Small Town Sumner's

Chapter Three: Midnight Talks

When Dad and Aunt Jodi were born, Gramps thought it'd be a good idea to take them to the old family farm once in a while to teach them how teal the land and other country life stuff you couldn't learn in town, Gramps wasn't from Baldwin, he was from the outskirts of it, and he kept the family land and goes out there once in a while.

It's a ten minute drive from Baldwin and one of my favorite places to be. Sometimes Gramps would let me tag along for the night and stay in the old barn. I'd lay on top of a stack of hay and look at the starry night sky, it was beautiful.

"One day you'll have this, it'll all be yours." He'd say

"Can we come here all the time?" little me turned practically squealing

"Whenever Arienelle,"

"REALLY gramps? Promise? PROMISE?????" little me whined

He chuckled "Promise."

The memory was interrupted by; hard, heavy footsteps, Dad's.

"Hey gorgeous" Dad comes in gifting me with his light-goofy smile

"Hey dad, what's up?" I sit myself up facing him as he takes a seat in the rollie chair next to my desk

"Nothing much, works been getting easier" Dad goes on talking about his encounters today and how he'd seen a strange guy dancing on the free-way giving out toilet paper, as strange as that sounded to me, it was something dumb, and I needed something dumb, I giggled. Conversations like this with Dad happen a lot but not lately, so I took advantage of the little time I'd get with him.

Thirty seconds, but it felt like thirty years of complete silence, Dad was twirling around in the chair looking around my room, there wasn't much to look at beside the: gold medal from sophomore year, a couple of polaroid's on the closet door nothing special.

Besides my dresser that had some lotions and a small jewelry box on it, for some reason I'd forgotten something, I couldn't put my finger on it but I felt as if I forgetting something.

"Who's the boy in that picture with you?"

Bingo!

I realized too late, facing the closet to see what he was talking about, the picture showed a two teenagers, a boy on the right, a girl on the left, in a small martial arts gym, soaking in hard work, smiling like a couple of idiots.

"His name is Derek" making a failed attempt of clearing my throat

"Why didn't you tell me about him?"

Hurt.

I could hear it in his voice, making it harder for me to face him.

"He isn't important, that's why" I try to sound neutral and calm.

"The way you looked at that picture said otherwise" He pointed out.

I was pained: emotionally, I was strained: mentally, I beat up: physically.

Altogether I was tired, just, really tired.

"He was important, until I saw his true colors. . ." I didn't want to lie anymore to my Dad that I was fine or that I just felt like doing something stupid, I was tired and he could see that, funny how it takes me almost getting by butt handed to me by seventeen plastic Barbie dolls to realize maybe I should just tell my parents, starting with my Dad who'd I kept out of the loop for so long.

Dad's a patient man, but with little precious time on his hand, I can't waste it, I'm literally contradicting myself right now gosh I'm an idiot. Dad doesn't have time for this, yet here I am giving him all of it.