Annie
Four thousand questions and three cups of coffee later, Sergeant Harry leaves me alone in the small interview room at the police station with nothing to stare at but the walls. Downing the final dregs of caffeine from my cup, I drop it into the bin beside the table and wait.
Trying to convince strangers that a former Jehovah’s Witness is safe in the arms of the town’s delinquent was no easy feat. Mum tried to convince them that I’m being manipulated. Leaving the religion is one thing. Choosing to remain outside is unfathomable in her mind and therefore must be Hunter’s fault. The fact that I’m sitting here at the police station demonstrates the extent of her grief.
The door opens, and Dad steps inside. Aside from a few extra grey hairs and a slight shift in his hairline, he looks the same as the last time I saw him and appears as awkward as I feel. I don’t think either of us imagined our reunion taking place here.
‘You okay?’ he asks, eyes moving over me.
It’s funny how triggering that question can be from someone you’ve missed. Tears that weren’t there a few seconds ago now threaten to spill over. I blink them back. ‘Great.’
Great is probably a bit much.
He exhales slowly and peers through the open blinds to the policemen at the desk. ‘I spoke to your mum. She’s agreed to drop the charges.’
I laugh, relieving some of the tension. ‘I don’t even know how to respond to that.’
He nods like he understands.
‘You got here fast,’ I say.
‘I promised myself when I moved out that I wouldn’t miss any of your big life events. First arrest seemed worthy of a mad dash across the state.’
I can’t help but smile. He reminds me so much of Bridget when he says things like that. ‘Father of the year.’
Harry returns to the room. ‘You’re good to go.’
Dad thanks him. I’m not sure what for. The coffee? Or not cuffing me, perhaps.
‘Ready to get out of here?’ Dad asks.
‘Yeah, I’m ready.’
We exit the police station and stand awkwardly in the middle of the street, looking everywhere but at each other. It’s nearing five in the afternoon.
‘You didn’t tell me you’d left the organisation,’ he says.
I’m not entirely sure why. Maybe I was afraid he would insist I come stay with him. Or maybe I was afraid he wouldn’t. ‘I left a few months back.’
‘Months?’ He drops his gaze. ‘Does that mean I should wish you a happy birthday now?’
‘Only if you want to make things more awkward.’
He snorts.
He was never a bad dad. He was just so mentally far away—then physically. I know it stemmed from how deeply unhappy he was in that life and marriage. And he wasn’t allowed to leave either, so all his energy went into surviving, which meant he had nothing left for us girls. ‘How about a birthday beer instead?’
He lifts his gaze. ‘At the pub?’
I look past him to the pub on the corner. ‘Or we could get takeaways and drink them in the park like rebellious teenagers. But I don’t really feel like getting in trouble with the police today. Again.’
His mouth tugs up. ‘I can’t believe you’re twenty.’
He says it with such affection that I’m momentarily lost for words.
‘Come on.’ He gestures for me to start walking. ‘My shout.’
We walk side by side, with at least three feet between us. There are a few curious looks in our direction when we step inside, so we head to the booth at the far end. Dad goes to the bar and returns with two pots. We stare at our beers while we figure out what to say.