Infinite (Strange and Beautiful, Book 1) (80 page)

“Good.
I’m glad.” Jackson seemed so sincere. I found it incredibly sweet that he
actually cared enough to notice and ask. Most guys probably wouldn’t, but I was
lucky because my boyfriend wasn’t like most guys. I guess maybe Skylar had a
point when she said that my future boyfriend would probably be weird too—except
Jackson wasn’t necessarily weird; he was just more thoughtful.

“Me
too,” I agreed as the bell rang, signaling lunch was over.

Thankfully,
all went as planned and Dad was released from the hospital. Mom’s car was in
the driveway when Skylar and I got home, and Dad was camped out on the couch,
snoring loudly, while Mom dozed on the recliner.

She
opened her eyes when we entered the room, though, and smiled slightly, looking
more relaxed than I’d seen her in days.

“Hey,
girls.”

“Hi,”
Skylar and I answered in unison.

“How
long have you been home?” Skylar asked.

Mom
yawned as she glanced at the clock above the entertainment center. “A couple of
hours. How was school?”

I
shrugged and Skylar made a face.

“Oh,
that well, huh?” Mom smiled as Dad’s snoring ceased as he began to stir. Skylar
and I both looked over to him as his eyes cracked open.

“Hi,
girls,” he smiled tiredly.

“Hey,
Dad.” I walked over and kissed him on the forehead. “How are you feeling?”

“Much
better now that I’m home.”

Like
Mom, he asked about school. When Luke meandered in, he was asked the same
battery of questions. It was obvious that Dad was still tired, though, so I
excused myself on the claim that I had homework to do.

Skylar
had to get back to work. She’d called in to work all weekend, but she decided she
should probably get back to work now that Dad was home and seemed to be okay.
Luke stayed with Dad, though, while Mom decided to go lie down upstairs for a
nap.

“I’ll
order something for dinner,” she called after me as I headed upstairs.

In
the end, that wasn’t necessary because Travis and Tegan showed up later that
evening, after Mom woke from her nap and I’d wondered back downstairs to the
living room where Luke was watching television while Dad faded in and out of
sleep. Travis had baked a huge pan of lasagna I was certain would last the rest
of the week despite Luke’s very healthy eating habits. 

Mom
thanked Travis about a million times, insisting he shouldn’t have gone to so
much trouble, but I think we were all grateful for his generosity. As much as I
liked fast food, I was ready for a real meal. Along with the lasagna, Travis
brought homemade breadsticks and fresh salad. It was by far the best meal I’d
had in a while.

After
dinner, I loaded the dishes into the washer while Mom decided to do some
laundry. Hers had started to pile up over the weekend. I’d have done it for
her, but I knew she was a bit picky about how things were done. Besides, I
figured maybe she’d consider doing laundry to be cathartic since she seemed to
enjoy folding it so much.

Once
the dishwasher was running, I went into the living room with Dad while Luke
went upstairs to work on his homework.

“Dinner
was excellent,” Dad commented, resting his head against the back of the
recliner. “Especially after the sorry excuse for food they served at the
hospital.”

Mom
and Luke had helped Dad ease into the seat because he wasn’t supposed to push
or pull himself with his arms. It was somewhat awkward that he wasn’t wearing a
shirt because it left the incision from his surgery showing, standing out
brightly against his pale chest. I was sure it would leave an ugly scar. I
wondered out loud if it hurt, and Dad looked down at it, nodding. “It’s not
exactly pretty either, is it?”

“They
say scars add character,” I tried.

Dad
nodded. “I suppose that’s probably true.”

We
were quiet for a long time after that. CNN was on, and while I usually didn’t
enjoy watching the news—it was always so depressing—I didn’t have anything else
to do. Changing the channel was out of the question, and I was happy to spend
the time just sitting quietly with Dad, appreciating the fact that he was
there, alive and getting well.

“Cecilia?”
Dad said after a while.

“Yeah?”
Expecting him to ask me to fetch something for him, I sat forward.

“Sweetie,
I want to apologize,” he said instead. I was confused and surprised, but I
didn’t need to ask why he was apologizing because he continued on. “I know
things haven’t been great around here lately. There’s been so much going on and
a lot of tiffs that had left the atmosphere a bit tense.”

