Ihold the letter over my head as I read. My dad walks around my house.
“I like what you did here.” He points to the wall I painted, trying to distract me. “I’ve got places to be, darlin’. So if you want to write a response, snap to it.”
“Dad,” I groan. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
“Just keeping things movin’ along.” He snaps his fingers loudly, and it echoes through the little church.
I grab my stationery.
Tank,
I like your doodles. They tell me as much about you as your words. Maybe even more.
You already know more about me than I do about you, but I’ll answer your questions.
You. You make my heart beat fast.
I stare at the ceiling because it reminds me of the safe place that exists in my mind. I cry for those who couldn’t find their way there and had to endure in reality.
Oh, I tried the hot fudge sundae in Iowa, but I’m sure you already know that being as you were there. Mint chip is still my favorite.
Let’s just stick to one question per letter, because my dad is an asshole and rushing me.
I smile at my dad sweetly while I write, knowing he’s going to read this as soon as he leaves.
What is your favorite color … and why?
Kelsie
My dad grabs the letter out of my hand and begins to read. He runs his hand down his beard as he steps away, his eyes still on the page.
“Have a good day!” I yell as the door falls closed behind him.
As soon as it clicks shut, I shove Tank’s letter to my nose. It smells a little like diesel fuel.
I shrug my shoulders and dance around the room … like a fool in love.