Stop Standing There

It was the Saturday after the road trip, and Max and I had decided to meet up at Sally's, a small cafe on the outskirts of Vancouver. I wasn't sure how being in a public place would go over, but Max had seemed pretty sure of himself, and so I was alright with it.

I was just about to head into the shower when the main phone in Skylar and I's apartment started to ring. I turned around, staring at it, puzzled, before hastily grabbing the phone. I picked it up and said a curious, "Hello?"

"Sarah?"

My hands froze and my mouth opened and closed for a few seconds before I managed, "Dad?"

"Sarah, sweetie, hi." I couldn't believe he was calling. I hadn't heard from him in a long time. This was completely unexpected.

"Hi...?"

"Hi, honey. How are you?"

I felt my shoulders relax and I slowly pulled out a chair. I sat down, running my free hand through my hair. He was calling to check up on me? Even if I was a bit bitter about him not having called for a while, the thought warmed me.

"I'm pretty good. How about you?"

"Good," he replied quickly. And without even a breath, he said, "I was wondering if you could do something for me." He paused, and I held back a disappointed sigh. "I have a client in Vancouver-" my heart sank. "- and he ordered a shipment, but one of the family members who's name is on the business has to sign. I was wondering if you two could meet up and-"

"Yeah, sure, Dad." I tried to sound cheerful, even though I felt like I had been kicked in the gut... several times.

"Thank you, sweetie," he said, followed quickly by, "I have to go. Business, you know. Bye."

I had hardly opened my mouth to reply when I heard the dial tone. I held the phone out and stared at it, sinking back into the wooden chair. I listened to the faint beeping coming from the other end, before I clicked it off with a shaking thumb. I set the phone down on the table, feeling disappointment seeping through my veins. What else should I have expected?

I glanced at the clock, my eyes brimming over with tears. I bit back a sob before wiping a drop off my chin and squinting through the blur; 2:45. Crap. I pushed myself off of the chair and rushed into the bathroom. I leaned forward against the counter, staring at my broken appearance. I took a deep breath before pushing myself up, turning on the faucets, and splashing water in my face. I opened my eyes and took another breath. Okay. I could do this.

Perfect.

I had to be perfect. Everyone had to think I was okay.

I guess it was part of our family heritage. Put together business people. That was us. When I was younger, I was taught that if I was not perfectly presentable and happy, people would get a bad impression, and things wouldn't go well. I took that and began to think that if I didn't look perfect or act perfect all the time in public, I was a failure. Things would fall apart if I wasn't perfectly put together. And, with the way things were going right now, I had to make sure I stayed together. I had to. I couldn't break down.

Why today?

***

I pulled up to the cafe 4 minutes late. I took one last look at myself in the mirror, sighing as I realized my eyes were still red. That was one thing about when I cried - it didn't go away as easily as it did for some other people. It really irritated me. I didn't need people to know I was upset I took a deep breath before stepping out of the car, smoothing down my outfit and trying to think of an excuse for my puffy eyes.

The parking lot wasn't crowded at all. The building was small, but it was quaint and cute. As I reached the door to the cafe, I couldn't help but feel even the slightest bit better to see Max smiling at me from inside. I opened the door to find him waiting, leaning against the wall.

"I'm sorry I'm late," I said, chewing down on my lip. I sniffled, avoiding his eyes, hoping it would seem just as though I had a runny nose, nothing more.

"It's okay, we 'ave plenty of time." Max's smile faded a bit as he looked at me. I flashed him a forced smile before turning to head into the restaurant.

Max fell into step beside me as we walked, and although I felt his eyes on me, I didn't look at him. He picked a booth in the corner, and helped me out of my jacket. We sat down across from one another, and I pretended to busy myself with the menu. In reality, all I could think about was my father. I bit down on my lip hard, trying not to cry again. I hastily wiped at my eye, and as it fell back down on the table, Max's hand gently rested on top of it. I felt warmth shoot through me and I caught my breath. I looked up at him, and when I met his concerned eyes, a tear slid down my cheek.

"Sarah," he said gently. I sighed shakily. When I finished wiping at my cheek with the back of my free hand, I noticed that Max's thumb was gently rubbing back and forth against my skin. I met his eyes again, and he raised his eyebrows questioningly. "What's up?"

I shook my head, licking my lips and letting out a bitter laugh. I sighed, leaning my head on my hand and my elbow on the table. "I don't... Let's just not talk about it, okay? I'll be okay. I'm sorry." I took a deep breath, giving him a tiny smile.

"Okay." He nodded slowly, removing his hand from mine. I instantly wished he hadn't.

I opened my eyes and sat up straighter, shaking my shoulders. "I probably look ridiculous," I laughed, imagining the state my face was in. I told myself not to care, but I knew I would probably be thinking about it all night.

Max shook his head, his gaze locked on mine. "Tu es tellement belle, comme toujours."

I felt a blush creep up onto my cheeks, and Max's lips turned up into a smile. The only word I got out of his sentence was 'belle', and that was enough to know what he meant.