Chapter 12: Giving Thanks

Chapter Cast:
Darren, Male, 53

- Narrator, retired, father of Gwen and Victoria (Vic)

- 5’11, beige skin, 195lbs, cropped greying brown hair
Audrey, Female, 16

- High school senior, daughter of Duncan and Theresa

- 5’9, pale skin, 140lbs, light-green eyes, straight auburn hair over her shoulders
Gwen, Female, 15-16

- High school sophomore, daughter of Darren, sister of Victoria

- 5’6, beige skin, 135lbs, shoulder-length wavy black hair
Victoria (Vic), Female, 14

- High school freshman, daughter of Darren, sister of Gwen

- 5’4, beige skin, 120lbs, wavy neck-length light-brown hair
Theresa, Female, mid-50s

- Mother of Audrey, daughter of Joyce and Herman, widow

- 5’7, pale skin, 150lbs, shoulder-length auburn hair

On the weekend before school was to start back, I woke and stretched and heard the sounds of someone swimming in the pool. I felt a small knot form in my stomach, certain I’d find that Audrey had joined one or both of my daughters. I slipped on a robe and stepped into the kitchen to make coffee, certainly needing to wake up before dealing with that moment.

Coffee made, I sipped it quickly after dashing in a bit of half-and-half. I felt the buzz kick in and was more alert by the time I stepped out onto the deck.

“Morning, Dad,” Gwen told me as she paused in swimming laps. She was alone in the pool.

“Morning. I, uh, I figured you had company?”

“Audrey?” She asked, her voice just a bit softer, “Uh ... no. I sent her a text to come over but she said she was busy this morning.”

“Busy...”

“Yeah...”

“Ah, well ... hungry?” I said, relieved though admittedly slightly disappointed as well that Audrey had not joined my daughter in the pool.

“Yep.”

“I’ll pull something together then. Seen your sister yet today?”

Gwen shook her head.

I set about making us a breakfast of fresh pineapple and bananas, greek yogurt and granola, and some prepackaged mini-blueberry muffins. While I was getting plates ready, Vic came out wearing her pajamas, her hair a mess and her expression sleepy. “Morning, Sweetheart,” I told her.

“Hey,” Vic replied. There was a big splash in the pool and Vic asked, “Audrey here?”

I shook my head, “No, that’s your sister.”

“Oh.”

I poured my youngest daughter a glass of orange juice and she sat on a stool at the kitchen counter. As she drank it, she watched me cutting fruit a while before she asked, “Can I invite her to breakfast?”

I paused only a second before continuing the cut. I’d decided by that point that, whatever difficulties I might have with Audrey being near me, my daughters were her friends, and Audrey was a damn good influence on them. I’d already seen the impact with Gwen’s newfound maturity and Vic’s determination to learn how to play softball. They deserved to have their friend over, and I couldn’t selfishly deny them even as it would be a bit like poking an old wound in me from time to time. “Sure, Hon.”

Vic pulled her phone from a pocket and quickly pounded out the message. A beep signaled the response. “Um ... She’s not sure it’s okay...”

“Because of me?”

“I think so...”

“Tell her...” I swallowed, and resumed, “tell her I’d love for her to join her friends for breakfast.”

Vic typed out the message and a moment later the answer was returned. “Alright, she’ll be over in a couple of minutes.”

My daughter slid off her stool and headed for the bathroom. I continued to make breakfast even as my throat tightened just a bit. I hadn’t seen Audrey since our chance meeting in the deli. I hoped we were both more composed than we’d been that day.

The doorbell rang and I glanced towards the hall bathroom. Vic was still inside, and Gwen, I knew, was still swimming laps. I sat down my knife and the rest of the uncut pineapple and went to the door. Opening it, I put on my best friendly mask, smiling through the confusing mix of emotions racing through my head in that moment. “Good morning, Audrey.”

Beautiful as always, even with her hair a bit matted and an old t-shirt covering her upper half, Audrey mirrored my expression. I knew it, too, was a mask of sorts, but I suppose that’s how things would have to be for us until we could get to a place where we were just friends. Her eyes, though ... Her eyes still said something more. I wondered if she saw the truth in mine. “Morning, Darren.”

We stood a moment, silent, before I said, “Oh, uh, come in. Vic’s in the bathroom. Gwen’s in the pool. I’m just getting breakfast together.”

“Can I help?” Audrey asked as she followed me into the kitchen.

“Um, yeah,” I replied, “maybe get those muffins warmed up a bit in the toaster oven and get out the butter? That would be a big help. Thanks.”

Audrey set about the task as we both ignored all the elephants in the room. I knew it was the only way ‘just friends’ was going to happen. We couldn’t stop to talk about our feelings every time we saw each other. We couldn’t keep telling each other how hard this was, how much we wanted something different. That would just drag things out beyond any ability to successfully manage our emotions. It was there. We both knew what was trying to surface. And we both knew voicing it constantly would only make it worse.

