Him & I

21

"Are you sad?" I ask, arms wrapping around myself. Hello Kitty glittery embroider on the purple top I'm wearing scratches the insides of my arms as I do so. And I stay this way even when he chuckles like I just asked the world's most ridiculous question when it's really more of the world's most obvious. Because he is.

"I'm not."

"Except you are."

He looks at me. Then waves me over to his side of the island, smiling a little when I start rounding a corner. "Maybe a little."

When I get beside his stool, I once again wrap my arms around myself since it's either that or let them stay limp at my sides. Or hold onto the table, or hug him.

"I'm sorry." He says, his voice nearly too quiet.

"It's not sorry. It's not about an apology-"

"I know. It's about me stepping up on my responsibilities-"

"It's not about that either." I correct, moving my elbow out of his grip before resuming the position I'd been in. "It's about you. Are you okay? 'Cause we don't need a dad who's fulfilling all righteousness, being present, but a dad who's okay. Who's fine."

After a little thought that comes from looking out the sun-bathed window screen, I add, "And, well yeah, probably need a dad that's present too."

Soft feet shuffling from behind the door take our eyes towards it, a few seconds and a few glances between us and the door, Toby walks in. Sleepy, grumpy and body drowned in an oversized overall moon-themed pyjamas I thought he claimed he was too old to wear now.

His eyes are sleepy when they find me, but as soon as it spots dad, it grows three times it's size as he immediately looks awake. "Dad!"

Dad's 'yes' is turned into a choked laugh as Toby races over to hug him, struggling to climb on him to deepen the hug. And when he's done, like it's not obvious- anyway, I don't blame him. "You're home?!"

"Looks like I am."

"Dad lives here, Tobias."

"Yeah, but I never see him."

I notice the light in dad's eyes flinch a little at Toby's words and I'm almost satisfied. Almost.

"Are you going to be around now?"

"Toby, don't-"

"Yes." He looks to me, making my brother do the same and I've got this look on my face that i'm sure can only be described as confusion even though it's more of an inner turmoil between wanting this to be true, and knowing it won't be.

"As a matter of fact," He continues, "I was thinking of bringing back Basketball Saturday."

Basketball saturday, well thanks to our lack of creativity at the time of creation, is in the name. Basketball. On saturday.

It's a tradition of ours that, unlike the rest, didn't slowly die down since dad made it a priority to be at least around on saturdays. It kind of just abruptly stopped. There wasn't an explanation and we never really asked any questions. I think Toby did once and dad told him he'd be around the next saturday. As anyone can guess, he wasn't. So, we just let it go.

"What?! Are you-" Toby grabs dad's face in his small hands, eyes getting wider than I would've thought is humanly possible. I move back a little to give them more space. "That's amazing."

"Is it?"

"It is!"

"Okay, but dad." They again both turn to me, all smiles that are rarely on and happy and jolly and- did I just say jolly? "Basketball Saturday is on Saturdays." They look to each other then nod. "Saturday is.. today."