for such a preppy look.
He weakly
smiles as he rubs his hands through it, as though he can’t believe it himself.
I stare at his red-rimmed eyes with concern and wait for him to find his voice.
I guess he is unable to speak, because he swoops me up in another hug. He’s
still trembling, and I begin to hurt for the pain he is going through. I
suddenly feel selfish for taking so long in getting here to him. Not once in
the past two days have I considered how he feels for losing his dad. A dad that
he knew well compared to my own relationship. And he has been here going
through it all alone.
“I’m
sorry,” I whisper against his shoulder. He nods his head in agreement, but
still says nothing. “John Paul?”
“ Your mother made me cut it,” he finally
chokes out, making us both laugh at his way of forming the sentence. Neither
one of us much claimed her through the years.
“Great day.
I’ve really missed you,” I confess honestly. “How’d you know where I was?”
“I watched
your butt sneak by the house earlier. Only two possibilities as to where I’d
find you. Here or at Miss May’s.”
We walk
over to the market’s porch and have a seat. We rock for a bit before I ask,
“How is she?”
“Madder
than a wet setting hen at you.”
“What?
Why?”
“You
disappeared on us over five years ago, Savannah. Isn’t that enough?” There’s a
pucker of hurt between his blond eyebrows and I feel guilty for being the
cause.
“I
suppose,” I admit.
We sit
staring over the empty parking lot for a little longer, catching up. I know I’m
just putting off the inevitable, so I finally agree to follow John Paul back to
the house.
I catch
myself holding my breath as we walk through the front door. It took nearly an
hour to make it through the mourners on just the porch. Using my bag as a
protective shield to keep the condoling guests at arm length, I’ve been able to
control my anxiety of their nearness. It’s all so overwhelming. I step over the
threshold and the first thing I notice is that the interior has been updated
with paint and the wood floors have a freshly polished gleam. My eyes take all
this in before I spot my mother in the den. She is surrounded by a group of
ladies doting over her. As soon as her eyes make contact with my own, a steady
stream of tears rushes down her face. She is heartbroken, and all at once, I’m
heartbroken for her. I want to run over and throw my arms around her and make
our relationship right and be the daughter she needs me to be.
The moment
is lost with the first slash of her sharp tongue. Who was I kidding? Some
things never, and I mean NEVER change.
“What took
you so long? I’ve needed you here!” Jean snaps out so bitterly that I can
almost taste bile. A room full of disappointing eyes finds me embarrassed.
“I… I um,
got here as fast as I could. Sorry,” I mumble while I study my shoes.
“Humph.”
My defenses
kick in, forcing my head back up, and I smart off in true Savannah fashion.
“Well, where’s your famous Julia Rose? Why isn’t she here to hold your hand?”
Jean turns
a violent shade of red. Good. I want her embarrassed too. Might as well not
have to be alone in this, right? I feel the warmth of embarrassment not only in
my cheeks but all over.
“You know
as well as I do, her busy career is not easy to get away from. Maybe you don’t
understand since you do nothing for a living.” She crosses her arms as we
square off. I stand there clutching my overnight bag as though it’s my security
blanket. “She’s trying her best to get here. You have no excuse.”
I don’t
waste anyone’s time with a reply. I turn and walk through the crowd and head
upstairs to my abandoned room. As I open the door and glance around at a room
that looks exactly as I had left it, I am overwhelmed and then pushed to my
knees with times past.
Still
clinging onto my bag for dear life, I feel the tingling begin in my fingertips
and then sneak up my arms
He weakly
smiles as he rubs his hands through it, as though he can’t believe it himself.
I stare at his red-rimmed eyes with concern and wait for him to find his voice.
I guess he is unable to speak, because he swoops me up in another hug. He’s
still trembling, and I begin to hurt for the pain he is going through. I
suddenly feel selfish for taking so long in getting here to him. Not once in
the past two days have I considered how he feels for losing his dad. A dad that
he knew well compared to my own relationship. And he has been here going
through it all alone.
“I’m
sorry,” I whisper against his shoulder. He nods his head in agreement, but
still says nothing. “John Paul?”
“ Your mother made me cut it,” he finally
chokes out, making us both laugh at his way of forming the sentence. Neither
one of us much claimed her through the years.
“Great day.
I’ve really missed you,” I confess honestly. “How’d you know where I was?”
“I watched
your butt sneak by the house earlier. Only two possibilities as to where I’d
find you. Here or at Miss May’s.”
We walk
over to the market’s porch and have a seat. We rock for a bit before I ask,
“How is she?”
“Madder
than a wet setting hen at you.”
“What?
Why?”
“You
disappeared on us over five years ago, Savannah. Isn’t that enough?” There’s a
pucker of hurt between his blond eyebrows and I feel guilty for being the
cause.
“I
suppose,” I admit.
We sit
staring over the empty parking lot for a little longer, catching up. I know I’m
just putting off the inevitable, so I finally agree to follow John Paul back to
the house.
I catch
myself holding my breath as we walk through the front door. It took nearly an
hour to make it through the mourners on just the porch. Using my bag as a
protective shield to keep the condoling guests at arm length, I’ve been able to
control my anxiety of their nearness. It’s all so overwhelming. I step over the
threshold and the first thing I notice is that the interior has been updated
with paint and the wood floors have a freshly polished gleam. My eyes take all
this in before I spot my mother in the den. She is surrounded by a group of
ladies doting over her. As soon as her eyes make contact with my own, a steady
stream of tears rushes down her face. She is heartbroken, and all at once, I’m
heartbroken for her. I want to run over and throw my arms around her and make
our relationship right and be the daughter she needs me to be.
The moment
is lost with the first slash of her sharp tongue. Who was I kidding? Some
things never, and I mean NEVER change.
“What took
you so long? I’ve needed you here!” Jean snaps out so bitterly that I can
almost taste bile. A room full of disappointing eyes finds me embarrassed.
“I… I um,
got here as fast as I could. Sorry,” I mumble while I study my shoes.
“Humph.”
My defenses
kick in, forcing my head back up, and I smart off in true Savannah fashion.
“Well, where’s your famous Julia Rose? Why isn’t she here to hold your hand?”
Jean turns
a violent shade of red. Good. I want her embarrassed too. Might as well not
have to be alone in this, right? I feel the warmth of embarrassment not only in
my cheeks but all over.
“You know
as well as I do, her busy career is not easy to get away from. Maybe you don’t
understand since you do nothing for a living.” She crosses her arms as we
square off. I stand there clutching my overnight bag as though it’s my security
blanket. “She’s trying her best to get here. You have no excuse.”
I don’t
waste anyone’s time with a reply. I turn and walk through the crowd and head
upstairs to my abandoned room. As I open the door and glance around at a room
that looks exactly as I had left it, I am overwhelmed and then pushed to my
knees with times past.
Still
clinging onto my bag for dear life, I feel the tingling begin in my fingertips
and then sneak up my arms
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