So, we went about our work silently. Vic appeared in the hall and said, “Hey, Audrey!” The girls hugged briefly.

Audrey told her, “Wow, you look great, Vic! So tan now!”

“Thanks, you too!”

I tuned out the rest of the conversation as best I could. There was something about Vic’s growing boobs and Audrey’s muscular arms and I did my best to ignore it all completely.

“Vic, go fetch your sister, okay?” I called over my shoulder when breakfast was almost ready.

“I’ll go,” Audrey offered before shuffling out of the kitchen.

I turned just in time to see her leave, not missing the way her adorable backside, even in a pair of gym shorts, still drew me to watch every movement. I shuddered and brought myself back under control.

Vic watched me a moment, then said, “Will it get any easier for you?”

I looked down at the plates of food in front of me on the counter. “I hope so...”

“Sorry, Dad...”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Vic ... It just takes time. Odds are ... one day you’ll have your heart broken and it will suck. I hope that never happens, but the odds are good it will. Few things hurt worse.”

“I know,” Vic assured me, “but ... you still see her around ... in our house ... That must be even harder.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it...”

“Okay...”

Audrey returned more slowly than she’d left. Her expression gave me the sense that she’d heard at least part of the conversation, but she said nothing about it. “Gwen’s coming.”

We silently sat the plates and bowls around the table and sat down. Gwen came in moments later, still wearing her one-piece swimsuit but covered with a thick, plush towel. “Mmm, looks good. I’m starving!”

It was a little easier than expected, to eat dinner with Audrey and my daughters. They kept up a steady conversation about sports and dancing and Audrey’s plans after graduation. I said little and just let the moment pass by with as little sadness as possible. I could see in Audrey’s expressions, the few times she caught my eye, that it was tough for her, too, but not like the day in the deli. Having Gwen and Vic to buffer our time together made a big difference.

School started a couple of days later and I’d managed to push through a few visits from Audrey. She stayed around my daughters, talking and swimming and helping Vic practice softball swings in the yard. I read and lounged and did nothing with myself.

I was becoming bored, honestly. During the day, my girls were gone and there was little to do with my time but what I’d been doing since I retired. I needed a hobby and badly. But nothing really came to mind. I loved reading. That really was my hobby. But it left me isolated more often than was good for me. Sure, for a long time, that isolation felt necessary to deal with losing Audrey. But I was starting to miss other people, and the loneliness I was feeling was only made worse because seeking out Audrey was not an option.

Weeks passed rather quickly. I started going for long walks during the day, stopping for coffee or a soft taco from one of the regular food trucks near my house. I went to movies alone. I almost went to an Astros game, but that was too close a connection to Audrey.

The longing for her did get better even though I saw her several times each week when she came over to swim or work with Vic. I understood her own classes were going well and that she was ready to start the serious baseball season around the winter holidays.

And then the bomb dropped. The one I’d been dreading all those months. The one which I knew I was selfish to feel so personally.

“She’s got a boyfriend,” Vic told me softly as we walked in from our one-on-one dinner that night, her sister and Audrey swimming in the pool, “she texted me yesterday.”

“Ah,” I said, deflated even though I tried really hard to stop that sinking feeling.

“Sorry, Dad.”

“It’s okay, Vic. I’m happy for her,” I lied. I wanted to be happy for Audrey. Instead, all I felt was betrayal and jealousy. I tried not to let it show. “I’m sure he’s a nice kid.”

Vic shrugged and plopped down on the couch, looking out at the pool. “I suppose. He’s coming to her house on Sunday to meet Audrey’s grandparents.”

“Ah,” I repeated.

“I wish you’d find a girlfriend, Dad. You deserve to be happy.”

I sat next to her on the couch and offered a weary smile. “Thanks. Just not that interested right now.”

“But,” she said, leaning against my shoulder, “I know you’re lonely...”

“I am,” I replied softly. “I’m just not really over Audrey, I guess.”

As I spoke her name, the teen rose up out of the pool. The sleek, one-piece suit was tight and, thankfully, muted the blossoming curves of Audrey’s body. I had to look away, regardless.

“Well, I wish you would try, Dad,” Vic said, holding my hand. “Promise me you’ll try.”

“I promise, Vic.”

Vic made the softball team despite her inexperience and she started to grow physically. My youngest daughter was starting to look more like a young woman, and Gwen, well, she was a woman in all but name. Together, they continued to surprise me, maturing emotionally, fighting much less, pouting less often, being more helpful. Gwen got her car, and her birth control, though as far as I knew, she wasn’t seriously dating anyone. She’d gone out on a few dates, but I hadn’t heard of anyone steady. Vic would have let me know if Gwen was getting serious.

