Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chloe
I’m on a trip to the coast again. I need to be with my dad. I blast music on the hour and a half drive and promise myself I’ll not allow stress to fill me on this visit. This is all about relaxation and keeping the rest of the world locked out.
I arrive early in the afternoon. I’m taking my dad out for a nice lunch, some place with a great view. Then we’ll go for a walk on the beach and catch up. I never know when I’ll be able to come back so I need to make the most of all of my time with my dad.
He comes out to his porch; his trademark smile filling my heart with joy. Any worries I’ve had slowly melt away. I never realize how much I miss him until I see his sweet face again.
“Dad!” My face hurts from smiling so wide.
“I get two visits in less than a month. This is wonderful,” he says as he gives me a hard squeeze.
“And I’m taking you to lunch. I’m starving.” He frowns when I tell him this.
“I have some rice and beans prepared.”
I laugh. “I know that’s all you need, but I like flavor.” He frowns for a moment as if planning to argue with me about how real food tastes wonderful, but then he shrugs and smiles.
“You’re spoiled,” he says.
“That’s because of you. Now get whatever you need because we’re going to be out for a while. I want to play today, do some shopping, and get everything we need so we don’t have to go to town again. I want to spend the next few days doing nothing more than vegging out in paradise.”
This makes him smile. He takes pride in his home, and he loves how much I treasure it.
We climb into my car and make our way down the hill toward the coastline. “Is there anywhere you have in mind?” I ask.
“You choose. You know the area well.” He knows I’ll find a place that will fit with his diet. I love his quirky ways.
“How have you been? I didn’t get to talk to you nearly enough the past few weeks.”
“I can’t complain,” he tells me.
“It’s not that you can’t. It’s just that you never will.” It’s one more thing about him that’s so dang enduring.
“There’s nothing to complain about,” he assures me. “What has you in such a good mood? Not that there’s anything wrong with it. I’m glad to see you looking so much more at peace.”
“I’m excited about my new job. I hated the last one, and this company I’m with now is great.” He smiles at me, the fatherly smile that tells me he has something to say. I wait. I value his words of wisdom far more than I did when I was younger.
“Just be sure you don’t make work your entire life. There’s so much more out in the world than the hustle and bustle of the nine to five.”
“I promise I won’t get consumed by it. I learned that from you, and I know how important it is to truly live. I remember you telling me there was more to life than money. I thought you were crazy at the time, but I realize now that life is about all of our experiences. None of the stuff really matters at the end of the day. Sure, it’s fun to buy new clothes and fancy furniture, but if my house goes up in flames, it won’t be the possessions I’ll be grabbing first, it will be my photo albums filled with all of my happy memories,” I say. “The memories I have because of you.” I have a hard time not choking up as I finish speaking.
“That’s my girl. I’m proud of you,” my dad says. It sends a glow through me. I like him being proud of me, love that there’s nothing I can do that will make him feel disappointed in me. We all need one person we know we can never disappoint. For me, this person is, and always will be, my father.
“I love that you always encourage me, that you make me feel like a good person.” I’m emotional as we pull up to a little dive on the edge of town. It doesn’t look like much, but the food’s fantastic, and the view is spectacular. Dad nods his approval.
“I worry about you all of the time. There’s so much bad in this world, and while I don’t want you to focus on it, I want you aware of it. I don’t like you living in the city. But I guess bad things happen in good places just like they happen in those overcrowded metropolises,” he says with a sigh.
“I take care of myself, Dad. I promise. I’ve taken self-defense classes, and I make sure I’m never out late, especially alone. I don’t want to live in fear, but I do live in reality,” I assure him.
“Good. I don’t think there’s too much more I can teach you.”
The diner’s crowded, but we manage to get a table on the back deck, the last one available, without a wait. We order food and continue chatting.
“How are things with you and Paul?” he asks.
I cringe the slightest bit. I know we have to talk about my boyfriend, but I don’t want to. I don’t want my good mood to be dampened.
“I honestly can’t answer that. I don’t know. It’s more like we’ve become roommates. Neither of us seems to address any of our issues. If we do try to discuss something, by morning we pretend the conversation didn’t happen.” I don’t go into full detail.
“Are you intimate?” he asks.
It doesn’t matter that I’m an adult, heat rushes to my cheeks at his question. I gaze at my cup of coffee and wait for the floor to swallow me. It doesn’t happen.
“No,” I finally say. “Not for a while.” I’m mortified to admit this.
“That’s definitely a problem.” Thankfully he drops the subject. My father isn’t that typical dad afraid to discuss certain topics. He raised me to be independent and confident and this includes talking to me about uncomfortable subjects. In his opinion it’s all part of life, nothing to be ashamed of.
We finish our lunch without any further awkward questions and then stroll on the beach for hours, collecting seashells and looking for glass balls. It’s a warm day with a perfect breeze blowing off of the water. I feel sixteen again, without a care in the world.
When we’re back in the cabin I relax, feeling refreshed and better than I have in a long while. Things truly are going to be okay. They have to be if I want it enough.
I remember a church lesson from my youth where I’d been told God would never give us more than we could handle. He might push us to the brink so we will know our own strength, but he’ll never push us over the edge.
What I haven’t considered about this beautiful lesson, is that while God might not give us more than we can handle, we might be foolish enough to do it to ourselves. I’m certainly in that category now.
I’ve pushed myself so far over the edge, I’m not sure if I can find a handhold to pull myself back up. It’s okay, though, for at least two days I’m with my dad, and the rest of the world can’t weigh me down.