Weekend. No school, no curricular activities, a lot of procrastination though free time and family day.
My parents we always busy ever since I was young. I remember being sent to a nursery while Mom and Dad worked and if it weren't because of Happy to pick me up, I'd be staying at the nursery overnights. But they'd always make up some time on weekend to spend the day with me. I'd be lying if there weren't times when they had to cancel our family day. I used to be angry at them, but as I grew up, the last minute cancelling our family day is normal to me and I understand their works and their status for their job so when we couldn't hang out together, I'd go out with Happy.
Often, when my parents were free and when we'd get out hang out for the whole day, Mom thinks we should be home early so that I'd have time to finish my homework, but Dad being Dad, he never took it seriously. We would be home past midnight, sometimes, either with Mom or without Mom.
We tried to continue the routine, make it a tradition to have family time on weekends. It was hard the first few weeks after Dad died. Mom worked harder although she didn't have to. With Mom's status to the company, with Dad's money, with whatever Dad's left for us, were actually more then enough for us now. I tried telling her that. She heard me, but quickly dismissed it and said that I don't understand what it feels like.
But, if Morgan and I were lucky, Mom would take a one-day leave to bring us picnic where Mom, Dad and I used to have picnic many months ago. It's always the picnic. Well, like I said, we tried. Truth is, neither Mom nor me were ready to have family time on weekends after Dad died. Everything we do keeps bringing us back to the memory of Dad.
"It's not fair for Morgan," Happy once told me while we were sitting together at the dock, fishing-but-not-really-fishing. Mom and Morgan were out for grocery shopping at a nearby supermarket so we had the cabin and the lake to ourselves without worrying anyone eavesdropping. "She doesn't really understand what's actually happening. She keeps asking when will Tony come home."
"She asks me the same question every night when I tuck her to sleep," I agreed. "But I don't really have the answer, Hap. Does she even understand the word "dead" or "died"? Does she know that those words mean that the person isn't going to come back?"
I was frustrated. I wanted to cry in front of Happy, but I have no tears left. I cried every night alone in my room after tucking Morgan to sleep. I cried at school in the washroom because everybody's talking about Dad at school, let it be positive or negative thing they said about Dad. People don't care over the fact that Stark's daughter is studying in a small state. They just talk. I cried every time I saw the garage where Dad used to work in. Though the cabin looked lonely, but I know Dad loved it so much because he had the whole acres for him to build his working garage as big as he dreamed of. The Mansion or the Tower can't compete with the Cabin.
It's been a while since I walked down the memory lane. It hurts badly by mere looking at the garage, but this time I tried to ignore the resistance. Maybe, my sadness will be gone after I paid a visit on Dad's possession even without Dad.
I put on my black sweater and slipped on my shoes. Grabbing a small carton of milk, I quickly exited the Cabin and snuck into the garage, not wanting to attract Morgan's attention. Truth is, I've never really been into the garage. Not once. Dad built the garage when I wasn't "home". Morgan, unlike me, likes techs and she knows every little thing about technologies just like Dad, but no matter how much she had begged me to show her Dad's garage, I couldn't do it. Maybe I'm selfish because I can't see the garage myself without seeing ghost of Dad working.
I unlock the thick and heavy chain on the garage door. Surprisingly, Dad had a low budget, modest, and non-updated garage door that people would mistakenly think it's just another store full of unused house items. I think that's intentional. Dad once told me that he was tired of people hacking into his labs back in the day so he didn't try hard to install a high-tech security system on his garage door. However, you can't think Dad will make it easy inside.
Just as I stepped inside the garage, a neon blue light appeared as a second door in front of me. I almost crossed them, and if I did, I'd wake the entire animals that live together with us in the woods. I know the alarm will go off and that means Morgan's attention.
The neon wall showed a weird-looking password that, at first, I was confused if I'm really in Dad's working garage. It looks like–
"A jigsaw puzzle!" someone squeaked excitedly beside me. I turned to see Morgan watching the neon wall with "jigsaw puzzle" like her favourite toy. "Hippopotamus!" Morgan solved.
"How do you–"
"H-I-P-P-O-P-O-T-A-M-U-S."
Just like that, the neon wall disappeared and Morgan cheered beside me. We entered deeper into the garage but before I could take the third step, another neon wall appeared.
"What is it this time..." I said uninterestingly. Clearly, Dad was inspired by Morgan when he built these stuffs. Really. Before Morgan, Dad put a calculator-like device on his glass wall, and it only appeared to the surface by hand gesture. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to key-in the password. And the access was numerical!
A picture of a jungle, full with greens appeared.
Great.
But Morgan is here. Of course she knows that to do. Dad built the garage with her. I was in another world five years ago. Right, how can I forget that. That's why I've never really entered the garage before this because I don't know how to pull these questions off. I would look stupid if I stood there all by myself, trying to solve the puzzle.
