One Year of You and I

June 15th

 Sunday, June 15th, 2014

Luke

  Today marked the first Father's Day that my father wasn't alive. 

  My family celebrated it by sharing our favorite stories of my father and eating his favorite meal; ribs and sweet potato fries. They weren't Rosemary's fries, but I had to say, they were pretty damn amazing. 

  Though there did feel as if there was an empty piece in my life, I didn't feel sad. 

  I may not have been surrounded by everyone that I loved, yet I had people to love nonetheless, which was reason enough to be happy. 

Holly

  I flipped the last page and then grabbed at another book. 

  My mother had left for the hospital to visit (an unconscious) Olive about two hours ago. Since her departure, I had been rummaging through all of our storage closets and finding all the photo albums that she had created throughout the years. 

  I had grabbed hold of a photo album with bent pages, yellowing paper, and with a fading baby pink cover. In the middle of this cover was a title:

 Olive and Holly 

 April 17th, 1997

  Opening to the first page, I found pictures of our first sonogram. There were Olive and I;  two little beans at this point, made of grey and black blurs and strokes. The next page revealed sonograms of babies with little hands and upturned noses. My father had written Holly underneath the baby on the left and my mother had written Olive underneath the right baby. 

  Continuing to flip, I found pictures of Olive and I the moment we were placed on our shared tray. The details were blurry, proving that the photos had been taken with shaky hands. One baby was wrapped tightly in a yellow blanket, their eyes shut and their face a light pink. The other let its arms burst out from the purple blanket it had been wrapped in, its mouth wide open as she screamed at the top of her lungs. 

  The next photo revealed my parents laying next to each other on a hospital bed, each with a baby in their arms. My mother's face was flushed and her hair was matted to her sweaty forehead. Hours of labor and childbirth had caused for her to have beyond-exhausted eyes, yet they were so bright as she finally got to be with her daughters. My father looked just as tired, yet the smile on his face was incredible as he held his daughter up to his face. Their eyes did not look at the camera. They looked at each other. 

 The next that was displayed was a closeup of the two babies faces. They laid in a crib together; their eyes shut and their lips parted as they slept soundly. Their cheeks were chubby and seemed so soft. Their eyelashes were nearly nonexistent and painted with the single hair of a paintbrush. Their noses were puny raindrops. Their eyelids held sight of their veins, proving how delicate they were. 

  I stared at the picture, trying to differentiate the two babies and decide which was Olive and which was me.

  It was impossible. 

  Though they were fraternal twins, these sisters were identical at this moment. 

  The doorbell rang, the sound ringing throughout the house. Setting the book to the side, I stood up from the ground, dusted off my pants, and went to the front door. Opening it up wide, my breath stopped in my throat. 

  Coughing loudly, I rubbed at my eyes, unsure if I was seeing properly. When my vision had focused once again, I came to the conclusion that I wasn't mistaken. 

  "Dad?" I asked. 

  Oliver Hardison stood at my front steps, bouncing at the balls of his feet and fumbling nervously with his fingers. I looked at his face, taking in all of the details that I had forgotten over the past approximate-six months. I took notice of his laughter lines. Of the wrinkles forming at the corner of his eyes. His graying dirty-blond hair. I realized that I no longer had to crane my head in order to look him in the eye. I had grown to his incredible height. 

  "Holly, I miss you all so much," He let out. I had heard his voice over the phone, yet it couldn't compare to hearing it in reality for the first time in what felt like forever. "I heard what happened to Olive. Is she alright?" 

  "Mom's with her right now," I replied. "At the hospital." 

  "I needed to see you guys," He said. "Or at least just one of you." 

  His body shot forward and then his arms were around my shoulders, holding me tightly. At first I was tense, but soon I let myself relax and lean my head against him and wrapped my arms around him as well. 

  He was my father. 

  My blood was boiling, yet I couldn't deny that I was so pleased to finally be seeing him once again. 

  "Are you staying for awhile?" I asked, my voice quiet as I spoke against his shirt. 

  "I wish I could," He replied. "But I have to get back to working on the newspaper. I may be getting promoted due to the article I'm writing. I want to do all I can to help pay for Olive's surgeries, so I can't give up this chance." 

  "So you're going back to Oregon?" 

  "I'm sorry, but yes." 

  "Can I come?" 

TWO UPDATES IN ONE DAY WHOOPEE!