I Fall Apart

Nora

"That's awesome," I said.

"Your dad said you were having a hard time," he told me.

I sighed.  "Good news travels fast."

"I've just been really mad since my mom died," I explained.  "Plus I'm not that great of a kid anyway."

"I find that hard to believe," he said.  "You seem pretty cool to me."

"Dad and I butt heads a lot," I told him.  "He's too strict."

"Your dad wants what's best for you," he reminded me.  "Do you trust him?"

"Yeah," I said.

"So, maybe you should trust him that he's trying to get you on the right track."

It felt different coming from someone closer to my age.  He hadn't been a teenager that long ago.  He remembered what it was like.  Maybe I was being unreasonable.

"Were you angry when your dad died?" I asked.

"Hell yeah," he said.  "I was angry for a long time.  Got in trouble in school, mouthed off to my mom.  It takes a while to get through it.  You going to counseling?"

"Sometimes," I said.

"You should take advantage of that," he told me.  I nodded, feeling guilty that I was being such a brat.  A lot of parents may have given up on their kids if they'd acted like I have been, but Dad and Vanessa had always backed me up.  I didn't always like it, but I had to admit they always had my best interests at heart.

"Yeah," I said, stirring my ice cubes around.  The food came and I was still feeling guilty.  Dad was sitting across the table a few chairs down.  He caught my eye for a moment and gave me a wink.  I gave him a small smile.

After the afternoon auditions, Dad decided it was time to cook me something homemade.  Most of the time, that meant Mexican.  I sat watching MTV while he browned some ground beef and added sauce for some tacos.  We had lettuce, cheese, sour cream, and tomatoes, as well as some rice as a side.  It smelled glorious.  After several days of eating out, it was nice to have a home-cooked meal.

"So what did you think of the guys?" He asked, stirring the beef.

"They're cool," I said.

"You seemed to hit it off with Jonathan," he observed.

"Yeah, I like him," I admitted.  "Did you know his dad died when he was a kid?"

"No, I didn't," Dad answered.  "Did you talk about that?"

"Uh-huh," I said.  I turned off the TV and wandered over to the mini-kitchen, leaning my elbows on the counter as he cooked.  I was quiet for a minute, the guilt stirring inside me.

"What's on your mind?" He asked.  I shrugged.  Admitting I was wrong was hard.

"I know there's something going on in that mind of yours," he said.  "Spill."

"I don't know," I began, "I guess I just feel kind of bad about how I've been acting.  Jonathan said when his dad died when he was ten, he had to help take care of his little brothers and sisters.  And he still managed to get a college degree."

"He's a hard worker," Dad agreed as he tossed a few tortillas in the microwave.

"You and Vanessa have been trying to help me.  Sending me to counseling, trying to talk to me.  And I've just been a brat."

"Like I said before, you're not a brat," he told me.

"Yeah, I am," I muttered, tearing up.  "I've been terrible."

Dad looked at me and I hid my eyes with my face.  I felt hands on my upper arms and I was being pulled into a hug.  I started crying and he shooshed me gently.

"It's okay," he told me, rubbing my back, just letting me cry.  He just held me for a couple minutes as I bawled.  I felt so pathetic.  I acted so tough and rebellious, and now I was crying like a little kid.

"This is exactly the kind of break through I was hoping we'd have," he told me when I started to calm down.  I pulled back and he kissed my head.  "You're realizing me and V are trying to help you."

I nodded with teary eyes.  "I'm sorry I pushed you," I told him.  I should have apologized a long time ago, but I'd been angry.

He hugged me again.  "Thank you, sweetheart.  I know you've had a lot of anger."

I felt so thankful for my dad at that moment.  I didn't want to let go of this hug.  He just held me, resting his chin on the top of my head.  Later, after dinner, we watched TV together and I snuggled up right next to him.  I knew that our relationship wasn't suddenly perfect.  We would still fight sometimes, but I knew deep in my heart he wanted what was best for me.

I fell asleep on the couch and he carried me to my bed.  Even though I was fifteen, I still loved to get tucked in.  And I think he liked it too.