I
nodded, acknowledging the truth of that statement.

“I
just want you to know that I’m sorry. My behavior has been deplorable, at best,
many times,” he said. “I hate that things haven’t been good around here because
of me. Even though none of the problems have anything to do with you, directly,
I’m sure they still affect you. I also know you’ve been a bit lost in the
shuffle. I hate that I haven’t been a good dad to you, but I’m going to try
harder from here on out.”

I
was dumbstruck. Dad wasn’t typically prone to the random statement nor was he
particularly verbose. I’d never expected him to say anything of this sort
because the words were so unlike him. Sure, he’d apologized and acknowledged I
was growing up some months earlier, but this was just so strange. Even though
Dad had never been as involved as some parents, I’d never really felt he wasn’t
a good dad.

I
wasn’t sure how to respond. I felt like he was being harder on himself than
required. Still, I liked the idea of Dad being more active in my life. I’d
longed for the kind of father daughter relationship Tegan and Travis had. I
thought it would be great if I could have just a bit of that with Dad. I just
didn’t want him believe I felt neglected.

In
the end, I finally said, “I’d like that, Dad. I’d like that a lot.”

I’d
always prided myself in paying attention to details; I was rarely ever unaware
of my surroundings; if anything, I was too wrapped up in what was happening
around me. The only time my brain shut those things out was when I was too
emotionally distressed to pay attention.

Even
though Dad was on the mend, we all had to adjust to having him around the house
all the time. It was somewhat strange since Dad hadn’t been quite so present
around the house in the past.

Despite
Dad’s protests, Mom used the last of her sick days to be home with him during
his first week back home. If she’d had the vacation time, I was sure she would
have used that as well and taken off the remainder of the school year.

“It’s
fine, Leela,” Dad said when Mom fretted the night before she had to go back to
work. “I’m not an invalid. The physical therapist said it’s good for me to get
around on my own.”

“I
know that,” Mom sighed. “I just worry.”

“Too
much,” he insisted. “I’ll be fine. It’ll be nice to have a break from everyone
fawning over me.”

Still,
Dad needed our help, and that kept us all busy, which was why I was caught so
unawares that the last three weeks of school had zoomed by in a blur and the
last day of school arrived. Even through studying for finals, it hadn’t
registered that it looked as though I would survive my freshman year.

If
I was being completely honest with myself, it wasn’t just the last few weeks of
school that had passed quickly; the last five months seemed to escape me as
well. The last time the world hadn’t felt like it was spinning at neck-breaking
speed was back in December.

Everything
seemed to happen so fast after Christmas. How was it possible Jackson and I had
been together for five months? It seemed impossible so much time had passed. I
could still remember how exhilarating it’d felt when I’d, first, discovered
that he actually liked me the way I liked him, and, second, how amazing it had
been that first time he kissed me. Incredibly, it still felt just as amazing
when he kissed me; I couldn’t imagine it ever feeling less than perfect.

Also,
hadn’t it just been yesterday when Mom and Dad told us that Mom was pregnant?
In the two months since, she’d developed a visible baby bump. I was sure it
hadn’t been there a couple of weeks ago, or maybe I just hadn’t noticed. I used
to always think it was my job to notice these things. Apparently, I’d been
shirking my observational responsibilities.

Honestly,
the time leap left me feeling baffled. Rationally, it all made sense. I could
remember something significant from each of the last five months. It just felt
like it all happened way too fast. “Time flies” felt like such a gross
understatement.

On
Thursday morning, the last day of school, I woke to chaos. Skylar was still in
the bathroom, presumably primping, and Luke was in the hallway, banging on the
bathroom door.

He
took one look at me with my clean clothes tucked under my arm and shook his
head. “You’ll have to wait. I’m next. Assuming Skylar ever gets out.” He glared
at the door. “I don’t know why she even bothers. She always comes out looking
the same anyway.”

Even
though I tended to agree, I was too tired to care. I just wanted a shower and
some breakfast. I had two finals to face when I got to school, one of which was
American Lit, and if I had to face Miss Barkley before noon I needed my
strength.

