Chapter 14 #3
Finally, we swam past a large formation and into what looked like an open arena.
Toward the opposite side, sitting on a shell throne on a dais, was a man with bluish skin, a white beard that covered his chest, and an orange fish tail.
He held a trident in his right hand and gestured at us with his left.
I was less than useless; maybe it was that I’d already played for hours, or maybe it was my dad.
Normally, when I was upset, I loved killing things.
But today...I felt adrift. I couldn’t summon the energy to swim and just floated on the current.
Sure, I made a few hits, but my reactions were slow, and my attention was on the invitation sitting beside me on the dresser.
I hardly remembered any of the fight. They managed to defeat him without me.
I refused all loot. The others took off, leaving me and IK floating in a boat instead of under our usual willow tree.
Maybe it was metaphorical. Did they really need me?
They seemed to do the quest just fine on their own.
IvoryKnight: What’s wrong?
It didn’t take his genius skills in reading me to figure that out today. I was practically screaming it.
ScarlettSaber: My dad invited me and Mom to his wedding.
IvoryKnight: Ouch.
Ouch was right. Ouch, ouch, ouch. It hurt deep inside.
IvoryKnight: Are you going to go?
ScarlettSaber: How could I? He’s about to become a dad again.
IvoryKnight: Wow. I know you don’t want to hear this right now. But his choices have nothing to do with you. He has his own stuff going on. Maybe you should be happy that he’s found happiness.
I fought the tears while I said goodbye and logged off.
In the tiny kitchen, I struggled with the oven, rotating the casserole as usual because one of the elements was broken.
All I could see was the giant crab claw lying on the sea floor.
One of two things broken and abandoned. This time I barely held back the tears.
My nose burned with the effort. It wasn’t like we could afford a new oven on Mom’s salary alone.
And when I tried to make a dressing for the salad to go with our meal, the blender’s motor gave off a burning smell.
We couldn’t afford to fix any of this junk while Dad and Val were expecting brand-new wedding presents.
I couldn’t hold on anymore, and the tears poured out.
My world was falling apart, our home was falling apart—just as everything had been going so well. I should’ve known.
When the tears ran out, I washed my face and got to work.
IK’s words rang in my ears as I angry-cleaned the living room and kitchen, waiting for Mom to get home.
As I dusted the run-down furniture, each item drove the point home of how we were living a tattered life while he continued on as if nothing had happened.
I dusted a picture of me and Mom from a few years before.
Dad was already out of the picture. Not always there when we needed him.
Dinner was done, and the pasta casserole cooled on top of the oven, filling the room with the aroma of cheesy tomato goodness.
But I couldn’t enjoy it. I was still taking Dad’s wedding personally.
I knew IK was right. Dad wasn’t thinking about me or Mom right now.
He was only thinking about himself. That was the very thing that hurt.
Didn’t our love, our emotions, our happiness mean anything to him anymore?
The front doorknob squeaked, and I threw my dust rag in the clean sink. I turned to face Mom with a smile. “Welcome home.”
“Mmm. That smells delicious. Just let me get changed.”
I set the table while Mom put on something comfortable.
I hated that I was going to ruin her night...
but she had asked me not to lie to her about Dad’s doings again.
Even a lie of omission. I filled the water glasses and almost spilled as I served them; my hands were shaking so much.
I felt like one of those wooden dolls on an elastic string, where if you pull each end of the elastic, the pieces float separately, but when you release it, they all slam together.
Mom sat down, and we started to eat.
“I have something to tell you.”
She looked up into my eyes and dropped her fork. “What?”
Like tearing off a Band-Aid. “Dad’s getting married.”
I slid the invitation across the table toward her. “Val’s pregnant.”
It felt like the final hit that took my health bar to zero.
Her eyes widened, but she didn’t yell, scream, or throw anything.
“That’s nice. Do you want to go?”
I shook my head.
“Then we should let them know politely that we aren’t coming. Weddings are big events, and it is difficult to get an accurate head count.” Mom appeared composed, but the tightness around her eyes betrayed her.
I stared at her in awe. “I’ll do it.”
I wasn’t sure if polite was something Mom could handle when it came to Dad. For that matter, I was going to have a hard time being polite myself. Though she was taking it much better than I expected.
She set down the invitation and wiped her mouth with the napkin. “Thanks for dinner, but I’m feeling rather tired.”
She disappeared into her room, and I knew I wouldn’t see her again tonight.
I put away the food, separating pieces into to-go containers and freezing most of them for her lunches and future dinners.
I’d been slowly building up freezer meals for when I was gone.
With the kitchen clean, I went to my room.
I pulled out paper, then dug for an envelope—we used them so rarely.
After some careful thought, the words flowed, thanking them for thinking of us but declining the invitation.
I went out to the kitchen junk drawer to find a stamp.
As I passed her door, I could hear the sobbing.
How was I supposed to leave in just a few weeks?