Page 69 of Just Like This
I felt restless so I stood and walked over to the shelves filled with records. I flipped through them until I found the worn album cover that I was looking for, Van Morrison’s “Moondance.” It was one of my father’s favorites, and it had often been played on Sunday mornings when my mother would cook a huge breakfast. She was his gypsy, and he’d tried to tame her. I headed to the stereo and placed the record on the turntable. Carefully, I lifted the needle until it caught on the record. Soon, the room was filled with Van Morrison’s smooth voice. Reclaiming my seat, I held my father’s hand and listened quietly to as we drifted off into Van Morrison’s mystic.
* * *
The bright sunstirred me from my sleep. My eyes fluttered open, and I realized that I was still in the armchair next to my father’s bed. One glance at his chest slowly rising and falling, and I knew we had made it through the night. He had lived to see another day. I slipped my hand from his and stood, stretching out my sore muscles. I smiled as I remembered the brief conversation with Garrett last night. The sound of his voice was a balm to my weary heart. I quietly let myself out of my father’s room and walked to the kitchen. Valerie and my mom were sitting in the sunny room, sipping coffee and eating the remnants of a cake I baked yesterday. I cut myself a healthy slice and joined them.
“How is he doing?” my mother asked me with a knowing glint in her eye.
“He’s sleeping.” I bit into the cake as Valerie placed a mug filled with coffee in front of me.
“You were listening to ‘Moondance’ last night?”
“Yes. I thought it would make him feel better.”
“Good choice. We only have to worry when he starts asking for Neil Young.” All three of us laughed at the memory of my father’s infamous Neil Young phase.
“No offense to ‘Heart of Gold,’ but I never want to hear ‘Old Man’ again,” Valerie said with a smile. It felt good to laugh after what felt like weeks of walking around on eggshells.
“Garrett called last night,” I informed them. As I recapped the brief conversation, I realized how relieved I felt knowing that after three weeks, he was safe. If something had happened, then surely his brother Oliver would have called.
“I’m so happy you were able to talk to him. I know you worry about him and your father,” my mother said, covering my hand gently with hers. For the first time since her return, I didn’t pull away from her touch. It wasn’t quite forgiveness, but I had to admit that having the comfort of my mother made this unbearable situation tolerable.
When I returned to my little sanctuary in the guest house, I opened my email expecting to find one from Garrett since he returned to base. But there wasn’t one. Disappointed, I opened a blank email.
To:[emailprotected]
From:[emailprotected]
Subject: Long Night
We endured the night—Dad made it through. After our brief conversation, I went to his room and spent time with him. I put on one of his favorite records, one that brought me nothing but happiness as a child, and listened to it quietly while I sat next to him. It was nice just spending that time with him, even if he didn’t know that I was there.
Things with my mom are slowly improving. I feel almost relieved that she is here now because she shares some of the weight of caring for my father. We had a moment today too… where I didn’t back away from her touch. It’s a small step toward forgiveness, but that path is miles long.
I want to say something, though I’ll probably sound like a brat. I was so disappointed with how short our phone call was and then to find no email waiting for me made it worse. I miss you like crazy and hearing the sound of your voice only made me crave more. It’s been a month. I know that I can endure eight more, but I don’t know how long I can with radio silence.
I love you. Stay safe.
Yours, Cami.
