Those are things that will keep me here forever. And I just have to let go.
I head into the family room, inhaling the smell of old, expensive parchment for the last time. “Here are your things,” he says, pointing to my bag on the table. A book is sitting on top.
“Marc,” I whisper. It’s that copy of Pride and Prejudice, First Edition.
“I don’t need it,” he says. “I thought you could have it. You’d enjoy it more than me.”
Feeling melancholia tug on my heartstrings, my eyes start to water. I didn’t know I’d miss this place so much. Now that I’m here, I don’t really want to leave.
I come up to the book, slowly dragging my fingers over the binding. “Marc, you know I can’t take this.”
“You’re taking it,” he says. “If you want, you can read it to the class.”
I laugh, tears falling down my face. Even though I’m facing the other way, I think he knows I’m crying. “I’m not sure second graders will enjoy it,” I say.
“Well, in any case, it’s yours.”
I look up from the book. Amanda is in the hall with Sammy. My friend is looking at me with empathy in her eyes. At the same time, she looks very uncomfortable. I wish she didn’t see me like this.
I wave to her. She gives a wave back.
“Mr. Wylan, I’m going to go now,” she says.
Marc gives her a pretty hefty wad of cash before seeing her to the door. When she’s gone, it’s just us three, the family that couldn’t be.
“Well, I got all my things,” I say.
Marc sucks in his lips, seemingly occupied on his thoughts. “You sure the station wagon will start?”
It’s another joke, but it doesn’t hit right. And it just makes me realize that if I don’t leave now, I never will. “Only one way to find out.”
Sammy marches into the room. “Hearie! Hearie!”
Marc turns, chest rising. For the first time since we the day we met, I see tears in his eyes. He’s trying harder than ever before to hold them back. I can see the physical pain, the emotional wrought that this has taken on him, and I recognize it as my own because I’m right there with him. This is shit. To protect my heart, I had to be the one to call it off, but nobody really wins.
We all just lose.
Tears spill down his cheeks, resting in his stubble. He looks years older, as if one small fiasco can wreck someone beyond repair. “Sammy, not now,” Marc says.
Sammy won’t stop. She’s in one of her moods again. Strutting around the room like a queen, she yells, “Hearie! Hearie!”
Marc grabs her. She kicks him once in the chest and another time in the balls. Even in his down moments, he’s gentle with her. My dad would’ve spanked me to high hell and back.
He falls to the floor with a soft thud. “Sammy, stop.”
Does she stop? No. Instead, she picks up the pace. She runs across the room, flinging her dress above her head, showing her butt to everyone in the household. Chaos takes over, and soon, she’s running over the sofa, knocking over a lamp in the process.
Up against the calamity of the situation, I just snap.
I walk right over to her, take her hand, so she can’t run away. She can kick me in the balls if she wants. I’m not budging. “Enough is enough, young ma’am.”
“No,” Sammy squeals, pulling.
I point to Marc. He’s a shell of a man, breathing on the rug. “You need to apologize to your dad right now.”
She bucks. She kicks. She fights me. “No, no, no.”
However, eventually, she stops. And that’s when the hurt forms in her eyes. “Daddy...”
She breaks down, scream piercing my ears. It’s hard to hear what she’s saying over her breathing.
Finally able to stand, Marc cautiously approaches his daughter. “Sammy, what has gotten into you?”
Marc takes her in his arms, hugging her with so much love it breaks my heart. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Remember what I told you? It’s always going to be okay. I’m here with you forever.”
It’s not my place to see this. I feel like I should go. This is too tender of a moment.
She bends forward, over his arms. She reaches for me. “I don’t want her to leave.”
“You have to let her go, Sammy,” he says.
“I don’t want to. I love her,” she says.
And that’s when I realize that this is not even about me. She’s thinking about her mother and realizing that when I leave, she’ll be back to where she was. Just her and Marc. At the time, she seemed pretty enthused about that dynamic. She got a taste of the other side, that place with greener pastures. I don’t blame her for acting out. I don’t blame her for anything, but I do have to go.
“I’m sorry, Marc,” I whisper.
He nods toward the door, still hugging Sammy. “It’s okay. Text me if you get home and realize you left something else.”
Something like my heart? I’ll do that.
Rowdy sits at my feet, tail wagging with excitement. I wish I could return the sentiment.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Goodbye, Marc.”
“Goodbye, Ali.”
Outside, I try my station wagon. Ironically, it starts without any problems.
I take the long way home, avoiding the freeway as much as possible. The weather is beautiful today, accentuating the green forest mountains and dark blue bay. I’m not even mad to hit ten minutes of traffic. Then again, I’m not feeling much of anything except the emotional waves that roll in with the tide.
I flip on the radio to offset my feelings. First, I land on a talk radio show. Some old man is screeching like a crow about the senate. Something crappy happened, I guess. Something always happens, but I can’t focus. I turn to the next station instead. It’s classic nineties. Alannis Morissette is playing, my mom’s most favorite singer-songwriter in the world.
The angst used to make me giggle as a kid, but as she belts
