Forelsket

The dawn glistened off the chlorine filled water. The water was still, even when a breeze past through making the air around me feel almost suffocating. I took a couple steps to the edge of the pool taking in the sight of morning fighting for the night’s horizon and let my foot slide into the water. It was cold from being in the dark and rippled toward the other end after my disturbance. The cool liquid was exhilarating sending a chill up my leg. I felt exhaustion still tug at my eyes. Something in me kept drawing my tired body closer to icy wake up.

“You’re not going to jump in are you?” I turned around quickly at the words—my hair flying in my face—only to see my father walking toward me with two mugs. His hair was gelled back and he was wearing a pair of black slacks— starting to look as if he had his life together for the day. His worn out black Metallica shirt, however, still looked like sleep, blissful missed sleep. “Coffee?” He motioned one of the mugs in my direction. Inside was a pale brown liquid while the other was black, his I noted.

I nodded taking the cup obviously meant for me and held it tightly. “It’s going to be hot today.” I said before blowing on the coffee and taking a sip.

My observation pulled a smirk from his slightly emotionless face. “It’s only 70 degrees.”

“It’s also 5 am.” We both chuckled. I took a couple steps closer to him and put my head on his arm. He smelled of his special occasion cologne and old spice deodorant. The familiar smell took away some of the butterflies cocooned my stomach.

“Are you excited?” He hinted nudging my head.

“I’m tired,” I admitted.

“Because you didn’t sleep, did you?” he had on a snarky smile. The father knows best smile. He pressed the mug to his lips and took a long slow sip. His grey blue eyes—genetically reproduced on me— kept looking at me curiously.

“I didn’t,” I answered slowly.

“You shouldn’t be anxious” he was very matter-of-factly. The way that all older people are when they become nostalgic on events long since passed. Ones that the people they’re talking to are currently losing sleep over, that they once lost sleep over.

“Easier said than done,” I pulled my head off his arm and faced him.

“It’s your high school graduation, you can be anxious when you’re at your college graduation without a job perspective. Until then…” He clinked his mug to mine and gave me a smile. “Just breathe, and don’t trip.”

The silence that formed around us felt drowsy. Neither of us were awake enough to talk about anything. Neither of us really wanted to talk about the things we needed to right now. But, “Is she coming?” came abruptly from me. Whether he wanted to hear it or not, it was question that needed to be asked. I didn’t look at him after I vomited the three words. I was scared to see his face. I needed to know the answer. I just hated asking the question.

My father might not be known for his emotional displays but his face always lost some spark, some color, and framed his wrinkles more whenever she was brought up. He took a couple seconds before, “Gwen,” my name had the connotation of bad news. He put his hand under my chin making me look at him. “I’ll be there, Stephen, Judy, and Kevin. We’ll be there for you.”

“She’s not coming?” I could feel my throat close up and water prick at my tired eyes.

My dad pressed his lips to my forehead. “I’m sorry peanut, she can’t make it.”

I could have gotten angry. I could have thrown my cup as the ground. I could have jumped in the pool. I could have cried. “Are you sure?” But I didn’t. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of emotion.

He nodded softly. “Come on, I’ll make waffles.”

I followed him into the house. The air conditioner clicked on after I closed the door. It was a small hum that echoed in the somber house. My brothers were still upstairs asleep. My step-mother stood on the stairs in her favorite sun dress, hair up in curlers, holding a garment bag.

“Good, you’re up.”

` I’ve been up all night.

She had been waiting for us to walk back inside. God forbid she actually let anyone see her still in the process of being made up. Her heels clicked off key with the AC’s humming as she paced toward me.

“Yeah, dad’s making breakfast.” I met her halfway in the living room. I carefully placed my mug on the entertainment center next to a professional picture of Stephen and I from before she entered our world. Stephen was 8, sporting dreadful stiches over his left eye caused by a hockey accident, and I was 7, terrible fringe bangs and braided pigtails caused by grandmothers desire to make me look like Pippi Longstocking.

“I’ve got your graduation dress and I just woke up the boys,” she already sounded frantic. “We’ve got to be there at 7:30 right?”

I nodded “I’ve got to be there at 7, so that gives us a good hour and half to eat and get ready.”

“Have you not started?” She said looking me up and down.

I tugged on my George Washington High School hoodie and groaned. “It’s not going to take me that long to get ready….” I pointed out.

