He used to mean something to me but its been four years, six months and three days since I last saw him and i swear i could care less. The tattered old newspaper that lies open in front of me has been folded and unfolded too many times to count. I couldn’t begin to tell you how many times i’ve traced my finger across his name or how many times I’ve stared into those grey green eyes. I swear though I only carry it with me just to remind myself that I’m over him. I was over him the day I walked out on him four years, six months and three days ago.
Picking up the paper my eyes dart across the article never stopping to read the words I memorized years ago, the words I never needed to read to know that Dillon Hall local fisherman and Alaskan hero was a drug addict. No, I’d spent two years living the nightmare, through the lies and then like the changing tide I’d left.
The man beside Dillon, the one with his arm wrapped around his shoulder is the reason I’m going home. He’s the reason I’m on a red eye in the middle of the night with red eyes, he’s my father and I’m going home to bury him. My mom always joked that my dad would die one of two ways; at sea or in his captains chair from too many years of poor diet and too many missed medical check ups.
My mom called this morning to let me know the conversation going like this “Well honey your daddy passed away this morning” before she added “The doctors think it was a heart attack, I always said he was going to die of a heart attack if he didn’t get his butt out of that damn chair”
My mother doesn’t believe in sugar coating things and shes as stubborn as an ox. When she says to do something you do it and you don’t ask questions which is why I’m on this damn plane.
Beside me my four year-old son with his green eyes and dark hair sighs scrunching up his nose “Momma, whats wrong?” he asks. His voice is full of concern uncommon in a kid his age but Preston isn’t like most kids.
Putting my game face on, I smile and ruffle my fingers through his hair “Nothing sweetie I’m just tired” I lie. The truth is nothing is right. I’m going home and i feel like I’m about to walk into a lions den. I’ve spent the past four years protecting him and now that blanket I wrapped us so tightly up in is about to come off.
As the plane begins to descend I think back to the last thing my father said to me. “You can only keep a secret for so long Riley before it comes back to bite you in the ass” That was two years ago. As the mountains come up to greet us, the planes landing gear creaking out over a boat filled harbor my dads words stick in my head like glue to a piece of paper and for the first time I really hear them because below me the wheels hitting the pavement is my past coming back to bite me in the ass.
Just The Two Of Us 