I watched Morgan tapped on a small plant. How did she eveb see that one in the corner, I wonder. As soon as the plant gets bigger on the neon wall, Morgan confidently says, "Eucalyptus."
Wait...is that even–
Morgan begins spelling the plant's name and gives their scientific name and a little description of the plant. As I stood and listened to her – although I stopped listening right after she said "It is also known as" – I looked at other trees and plants in the picture. I felt so proud that, at least, I recognised one: Banana tree.
"Ah, that was easy," Morgan beamed. I rolled my eyes on her and followed her entering Dad's garage.
Morgan was quick to find a spot, that I assumed she usually sat on while accompanying Dad. She doesn't looked awkward and foreign in the garage. It's like her second home. The one who's amazed is me because as I looked around the garage, despite that the walls inside are made of bulletproof metal – which means the garage has two layers of wall – I noticed things that I knew Dad hated to store in his lab.
First of, there are rainbow unicorn figurines everwhere on Dad's equipment shelves. Some of them are looking at each other like they're a couple and they're kissing. I saw Barbie and Ken holding hands. There are soldiers in a troup pointing at Dad desk. I approached one shelf and pulled a drawer. Inside the drawer, there were kitchen toys.
"Has Dad always let you play in his garage?" I asked Morgan as she drew on a blueprint on the big, lightening table. "Wait, Dad even let you draw on his blueprint?"
Morgan smiled sheepishly. "No. He will get mad when I do it, but sometimes, he will tear this part and paste it there." Morgan pointed towards a direction, a wall, where there are billions of Morgan's drawing pasted there. All of the drawings are ugly, really. Too large eyes, too small lips, too big head, too long hands and legs. No hips. No too cute waist. Every creature on her drawings are either lean, masked, bulky, heroic, flying. If she intends to draw superheroes like the Avengers, the only creature that I recognise were Ironman and Hulk. Red-gold and green. The drawings are like a time-frame since Dad noted the date and time and day when it was done/pasted.
"Do you draw?" Morgan asked as she continued with whatever she was doing.
My fingertips touched every one of the drawings on the wall and unintentionally stopped at Ironman. "I did," I answered Morgan. "But Dad never let me–"
"Girls?" I heard a familiar voice calling us at the front. I turned to see Mom smiling sadly at me, but when she turned to Morgan, she faked a big smile. "Are you ready to go shopping?"
Morgan stopped her activity, got off the chair and ran to Mom. "Yeah! But can I get an ice-cream on the way there?"
"Um, how about we shop first then we get an ice-cream? That is if you behave."
That's actually unnecessary to say, though, because Morgan never not behave when we go out. She's a nice kid. Never made any scene. Even when she's being mischievous in the house, she never really done anything that would get her into a big trouble. And everyone in the house protects her all the time so she never gets a single scratch.
"But I want an ice-cream now."
"You don't want your shirt dirty while shopping, do you?"
"No," Morgan replied sadly. "Dad says a princess is always clean so I need to be clean."
Mom and I exchanged a look, but I quickly looked away.
"Atta girl." Mom smiled at Morgan. "Wait us in the car. I have a little bit stuffs to be done."
Morgan skipped happily as she exited the garage. How I wish I could be that happy to go shopping and then an ice-cream. Life was so easy and simple back then, even though I was always in trouble. As I watched Morgan disappeared around the corner, Mom approached me. Her click-clocking heels echoed in the garage. She always wears formally even when we go out on a casually family day. Including the heels.
"Are you okay, sweetie?" Mom asked softly. She never really hide her sad smile with me. We've been through a lot together to hide our grief.
"Dad never let me draw in his lab," I answered, pointing at Morgan's hall of fame. "How can I be okay?"
"I know you think he loves Morgan more than you, Terrie," Mom started, "but it's you who changed him. Not entirely Morgan."
I sighed. Not entirely believing Mom, but a part of me understood what she's trying to tell me. Mom, Dad and I had gone through a lot. Mom and I had been there since the start of Ironman. We were there when Dad was lost and there were no way of contact. I was the first person to know when Dad was recruited for the Avengers. Not to mention that fight between him and Captain Rogers. Then, that split. And sometimes, I wonder–
"No. Don't you ever think he died because you didn't do enough!" Mom raised her voice at me.
My eyes watered. Not that I'm goot at anything. "I don't know, Mom. If I were there, he wouldn't–"
"Terrie, he didn't die so you could mourn over his death and blame yourself. He died so you could live. He died so I could see you again. 5 years is long, Terrie. I'm sorry if we ever gave up on you. We just didn't know what to do."
I sniffled and blinked dry my eyes out. I'm lost for words. It's not the first time Mom apologised for things that happened. What she thinks I felt was true. And maybe I haven't forgiven my parents and Morgan yet. Or maybe, it's just because I missed Dad.
"C'mon. Morgan's waiting."
Mom lead me out, but it took me a few more minutes to leave the garage. It's ironic to me how a person can change that fast. Dad had never set a password that only I can access to the system. But he let Morgan.