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The Neshaminy Mall food court bustled with senior citizens. New moms showed off their fancy strollers and little ones, while teens loitered. No one fit the description of a man old enough to be her father.
That familiar feeling of looking for something that wasn’t there filled her chest and she fought off the memories, but they always came anyway. Her gaze dropped to the uneaten pizza she’d ordered so as not to appear a purposeless fool waiting alone in the food court, and her mind returned to her old home.
She could see herself paying the deliveryman, feel the heat from the pizza box in her hands and smell the Italian seasonings mixing with the steam. Her mom’s laughter echoed like a forgotten secret as they made a joke about being hungry enough to eat two pies.
Annalise blinked, her eyes suddenly blurred with unshed tears and the sounds of the food court returned. That had been the last time she remembered her mom being well. Shortly after that she’d been diagnosed with advanced stage lymphoma, and then life had stopped being carefree and started ticking like a time bomb.
Annalise was still reeling from the blast. Still feeling like parts of her world had been blown to pieces. And when the dust settled, she’d somehow become an adult when, in reality, she was only a child.
It was childish of her to sit here now, waiting for a man who wanted no part of her life to make yet another excuse for standing her up. She had to stop doing this to herself. He was never going to fill the void her mother left. He hadn’t wanted her then and he didn’t want her now.
Letting out a frustrated breath, she tossed the stupid Hallmark card on the table and stood, snatching her book bag off the empty chair. He wasn’t coming.
What an absolute, pathetic waste of fucking time. She was an idiot for believing he might show up. A few Facebook messages and an unanswered—but viewed—invitation to finally meet did not equal an interested parent.
The most embarrassing part was that she announced to her co-workers that she’d be meeting her dad today, like some moon eyed kid who was too naïve to know when she wasn’t wanted. Maybe they wouldn’t ask. Maybe she should just show up for her usual shift. Then they’d know nothing monumental had held her up, and not feel the need to ask about why she was not only on time but also early for work when she already asked them to cover her shift. Pathetic.
Well, she needed to study anyway. If her absentee father had taught her anything, it was to only depend on herself. And right now her future was hanging by a thread if she didn’t buckle down and memorize the last few chapter notes of her unit.
On the drive to her apartment she fought back tears. No matter how old she got, her dad would always be her Achilles heel. The mere idea of the first man to reject her left a primal wound she’d bear for life. Even now, her fear of his rejection could be paralyzing. Pretty impressive impact for a guy she’d never met.
She needed to stop doing this to herself. Since her mom passed away, the yearning to belong to someone had taken a front seat in her thoughts. Her father was the least likely solution to her problems and could never replace her mother. But it seemed utterly wrong to be twenty-three and not have any living family left.
It sucked that no matter how much she told herself that blood was thicker than water, that was just some cliché bullshit. She still longed to know the dickhead who stood her up time and time again.
Her hands slapped the steering wheel as she made the turn into her apartment complex. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
She didn’t need someone who didn’t want her. She was an adult. It wasn’t like she was looking for guardianship. Just a fucking connection. If that was too intense for him maybe she was better off alone. No maybe. Definitely.
“Forget him.”
As she opened the door to her apartment, boxes from her old home greeted her with things she no longer needed but couldn’t bear to let go. She accepted this might be some crucial step in her therapy—therapy she couldn’t afford, of course. But hey, she watched daytime talk shows. Grief was a process and she was only in the early stages.
Those boxes served as a constant reminder that this was only a pit stop. If she’d spent time unpacking them, it would imply she’d been content to stay, which she wasn’t. All those little mementos of her childhood deserved a better home, a permanent place to call her own. And she deserved that, too. Once she finished school, got her degree, found a better job, she’d put down roots in a nicer area and...
She cracked open a beer. And what?
While she hated wasting her tears on a man who never showed any interest in her, she also hated the all-consuming loneliness that had been eating at her lately. Truth was, she had no plans and the wind in her sails faded more and more each day. What if she sputtered out after graduation and got stuck here? No compass, no paddle, just stuck. It was a good possibility, despite her absolute fear of such an outcome.
Her phone pinged. Kyle’s text, asking if her father showed flashed on the screen. She tossed the phone on the counter and chugged the beer.
