, okay?”
She almost, almost laughed. But she didn’t. She understood the implication within His words. They both knew that she wouldn’t call Him, and that He wouldn’t either. How funny it was that the person who showed her what it meant to be a prisoner in her own body should give her her first memory of choice. By putting the decision in her hands, He got away scot free. No one to take responsibility for the lack of their relationship except for her. She’s the one who wouldn’t call, not the other way around.
It was something that she’d express anger over years later. To leave that decision in the hands of a person who hadn’t passed elementary school yet was a gross manipulation of His power over her. However, in that moment, she felt as if He’d just given her the key to the kingdom. She nodded, and turned towards the open garage door, almost bursting at the seams over her good news. The pale silver of her mama’s truck glistened in the sunlight, and her body eased at the knowledge of knowing that her favorite person was near. A breath that she’d never have to hold.
She got to the back door, her fingers hovered over the button to close the garage. When she turned to get one more glance of Him, her father, she’d found nothing. He was already gone, and in more ways than one. Her mama greeted her at the door, the familiar smile mirrored hers as they wrapped their arms around each other. She pulled back, still beaming at her.
“Guess what?”