“Sorry, Dad, I was busy. I didn’t hear my cell ring.”
I hear the long release of breath, and I hate that I had him worried. “Good. Are you still on for dinner?”
I curl up more on my couch and pull the blanket down on top of me. “Any chance of us getting a takeout?”
“Absolutely,” he responds instantly, and I giggle. “Pizza?”
I laugh. “You read my mind,” I tell him, glad I don’t have to get dressed up and go out and face the world. All I want to do is shower, get into my ratty sweats, and chill for the night. “Dad,I’m not sure what your plans are, but I want you to know that there’s a room here for you whenever you want.” I need him to know that I want him in my life. I want him to know that he’s not just someone I expect to help out when times are rough. I want him around always. I missed out on spending time with him when I was younger, but since I moved to the States, I’ve learned a lot about him. Some things I love, others I don’t, but it’s him, and I love him because he’s my dad. I just haven’t been able to show how much he means to me.
“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll order the pizzas, get some beers, then I’ll swing by. Is there anything you want?”
“Ice-cream,” I reply, knowing I’ll probably eat the entire pint myself.
He chuckles. “Should have known. I won’t be long. I’ll see you soon.”
Once the call ends, I drag myself upstairs to the shower. There’s nothing better than sleeping on fresh sheets when you’re all clean and snug.
“Gab?” I hear my dad call out almost thirty minutes later.
“I’m upstairs, Dad. I’ll be down in a second,” I yell back. I pull on my sweatpants and hoodie and make my way toward the smell of food. My stomach rumbles as I enter the kitchen. “Hey, Dad,” I say as I walk up to him. “You okay?”
He presses a kiss against my head. “I’m good. You’ve done a great job, Gab, the place looks amazing.”
I smile at his praise. “Thanks. I’m about ready for bed,” I laugh. “But first, food.”
He shakes his head. “A child after my own heart.”
I roll my eyes and reach for the boxes of pizzas. He’s in great shape for a man in his late fifties, but he sure as hell eats a lot. I've never seen anyone eat or drink as much as my dad. He’s like a human garbage disposal.
We sit down and Dad puts a movie on. It’s the latest action blockbuster. I sit back all snug in my blanket and sweats as I set about eating my pizza.
An hour later, we’re both finished eating, and my dad’s cell rings. I watch as he glances down at the screen and scowls. He gets to his feet and walks out of the room. He doesn’t even hit pause on the movie, and we’re getting to the good bit.
I groan as I reach for the TV remote. Ugh, I’ve eaten so much that I’m bloated, but damn, it was the best pizza I’ve ever had. I now have a new place to eat at, and I couldn’t be more excited.
“Sweetheart,” my dad says as he walks back into the room.
“Yeah?” I say as I look up at him. I swallow hard as I see the sorrow in his eyes. I know that look. I’ve seen it before. It’s the look everyone gave me when my best friend, Mayer, died. It’s one I wished I’d never have to see again. “Dad?” I whisper, my heart racing.
He crouches down in front of me and takes my hands into his. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he begins, and a lump forms in my throat.No.“Your mom—”
“No,” I snarl. No, this can’t be happening.
“I’m so sorry, Gabby, but she was in a car accident. She didn’t make it.”
His words hit me, and I hear a loud shriek rent the air. I realize it’s me. I’m screaming and crying. The pain I feel is like no other. I’m lost, utterly lost, like I’m out at sea floating.
My dad holds me, whispering reassurances that I’ll be okay, that no matter what he’ll be here with me. My sobs wrack through my body, my heart explodes with pain. I’m broken, my heart is shattered.
“Why her?” I ask, needing to know why she’s gone.
He gently brushes my hair with his hand. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”
“But I never got to tell her,” I wail. “She never found out she was going to be a grandma.”
“She’ll watch over you both, Gabby. She’ll get to watch you both grow. She’ll be so proud of you, just as I am.”
His words are comforting but painful. The thought of her not being with me throughout this experience is heart-wrenching. It never crossed my mind that I’d have to live without her, that my child would be without her.