“Hair, makeup, have you even showered yet?” Her antagonizing run down was tugging at my nerves. I was too tired to really care if I was running late by her standards, but I wasn’t waking up at 3am and spending two hours looking decent enough for her to really be willing to take a photo with me. I’m just going to sweat through all my effort anyway just sitting there waiting for them to call my name.

“I’m just going to straighten my hair; it’s under a cap anyway. I showered last night. And makeup isn’t going to take a half hour…” I tried to appeal to her with no avail.

With her pursed lips, I took it as my key walk away from her toward the smell of syrup and more coffee but she grabbed my arm. “You need to get dressed at least.” I groaned and took the garment bag from her.

“Fine,” I took a couple steps toward my room and paused. Stephen was leaning against the bannister at the top of the stairs watching everything. He forced a smile before starting down.

“Morning Graduate,” he pressed his lips to my cheek and then pushed me toward my room on the first floor. He plopped on my bed. I grabbed my shoes and undergarments before walking into my bathroom, clicking the door closed and began to change into the 60’s style short graduation dress. It was white, or ivory, or whatever shade of the color white a fashion designer would call it. It fit pretty well considering it was bought months ago.

“Zipper,” I said reentering my bedroom. He unwillingly stood up and tugged the zipper easily.

“You clean up well,” he joked. I slapped him playfully. “Seriously sis, you look good.”

“Good enough for Judy?”

“Do your other girly things first and then maybe.” We both laughed.

Abruptly he pulled me into a hug. “I heard already…” I mumbled into my shoulder.

“How?”

“Dad told me last night.” He pulled away and went back to the bed. “If it helps, she didn’t come to mine either.” He reminded me.

“Not really.” I admitted sheepishly.

Stephen looked more like her, mocha brown eyes, sandy brown hair messy from sleep, high cheekbones and dimples whenever he smiled. The only thing he really got from our dad was his 6 foot 1 stature and lean body.

“I really wish she would have just sucked it up…” I pulled out my straightener and plugged it.

He let out a low groan, implying he was done with my pity-party. “So you’ll stop being a sourpuss, I’ve got your present.”

“You got me something.” I turned to him holding a small box. It was wrapped with a little red bow. He put it in my hands slowly.

“Open it.”

I followed his instructions. Inside the jewelry box was a necklace. A small lighthouse charm sat on top of a heart locket wound around a silver chain. “Stephen, it’s beautiful.” I pulled it from the box and gave it to him. I pulled up my hair and he put it on.

“Lighthouses were designed to help sailors find the shore in the dark. Whenever life gets hard, the waves become too much to handle, look for the light. It will guide you home.”

“Stephen,” I hugged him tightly. “It’s perfect…”

“Eh, it’s a bit sappy but you get the point.”

I nodded. “It’s wonderful.”

“Open the locket…” he teased. “It gets dorkier.”

Inside there was a picture and the quote that he had recited to me. The picture was the four of us. Stephen, Dad, me and her. We’re little, so little that memory wasn’t a reliable thing. We looked like such a happy family in sand playing. Smiles all around.

“Judy would hate this.” I hinted at the lack of her and Kevin, our half-brother, in the photo.

“She can suck it. You like it. That’s what matters”

“I do,” I smiled and held in in my hand. “Is it okay to be scared?” I asked him after contemplating the question over in my head. I made sure to look down avoiding all eye contact after asking. Sure that he would be worried. I hated seeing the crease in his forehead when it came to me. He worried about me too much as it was.

He was taken aback with the question. “What are you scared of Gwen?”

“It’s not graduation.” I confessed. “It’s college. It’s being completely boring this summer, it’s getting to college and wasting all this time and not have –I don’t know fallen in love or rock climbed, or snuck out.” I fell onto my hope chest at the foot of my bed with a sigh. “I’m afraid that I haven’t appreciated my youth.”

“Aren’t you too young for a midlife crisis?” He joked and sat next to. His face straightened when he saw I was serious. “Gwen,” he took a deep breath. “It’s okay to feel like you’ve got a million things on your bucket list. You shouldn’t be scared that you haven’t lived well or well enough,” he smiled. “And as for falling in love…I’ll kill him.” He messed up my hair and started to leave.

“So,” he paused for me to finish. “I’m not crazy.”

“Oh you are.” He smirked. “Finish getting ready or step-monsters going to have a panic attack.” We both laughed. “By the way, Congrats” with that he left the room and me alone.