Thank You

I hesitate at the door. I’m confident, I’m ready; I think, trying to convince myself. The restaurant although filled with fruit flies and dirty silverware is a step up from the usual scumbag places we met. The place is deserted so it’s easy to spot him. His skinny frame, untamed hair and red beard; he fit right in with the place. “My girl, how are you!” He said standing up at my arrival. He reeked of cigarettes and beer, always a walking mini bar. I hate when he says my girl as if were the typical father-daughter duo. I sat across from him quickly, I’m here solely for business.

“Where have you been? It’s been mont-..” He interrupts me.“WOAHHH, you just got here. cool your jets little lady, let’s order somethin. I’m starvin!”

My father has always been that way, for seeing me rarely and half the time being plastered, he knew me pretty well. Give me a little time and fill my empty stomach and my attitude adjusts.

Wait, no, I need to remain stubborn this time.

“Please don’t tell me what to do, I’m an adult now, like you, who deserves respect. Maybe more than you seeing I don’t smell like I live outside.” I say confidently looking down at the dirty menu. Cheap Chinese food, classic dad. My stomach rumbled, I guess anything sounds good.

“Kids these days, turn 18 and you think you're an adult, you need to remember you have 17 years of experience being a child,” He chuckles and closes his menu. He raises his hand up.

“Can I get a Bud miss, thanks.”

The little Chinese woman returned shortly with his bottle, asking if I’d like one in a rough accent. Although tempted, I look up at my father in disgust, and kindly refuse. That’s the thing about these dumpy places, they simply don’t care. She took our order and left.

“So tell me how school is dear, one more month and you're out of there. I remember the days...”

“Dad,”

This time it was I who would do the interrupting, I needed him to listen.

“I can’t continue to take care of Audrey and Beck. It’s unstable the way we’re living. My job can barely afford anything, and I am not a parent. They need more and I need to live my own life.”

"Meg, I know I haven't been dad of the year or anything...."

I laugh, "You can say that again.”

"But I'm here now and plan to be for the three of you, your old man had one of those epiphanies the other night, and well, long story short I'm ready to be the man I always wanted to be."

I burst out into laughter, “Ready?” I’m laughing so hard my eyes start to water. “So another drunken epiphany huh dad? You brought 3 kids into this world. Ready or not, we're here and we’ve been here fending for our damn selfs thanks to our pathetic drunk of a dad.” The words shot out of my mouth so quick from rage I instantly felt the guilt coming upon me. His face turns red and he looks down at his beer.

“Your right Meg. I take full responsibility for my actions, but I really am ready for us all to be a family and for me to be the best I can. Maybe we won’t be as perfect as the Brady Bunch, but….”

I zone out the rest of his rambling. My eyes begin to fill with real tears this time. What is wrong with me? I don’t want to be crying right now. I am just so tired of all of this bullshit. Why am I even here? Seriously, what did I do to deserve this life? It just isn’t fair. My mind won’t shut up and I know it’s time to leave. “Excuse me mamm, one more pl...hey where are you going?” I had already stood up and turned away from my dad in time for my first tear to fall down my cheek. I am now uncontrollably crying like a child and can’t make it stop. Keeping my head down I burst open the doors and begin to run as fast as I can away from this place. As I am running across the street tears now pouring down my face, I hear brakes screeching, a thud and a loud scream. I turn around to see my dad flat on the ground, blood riveting down his head.

I see the woman who screamed. She was holding her daughter in her arms, the girl looked 4, maybe 5. I knew it was her who screamed because her eyes truly looked like fear and love at the same time. I had always wished my parents looked at me that way. I can’t move. I can’t look down at my dad. My eyes are fixed on the mother coddling her daughter and I can’t even hear anything... did I get hit too?

I don’t know how much time had passed when I finally heard the loud voice, “MAM, MAM, your dad?! I call 911, they should be here soon.” I see the tiny waitress from earlier standing now in front of me. Trying to move my mouth I finally manage to get the words out, “Thank you.”

