The blanket was always left in a big heap after she was done. My father liked that about her.
It drove my mom crazy though, having to clean up after their fort-making adventures. My sister Daisy would rip the blanket “roof” out from under the pillows and books that held it in place, throw it to the ground and jump on it. Then she’d have giggle fits as my father pretended he was going to tickle her. When he got close, she’d run, and he’d chase after her.
Mom would come in, look at the mess and scream.
”Joe! Not again. Get back here and make her clean up.”
But he never did. He never made my sister do anything. Unlike me. I guess being ten years older was reason enough for his criticism and cruel words. I was a stranger to him, and he punished me for it. It didn’t matter that the reason he didn’t know me was his fault.
He was never home in my formative years. Mom said he spent so much time away because he was working hard to take care of us. But if he cared so much, why did he act this way? Why did Mom still have to work to feed us?
He was planning a pet movie contest. I heard him tell my sister, after one of their tickle fights. I can't even explain the feeling of dread that came over me then. It was another one of his money-making schemes, and I knew Mom knew nothing about it.
And I knew she'd be pissed when she found out. I think that was the tenth or twelfth idea he'd tried since he'd been "let go." Supposedly he was a stay at home Dad now. Since he started watching Daisy Mom had finished her nursing degree and was making decent money. But I don't think he could stand it, the idea of his wife being the provider.
So he came up with these ideas and they always failed. They were all shams to make enough money, so Mom didn't have to work - but I think they were just attempts to soothe his ego. Because I don't' think he cared how hard Mom worked. I know he didn't care how hard I worked doing all the housework he never got around to.
He spent all of his time with Daisy or with his friends at the bar. Sometimes both which really made Mom mad. I think it was Daisy who gave him the pet movie idea. She made him sit and watch funny animal videos for hours it seemed. At times I wished I could hate her. But she's my sister, and it wasn't her fault.
He continued in this way until he discovered that he could not doubt one thing. At least that's what I think changed. He realized we all loved Daisy. How much he loved her had always been obvious. But I don't think he ever stopped to realize how much Mom and I cared for her too. Not until I was leaving for college.
My bags were packed, I had my bus ticket, and we were getting in the car to go to the bus station. Daisy, now almost ten, hadn't left my side all morning. She peppered me with questions about school, what I'd packed, what sort of bed I'd sleep in, and finally how often we would see each other.
Mom it seems had many of the same questions but couldn't get a word in. Dad was driving, keeping his thoughts to himself. I was grateful for that.
Then suddenly we were at the bus station. With my bags on the sidewalk next to me, I hugged Mom goodbye, pleading with her not to cry.
Then I turned to Daisy who launched herself into my arms. I held her tightly, fighting back my own tears. And that's when I saw Dad's face. I'd never seen that look before. It was soft and almost kind.
When I finally got Daisy to let go, I reached for my bag and looked at him to say goodbye. He was looking at Daisy, and his eyes were welling up. As I started to say the words, his eyes met mine. Before I knew it, he was hugging me and whispering "I'm sorry."
This was my first weekend freewrite. What came out wasn't anything like what I'd expected to write - but that's what makes it fun!
If you want to try, go to this post and follow the directions: @mariannewest/weekend-freewrite-5-12-2018-part-1-the-first-sentence
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