Remember Savannah

#5 Hello Mom and Dad

"Hello," answered my mom on the phone.

"Hey, mom. Guess what? I accepted a transfer and I'm moving back home in a week."

"You're moving back home? Are you OK honey?" She was a bit concerned as if she could see inside me.

"I'm fine mom. I'm getting a fifteen percent raise. Also, would I be able to move back in with you guys?"

"Of course, dear."

My parents were there to help me get everything in a U-Haul. Yes, moving was somewhat of an ordeal, but I pushed through. Once we got home, my parents wanted to take me to dinner. We ended up at Texas Road House.

"So, honey," began my mom who already knew what she wanted without looking at the menu. "We never got a chance to talk to you at the funeral. How have you been holding up?"

I usually took forever to look at a menu. "It's been rough and lonely. In all honesty, I'm really glad I got the transfer offer."

"I'll never forget when the police showed up to our house," announced my dad. "It was the worst day of my life having to hear I had a dead daughter." He put down his menu as he made his choice.

Mom gave a great sigh. "It's been rough for all of us. You should see Steve. He's been a mess. Thankfully, he's been coming to church with us the last couple Sundays, but you know you can always talk to us."

"I never got much of a chance to talk to Steve at the funeral. I wish I had."

"You can see him when we go to church tomorrow."

Immediately, my face blushed and leading me to fall a tad bit under the table. "Tomorrow?"

"What's wrong with tomorrow?" asked my dad.

"It's hard to say. I guess the funeral brought up some feelings."

"You have a crush on him!" my mom declared. My face was hidden by my hand. "I knew it all along. Ever since that stalker, you always acted differently when he was around."

"I guess I do, but I feel terrible about that. I mean Savannah is dead and all and they had a kid together."

"Honey, there is nothing wrong with just being friends." Her hand laid on my hand. "You don't have to feel guilty."

"You sound like the preacher at the funeral. He told me that Steve needed a friend right now."

"And he's right. Steve needs a friend." My dad nodded in agreement.

The conversation began to move away from Steve. After about an hour or so, we finished our meal, paid the bill, and headed out the door. When we got home, my dad stayed outside and smoked a cigarette.

"I thought he quit smoking," I asked my mom while she checked Facebook.

"He did, but he started smoking again about a year ago."

"And you're not going to do anything about it?"

"What am I going to do? I spent years having the talk with him until he finally quit. If he wants to quit, he'll quit."

I continued to watch my father finish his cigarette. As night approached I watched a movie with my parents in our living room. Mom had fallen asleep halfway through, she even slept through my dad's coughing fits he was having every few minutes. As I took in my dad's appearance I noticed that he had not aged as well as my mom had.

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Are her parents right? Does it sound like Steve needs a friend?

What do you think about Margo's Dad smoking?