I look down at my dad really for the first time. His body motionless, his body contorted... My eyes narrowing trying to focus, I notice a little black book laying next to him. I'm in autopilot, I am walking towards it. My eyes so concentrated only on this target, staring at the notebook everything feels slow motion as I am trying to just grab it and avoid my fathers blood covered face, I reach down.

I got it. Luckily the curb was a few feet from it as I sank down onto it burying my head down in my lap and my head resting on the notebook, I saw the ambulance lights flashing even with my eyes closed.

It’s been 2 weeks since my dad died. His body had already been weak, and that car was the final ingredient added to his alcohol, drug consumed body that helped induce internal bleeding. With how weak I feel, I wonder if it’s close to the pain his body felt. In a way I hope his body felt as much pain. Laying in bed, frustrated from the sun waking me up I see the black book on my nightstand its pages opening it up almost half way. I pick up the leather bound book. It seemed so worn from seeing the sides of its pages curled up. I finally brought myself to pick it up. I lay back down and open the first page, I read my fathers handwriting:

I'm sorry

I continue to flip through the pages to find doodles of more quotes and cryptograms. “J162ndnoon10k.” followed by what I can only think is a financial balance account. “10k, 1250, 1100, 5k…”

I close the book and fall back asleep again. “MEGGYYY!” I jolted up to my sister screaming, “I’m hungry!!!” Audrey bangs at the door. Here we go again I think as I force myself to crawl out of bed. Audrey is 8 and when I was her age I was cooking my own damn breakfast. As I open up the door I see her bright blue eyes staring at me. Her smile wide showcasing her two missing front teeth, “Hi Megy Meg Meg!! Guess what? guess what I did?!” she shouts excitedly holding up a piece of paper filled with messy scribbles I can’t even depict.

“That’s SOOO cool.”

I say hoping that I conveyed some sort of enthusiasm to match hers. As I cook scrambled eggs for her in the too small of a kitchen she is bouncing all around. I want to scream for her to just get out. As I am about to shout to do just that, I look at her. Happiness just radiating back at me. Innocence. She hasn’t even said one word about dad, but I guess you have to know someone in order to miss someone. Ignorance really is bliss, but most importantly I think how grateful I am she never experienced the feeling of hatred. I wish I felt as happy as her.

She finished up eating and I laid back down. I feel a lump under my back and grab from underneath me the little black book. I open it back up and read,

Dear Meg, Audrey, Beck,

I’ve never been perfect, great, good…. At talking…. I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you how much….

That was all it said besides written at the bottom of the page:

Meg50 Aud50 Beck50

Anger filled me as I tossed the book as hard as I could across the room. I started to cry for the first time since that day. He couldn’t even finish more than a sentence without giving up. My entire life that's all I ever got. A couple bs sentences…. And a world full of responsibilities I didn’t sign up for. I can’t believe he’s gone now. I jumped up and screamed so loud I forgot what my own voice sounded like. I look down at the book and notice a piece of paper poking out of the corner. I pick it up and pull out a tiny envelope tucked in the binding of the back of the book. I pull out a folded piece of paper and open it up.

Pay to the order of Megan Gibson __________ $20,000 Date: 02/07/18

The date was written the last day I saw him.

The check finally went through. The girls had got done eating and I laid down. Taking a sip of Bud, I opened up the little black book.

Dear Dad,

I am sorry.

I am sorry you lost your life.... chasing after me. I am sorry I didn't get to know you, and that I didn't want to. You were right when you said I forgot that 17 years of my life I've been a child. I still am, but thank you for making me who I am today. Thank you for who you are ...were...... and for this little black book. I am about to write down my goals, because I realized I never really got to think about myself blinded by so much anger. I plan to put $5k in a CD for the girls to hopefully have the 50k I think you were talking about. The rest, I guess I have to really think about.... but for once I am excited to just jot down ideas. I love you Dad.

Meg