A thousand nights

XXII

Dad had been gone for almost a week now.

He had texted me yesterday saying that the two weeks of bliss in Paris had surprisingly become a month long vacation because dad's employer had decided - last minute - to give him a more ''needed'' rest.

And as a consequence the house was oddly quiet.

I had grown used to dad's recurrent groans and exclamations as he watched the TV, at the beeping of the microwave as he heated a box of mac & cheese, at the laughter and wishpered voices of him and Lauren as they stayed up till late in the living room.

It was so quiet now.

Not even when dad used to get drunk at the most inconsistent hours of the day and ended up loosing consciousness in his sleep that the house was this still, nor when he spent days in a row staring at the floor without acknowledging anything around him. In fact, this silence echoed the quietness of that bright hot summer day of July so many years ago, when all seemed smeared in red.

A sudden knock startled me. I got up from my seat on the floor of my bedroom and run downstairs. When I opened the door Luke's broad and perfect smile greeted me.

'Morning Park' he smiled. I stepped aside so that he could enter in, only then I noticed Ali's small frame appearing from behind her dad.

'Brother Park!' she jumped excitedly and hugged my legs.

'Hey little fella' I smiled.

They settled themselves on one of the couches; Ali crosse legged examines my face curiously.

Luke was wearing his glasses today, he looked relaxed, his burgundy knitted sweater hugged him loosely, his dirty blond hair left to its messy natural curls.
We talked about nothing in particular, he helped me bring a tray with food for us all as I turned on the TV for Ali who wanted to watch Winnie the pooh, which I later came to know that was her favourite cartoon.

'How do you manage work and looking after three children?' I asked suddenly when we came bakc to the kitchen.

I had noticed that he often looked tired but didn't make it obvious, in fact he seemed to hide behind the perfect smiles that he always flashed.

'I don't' he laughed ' I just try to concentrate on my children the most'

'Can I ask you a personal question, always if you don't mind of curse' I added quickly as his brows furred.

'Go on'

'How does it feel like to be a dad?' I asked. His brows rose and a genuine smile appeared on his lips. It seemed like my question had aroused all kind of memories within him.

'The best job I could ever dream to have' he said in a breath. 'You know, my wife would be able to tell you in a better way how parenthood  is but I'll try my best' his laugh kept startling me, it was so innocent and kind, it surprised me that I had never noticed it before.

'More often than you can imagine you get frustrated at your kids because sometimes it's just too much and you might end up shouting at them, especially when they're little, but the moment you look at them you just want to hold them tight and give them your world, anything'

He wasn't looking at me as he spoke.

His hands emphasised his words and his eyes glazed directly in front of him, he seemed to be imagining past dilemmas caused by the little creatures he called children.

'When they get hurt you pick them up and help them, when they ask you for toys and snacks you just overload them with it an then you curse yourself for spoiling them' he laughed again, I nodded noticing that I was smiling too.