In a heartbeat, everything inside me was different. As though someone had thrown a switch. Suddenly, all the guilt I’d been carrying was gone. All the glassy fear, the held breath, gone. In its place was thunder building. A rumble of anger. A match striking. It felt like all I needed to do was open my mouth, and flames would burst out. I looked over and found I was pulling on the curtain beside me. Tugging at it, hard. In fact, it was ripping at the seam.

I let go and let the curtain fall. Then I opened the back door. In bare feet and pajamas, I padded out after him, on cracked concrete and dead leaves. I nearly cried out when I stepped on an acorn cap. I stumbled to the door, and before I could lose my nerve, I flung it open.

But when I looked inside, Dad wasn’t painting. He was just sitting there, on the blue tarp, crisscross applesauce, like a kid. He was slumped forward. His head was in his hands. And he was crying. Silently, but shaking, with big heaving sobs.

He had to know I was there. The door had made a big bang when I opened it, but he didn’t look up. He just sat there, crying, alone. Stoop shouldered. Broken. And just like that, my thunder was gone. My flames fizzled.

Dad.

There was a part of me that wanted to go and sit with him, wanted to pat his back, or give him a hug. There was a part of me that wanted to cry too, wanted to ask him the questions I’d been thinking about all day, all year. A part of me that could remember how he used to be, and hoped that if I said the right words, maybe he could be that dad again.

But I don’t know what might have happened if I’d stepped forward. I’ll never know. Because there he was, ignoring me completely, pretending I hadn’t opened the door. So I decided to pretend too. I turned and left, walked back out into the driveway. Where I stepped on the same dumb acorn cap, all over again.

Or maybe it was a different acorn cap. It didn’t really matter.

Like Any Day

The next morning, I woke up hollow. Hungry feeling. Inside myself, I couldn’t find the storm anymore, the thunder. But the tight cold feeling was gone too, the guilt. I felt strangely loose. Ready. And I knew exactly what needed to happen next. Sleep had cleared my head, so I grabbed a granola bar and headed to the farm. To Jasper.