Page 103 of Nothing But It All
“She okay?” Dad asks.
“She’ll be fine. Eventually. There could be a few more days of dramatics before that happens, though.”
He chuckles as if he expected as much.
We sit together in silence. The only sound is the occasional squeak from the chair. Dad rocks steadily, watching the birds out the window.
I fall back against the cushions, the same ones that have occupied this cabin since I was a boy. Mom used to prop colorful decorative pillows and brightly colored blankets on the sofa. I never understood why, but I didn’t argue either—they were great for making forts.
“You know what?” Dad says. “Good.”
“Good?”
“Yeah.” He takes a drink. “It’s good that boy broke up with her.”
I sip my coffee. “I can’t say I’m torn up about it. But she’s over there crying her eyeballs out. That’s what gets me.”
“To hell with that kid.”
I place my mug on the table in front of me. “What’s gotten into you, Pops?”
“Nothing has gotten into me, Jack. She just doesn’t need no damn boyfriend.”
“Well, I happen to agree with you. But she had one, and now she’s upset. There’s nothinggoodabout that.”
He chuckles.
His nonchalant attitude about this situation surprises me.And it makes me mad.Maybe it’s because I’m tired—after a fantastic night with Lauren—or that I haven’t processed seeing my daughter truly cry for the first time, but his indifference to this topic gets under my skin.
My baby girl is hurting.Am I similarly glad she’s no longer dating Daniel?Yes, especially after he had the audacity to break up with her by text. But I think I’m more surprised by the two unexpected reactions—Michael jumping to Maddie’s defense and my father’s apathy.
Today is making no sense at all.
“You know what’s wrong with people these days?” he asks.
“I’d love for you to tell me.”
“They get too focused on shit that doesn’t matter in the end.”
What?My brows pull together as I try to make sense of the old man.
“Oh, come on, Jack. It’s not that hard to understand.” He takes another drink. “How many times a day do you get so absorbed in something that you won’t even remember the next day?”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
He stops rocking. “It has something to do witheverything.”
I lift my coffee and then stand, needing to move before I crawl out of my skin.
“Maddie’s sad,” Dad says. “I’m sorry to hear that. But she’ll be all right, and she’ll probably be better later because she’s gotten this out of the way. It’s a stepping stone of life, to lose your first love. It’ll happen at some point. Might as well get it over with.”
“When did you become so coldhearted?”
“It comes with age. You stop giving a shit about things that don’t matter. I don’t have enough energy to use worrying about everything anymore.”
I stop next to my mom’s bookcase and observe my father from across the room. His hair is lighter than I’ve seen it. I’m not sure if it’s the time of day or the shadows in the room, but his skin looks pale. Lines gather along his forehead and around his mouth, and I can’t help but wonder,When did he get so old?
“I sit here, or at home, and watch people scurry around like little ants,” he says. “They hurry over here to do something. Then they run over there and do something else. They’re always moving, always in a rush to go on to the next thing. Why be in such a frenzy to do more when you’re so damn busy that you don’t get to really do any of it?”
