My intention had been to get up in time to drive Grandma Gin to church the next morning. But it was well past 5 a.m. when I stopped thinking, stopped googling stuff on my phone, and finally fell asleep. The curtains in the TV room keep it dark, and no one else had woken me up. Sunday is the only day neither Grandma nor Grace work at Dairy Queen. Apparently Nels is a DQ prodigy and has learned to run the store all by himself.
I went upstairs and had some coffee. Grandma wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but she’d made a pot. Grace’s car was in the drive. I figured she must still be asleep.
Good, I thought. Grace should sleep as long as possible.
I called Dad, because I’d had some serious thoughts about how I should proceed, had done some research. There was due diligence that needed to be done. There were some things I needed to see to make any move forward. But I didn’t want to go by myself.
Dad lived in the shitty little apartment not to escape from me, but so I could continue to live in my house with my mom. That was a perspective that had never entered my mind. I decided if I was going to do what I wanted to do, I’d want Dad with me, because he has protected me (as has Mom), even though I didn’t appreciate it. But now I did appreciate it and I just wanted my dad. So I called him. He answered right away.
Turned out, Dad was already at our house. When I got there, he and Mom were sitting at the little circular table in the kitchen. They had a photo album out, Hannah’s from when she was five years old. They were looking at a picture of her wearing a Santa suit and crying mightily. They were both either laughing or crying themselves.
Laughing. Mom looked up and smiled. “Hi, honey,” she said. “I think we tortured you guys when you were kids. Look at this.”
“Yeah. You guys were terrible to us,” I said. But I smiled. They were actually pretty great. I was a toddler that year. They dressed me as an elf. I loved that picture. I always loved Hannah, and I’m sure I loved acting like Santa’s helper.
“It’s lunchtime. You slept in,” Dad said. “Very un-Isaiah-like.”
“I was up late with Grandma.”
“Yeah. She texted us this morning,” Mom said.
“Wow. She’s a texting machine now,” I said.
“How are you feeling?” Dad asked.
“Like I’ve lived three lifetimes in the last week,” I said.
“Sounds about right,” Dad said.
“Isaiah, we’ve been talking. About you and college and your plans for next year,” Mom said. “You need to know, I get it. I haven’t been open to listening to your ideas, at all. For some reason I got it into my head that it was your plan to stay here and I was just supporting you. It’s weird how I’ve made my hopes into your hopes. It’s . . . it’s just really wrong.”
I looked at her for a moment. The truth was, I wasn’t entirely sure what my hopes or ideas were for college at that moment. Part of me did want to stay in town. That wasn’t fake. Part of me wanted to leave and never come back here. That didn’t seem reasonable. “Thanks,” I said. “I might have some ideas about what I want to do, but I don’t know what that means about college yet.”
“No pressure!” Mom said with a big, goofy, self-understanding smile.
I turned to my dad. “Hey, I’ve got to go run some errands,” I said.
“On Sunday? What errands?” Dad asked.
“Well, maybe just one errand. I want to go up to school to see Kirby. He works on film all day on Sundays. Maybe a couple of errands after, but I don’t know. Would you mind coming with me? I’m a little . . . I just want someone else to drive.”
“Of course. You got it,” Dad said.
“Do you want me to come along, too?” Mom asked.
“No. I want to be with Dad,” I said quietly.
Mom swallowed hard. “Are you going to rejoin the football team?” she asked. “I won’t stand in your way, but I want you to know I’m still worried.”
“I know. I don’t know. I have to think more. See something. Due diligence. That’s why I want to catch Kirby while he’s putting together game film.”
Mom nodded. “Okay,” she said.