In The Yard With The Marigolds

A father and daughter walked around the house, admiring the marigolds around it. The daughter always liked marigolds. Their colors reminded her of campfires. She'd plant them in random spots in her vegetable garden to keep animals away.

The flowers were her father's favorite. Since she started planting them at her house, he'd come over more often to look at them. She didn't mind her father coming over. It's the most time they spent together since she was a teen.

"Want a beer?" she asked her dad. He moved to a lawn chair and sat down, not looking much different than in her childhood. He was grayer, and the scars on his face faded to a point she didn't notice them anymore.

"Nah, I gotta drive," he replied. "Drunk driving laws are stronger than when you were a kid."

"Fair enough," she said, walking into her kitchen. She pulls out two cans of Diet Coke and walks outside. She hands one of the cans to her dad then brings a chair closer to him.

"Well, pizza'll be here in a few," she said. He gave her a thumbs up. In that brief moment, she could see why so many people told her the two of them looked like twins. They narrowed their dark eyes and pursed their lips in the same way. She hoped they didn't have the same walk, but at this point, it wouldn't surprise her either.

"How're you holding up?" her dad asked her.

"You know, it's not as bad as I thought," she answered. "It's kind of a relief, really. I know, I shouldn't say that, but it's how I feel." Her father shrugged and sipped his Diet Coke.

"Did you ever tell Jerome?" her father asked.

"No," she answered. "by the time he left, I'd lost it. I was going to tell him when he got back from Vegas. But now I'm not sure if there's anything to tell him."

"It's up to you," he said. The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes. They listened to the birds chirping around them. It's how the two of them were around each other. Neither would say much, but they didn't mind one another's company. The daughter always found it nice that she didn't have to work to engage someone in conversation. Her father didn't mind the silence either.

"Dad, I'm sorry," she said after a beat.

"For what?" he asked, confused.

"For not being around so much when I was a kid," she answered.

"I figured that was your mother's doing," he shrugged again.

"It wasn't, though," she confessed. "I stayed away for so long because I couldn't stand being there when Angie was there. Her being my sister doesn't dismiss the bullying."

Her father nodded and closed his eyes. She watched her father. If a stranger watched them, they wouldn't think her father reacted. But the daughter noticed slower movements. He took a deep breath and took a long sip of his Diet Coke.

"All these years, and I thought your mother put something in your head to make you not want to come," he said slowly. "I knew Angie was bad, but I never thought she was so bad that you wouldn't want to see me anymore."

"Staying with Mom over the weekend was the only time I got a break from it," his daughter said. "I feel bad now. I should've said something sooner."

"I should've been more strict with her," her dad said sadly.

"Well, I'm not too far away now," she said. "So we can see each other as much as we want."

At that moment, the pizza came. The daughter met the delivery guy and paid. She brought the boxes to her house.

"Pizza?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. The two of them walked into the house. They spent the afternoon enjoying one of the best pizzas they had in a long time.