I
had no idea why Skylar was so concerned with her appearance anyway. She was
just getting ready for graduation practice. It wasn’t as if there was any need
for her to look spectacular. I dreaded the thought of what she would be like on
Friday, the night of her graduation. I’d have to get up at the crack of dawn
just to take a shower before Skylar took over the bathroom.

Yawning,
I made my way down the hall to my parents’ door. I knocked and waited until Dad
said, “Come in.”

I
pushed the door open and found Dad sitting up in bed, reading the morning
paper. He looked odd sitting there in his pajamas. Even though three weeks had
passed, I still kept expecting to find him dressed in a suit. A tiny bit of the
scar on his chest peeked out above the top button of his pajama top. It was
slowly fading, but it still made me feel uncomfortable whenever I saw it
because it served as a permanent reminder of his brush with death.

Dad
had spent his first week home camped out on the couch, but after he started
physical therapy and worked up his strength, he managed to make it upstairs. It
was still often a slow journey up and down the stairs, and he still napped on
the couch most days because it hurt his chest climbing the stairs too often.

His
color, at least, had returned, and he no longer looked weak and frail. He was a
far cry from his previous strength, but it was his personality that seemed to
be the most modified.

“Your
father is even chattier than you these days,” Mom joked one evening after Dad
had retired early for the night.

It
was true. Every day since he’d been home, I’d had at least one real
conversation with Dad. He was even the one to initiate the conversation most of
the time, and the same went for Luke and Skylar.

At
first they’d seemed a bit weirded out by it, but they’d slowly embraced the
change. Even though it felt weird talking to them about day-to-day life, I
realized maybe I wasn’t alone in wanting our parents to pay more attention.
After all, even though parents are basically required to love us, it was nice
when they showed interest.

“Skylar’s
hogging the bathroom,” I explained to Dad. “Can I use your shower?”

“Sure,”
he smiled, sitting down his paper and pulling back the covers. “I was just
about to go down for breakfast anyway.”

“Thanks,
Dad,” I smiled, suppressing a yawn, as I crossed the room and went over to the
bathroom door.

The
warmth of the shower felt amazing, but I was sure Luke wouldn’t be pleased when
he wound up taking a lukewarm shower. Still, at this point, he’d just be lucky
to get into the bathroom at all. The bathroom door was still closed when I
passed it on my way to my room. I felt gross because I hadn’t brushed my teeth
yet, but it seemed I’d have to wait until after breakfast. Surely the bathroom
would be free by then.

Downstairs,
Skylar was at the table, ticking off a list of things she and Mom still needed
to get for her graduation party on Saturday. I rolled my eyes and dug into the
plate of bacon and eggs Mom had set out for me. It was usually one of my
favorites, but it tasted a bit off because it was egg substitute and turkey
bacon. It wasn’t bad; it just wasn’t as good as usual.

Mom
was slowly trying to ease us all into eating healthier. Dad needed it for his
heart, and she was concerned about the baby. None of us were particularly
thrilled with the change in diet. Skylar about flipped her shit when Mom told
her, “No more junk food. That means no more Ho Hos.”

“How
about Lean Pockets instead of Hot Pockets?” I tried, hopefully.

Mom
appraised me. “We’ll see.”

When
Luke came downstairs, he glared daggers at Skylar. She seemed oblivious as she
continued to rattle off a list of party décor. Dad just looked amused while Mom
seemed a little annoyed. I was sure that was due to stress. Besides work, she
was running Dad back and forth to therapy, sorting out paperwork so Dad would
get paid leave from work, and trying to get everything ready for Skylar’s graduation
party.

In
truth, we tried to help Mom as much as possible. I had kitchen duty, preparing
dinner and doing the clean up most nights, and Luke and Skylar would take Dad
to therapy on the nights when they didn’t have to work. Today, though, Skylar
just seemed so ridiculously excited about her graduation party she’d failed to
notice Mom’s stress.

Skylar
was talking about streamers when I went upstairs to brush my teeth, and when I
came back downstairs Luke was waiting for me by the door.