Crazy but Sweet, Sweet but Crazy

40: of being in one piece

"You feeling dizzy? Or sick?"

With Michael and Jessica's concerned faces looming over me, a lie instinctively kicked in.

"Oh, no. Just a bit tired. A lot of things happened." I added a laugh at this point, hoping it didn't sound like a croak.

"If you want to talk- or you want something to eat- we'll be outside." Jessica smiled.

"And- darling?" Michael cleared his throat, and ruffled my hair. "Thank you for your courage. To stand up for our family. I didn't have the courage. But you made the world listen."

Perhaps I'd wanted to hear something like this from Michael.

Instead of words of caution, of telling me to stay away from Elliot, or to take my hands off the whole matter.

"He's a frightening young man, just like his father."

I'd felt like this a long time ago, when I used to come back home with an A for my test.

"Darling, I'm so proud of you. Whatever alphabet's on your report card."

And maybe I had wanted something like this, for a long time without realizing.

A ruffle of my hair, a pat on my shoulder, a reassuring smile that everything was going to be all right. A dad.

I was glad the lights had been switched off. Michael and Jessica would've been able to tell right away that my eyes were welling up.

"No problem, dad."

"So don't think about the outcome. It's just the way the world works. You've tried your best." Michael squeezed my shoulder.

His voice was cheery. I couldn't swallow.

What had happened during the past three days? Tried my best? Outcome?

"Yes, don't think about it. Come downstairs if you need something to eat. Sonia's been cooking for you the moment you got home."

Jessica kissed my forehead, and gently nudged the chuckling Michael out of the room.

Before she left my room and closed the door behind her, Jessica gestured to my phone. "By the way, it's been repaired."

What's been repaired?

As soon as the sound of their footsteps grew fainter, I flipped on the bedside lights again, and pulled out my phone.

It wasn't just that my phone settings were wonky. Three days had actually passed.

I scrolled through my phone directory, feeling dazed, unreal.

Four missed calls from Bianca. Three missed calls from Ester. Three missed calls from Noah. Five missed calls from Ian. Two missed calls from Jessica.

And seventeen missed calls, from Elliot.

They were all calls from on the day Joseph came to my house with his car.

All these missed calls from Elliot, something from Michael about how I had fun with others, and the completely missing memory about the past three days. Just how had I spent the past three days?

Clearing my prickly throat, I reached out for the glass of water Jessica had put by my bedside- and then, stopped.

Water.  

Glancing at me, but not quite meeting my eye, Joseph wordlessly offered a bottle of mineral water. I smiled a little, opening the bottle. "Thanks."

What I'd construed to be Joseph Chavez's shyness and trepidation about handing me the evidence- not meeting my eye, keeping quiet about what exactly was the evidence he wanted to show me.