It was sweet that Kyle recognized what a big deal this was for her, but also humiliating to have others, once again, witness her father’s disinterest. Kyle had been around for the last attempted meet and greet. And that one ended with a bucket of tears and tequila—and one regrettable moment of weakness where she asked him to spend the night.
Luckily, neither of them had been sober enough to remember what happened, but that launched them into this strange friendzone where she suspected he wanted a repeat and she wanted oblivion. Kyle was her friend and one of the only constants in her life since her mom died. She didn’t want to screw that up.
Friends check in.
Nibbling her lip and trading her empty bottle for a fresh beer, she contemplated if company would be better than finishing the night alone. She grabbed her phone and called the bar.
“Jimbo’s,” Kyle answered the bar phone on the second ring.
“Hey.”
The familiar sounds of her work muffled through the phone and there was a long pause. “Should I lift a bottle of Patron for later? I knock off at two.”
She slid down the front of the refrigerator and sat on the floor. “I’d love to, but...” The but was there before she understood the rationale behind her refusal. “I have a lab tomorrow and I need to read about six chapters tonight to prepare.”
“Anna,” his voice softened against the commotion of a full bar in the background. “Maybe something came up, and he wanted to be there but just couldn’t.”
Maybe she would have believed that excuse if she hadn’t used it a hundred times before. “I’m fine. This is how he wants it, and it’s time I accepted that.” She should have accepted it ten years ago.
“At least you found him on Facebook. Maybe ask him what happened. Call him out on it.”
That wouldn’t happen. She’d stalk his pictures and follow his posts for a while, slip into a mild depression, shallow enough to hide her devastation from the rest of the world. Then she’d block him for her own good and move on.
It was a private process—had to be. While she was vulnerable enough to hurt, she had too much pride to show him just how much he could hurt her.
But Kyle didn’t need to know all that. “Maybe.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
She forced a smile. “You’re sweet, but no. I just need to push forward and let it go.”
“You sure you don’t want company tonight?”
A temporary fix that could really complicate things. “No, I’m good. But thanks. You’re a good friend.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night?”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t study too hard.”
She ended the call and shut her eyes trying to recall the last time she didn’t have this emptiness in her chest. She could fall asleep here, on the floor of her kitchen. That’s what happened when crazy dreams woke you up ten nights in a row. God, she was tired.
Her mind rested and for a few minutes she forgot she had hours of cramming ahead. In the silence, random memories skipped though her mind, like a scattered puzzle pieces that added up to encompass the jigsaw of her life.
The world never slowed enough for her to truly stop and appreciate the picture all the pieces made. But sometimes she managed to grab hold of a little piece and see the memory like it was brand new again.
Her smile stretched as she recalled the night her mother had tried making a casserole dish she found online. She’d burnt the bottom so badly they had to throw away the pan. Why that night was suddenly in her head she hadn’t a clue, but it was so clear she could almost smell the burnt cheese. That had been before the cancer.
“I miss you...”
Sometimes she envied religious people. Annalise had about as much faith in God as she did in Santa Claus. Losing a parent when all the right steps were taken and seeing the same treatments work for someone else’s mom but not hers... If she’d ever been a spiritual person, she wasn’t anymore. But she wished she at least had the faith to believe her mother was in a better place.
She shoved off the floor and carried her book bag to her bed. “God’s not gonna get you an A, so stop looking for Him.”
Why was she always searching for men who didn’t exist? Next, she’d be hung up waiting for Mr. Right. She plopped on the bed, belly first and sighed. “Time to focus.”
Paging through her text, she pushed her thoughts into the dependable world of science and facts. In her experience, there was more comfort in studying cellular science broken down to the function of organs than the philosophies of the human heart and its response to love.
Science was factual, inarguable, and safe. Love, spirituality, miracles... Those little girl magical beliefs couldn’t save her anymore.
Her prayers went unanswered for so long she’d forgotten how to pray. And while it was fun to think of her mother looking down from some fluffy cloud, Annalise was pretty sure all that remained of her family was buried at Beachwood Cemetery. And, believe it or not, that straightforward truth that people live and then they die, comforted her more than any hope or prayer ever could.
She turned the page, opening a new chapter in her biochemistry text. This was as honest as life got.