I knew that didn’t mean she wasn’t having sex, but I liked to believe that my eldest daughter was being selective in who she took to bed and waiting for the right guy. I knew it was sexist. I wouldn’t have thought that had I had a son, but it was instinctive. I tried not to hold her back when she wanted to do something more mature, and I surely wasn’t going to flip my lid if Gwen decided to have sex. That’s why I wanted her to take birth control in the first place.

My daughters, at least, buoyed me during a period of months where everything else felt muted and grey.

I avoided meeting or even seeing Audrey’s boyfriend, a seventeen-year old named Travis. Such a Houston name. Travis. I suppose I hated Travis, though I really knew nothing other than his name and that he was dating Audrey. Probably fucking her.

I hated the jealousy, but it did subside as the weeks went by. I wanted Audrey to be happy. What we had was over and in the past. The only way to go was away from those weeks, not towards them. Slowly, I let that slide further back in my head.

I really did hope Audrey was happy.

She turned sixteen in November. I only remembered that because, at some point, I’d set that date in my phone’s calendar, and I woke on the morning of the 12th to an alert about her birthday.

The weeks since school started had gone by so fast that I hadn’t even made plans yet for Thanksgiving or winter break. We usually went out of town for a long weekend for the former, just the three of us, but this year, Gwen unexpectedly won a regional spot in a dance final to be held the Saturday after the holiday, so it seemed we had no choice but to stay home. The final was in Houston, so it made no sense to bother making other plans.

And Christmas was a bit of a wildcard for us. We always went somewhere for a week. Sometimes we visited my sister in Aruba, sometimes we went to Europe or Canada. I liked to expose my daughters to other cultures. Before Audrey, I’d been looking into a trip to Japan.

But I’d forgotten all of that and as November set to close into December, I didn’t really have any sense of how to get out of my rut.

Even though I’d promised my daughter that I’d try to find a girlfriend, I hadn’t bothered. Even when she offered to help me set up a profile on a dating site, I stalled until it was forgotten. I didn’t have it in me anymore. I was getting older. My body was still alright, but mentally, I felt like an old man. Audrey had made me feel young again. Losing her brought those years back with interest.

I almost never masturbated, sliding back into the same mindset I’d had before Audrey. I rarely noticed a woman as attractive. I gave that up again. One more piece of me to lose on the slow road to my eventual death. I had morbid thoughts from time to time, but my daughters being around kept me grounded. I don’t know what I’d have done without them, and I dreaded the spare years ahead when they’d be old enough to move out and leave me all alone.

It was a few days before Thanksgiving when a daytime knock on the front door roused me from a nap on the couch. I opened it to find myself in Joyce’s greeting hug before I could say a word.

“So glad you are home, Darren,” the woman said, “how have you been doing? You’ve been scarce lately.”

“I’m alright, Joyce, thanks,” I replied. “My girls are keeping me busy.”

“Oh, tell me about it. We have one of our own over there now, too.”

I never understood how Joyce could act like nothing had happened between me and Audrey. She never seemed to see the twist of pain in my eye at the mere mention of her granddaughter’s name. It’s one of the reasons I often didn’t answer her calls or when she knocked. It felt really tone deaf.

“I remember,” I said evenly.

“Listen, the reason I’m over is that I wanted to invite the three of you to Thanksgiving dinner with us. We’re putting out a big spread, inviting some folks. My daughter is flying in tomorrow to see Audrey and spent a couple of weeks with us. I’m sure you’d like to see her!”

I felt very torn, yet, the answer slid from my lips without much hesitation. “Sure, Joyce, sure. Thanks. I’d like that. I’ll let the girls know. What can I bring?”

“Not a thing. We’ll probably have about twenty people over. You’ll like them, I promise. Nice folks we know. Travis will be leading us in grace this year.”

Travis

God I hated Travis.

“That’s, uh ... great, Joyce.”

“He’s such a nice boy. Have you met him yet?”

I shook my head, honestly growing a bit angry at her obliviousness.

“Oh, well, you will on Thursday, then. Such a nice boy.”

“Anything else, Joyce?” I said curtly.

“Not a thing. I’ll have my daughter stop by to say hi when she gets in. I’m sure she’ll want to see you.”

I closed the door when she finally turned to leave.

Theresa did stop by the day before Thanksgiving. It was a bittersweet moment. We hugged and drank coffee, talking about her life in Japan and how she missed Audrey so much. She, much more than her mother, could tell that Audrey was still a tough subject for me to deal with.

“Sorry things didn’t work out with you and her,” she said sympathetically. “You’ll always be a special part of her heart.”

“I know. Thanks. It’s been very hard...”

“Give it time.”

“I have ... I’m not sure it gets better any faster.”

It was a shock to feel Theresa’s hand on my thigh. “Darren ... I’m lonely, too.”

“Uh ... I ... I can’t do this, Theresa.” I moved her hand away and stood up. “I ... You’re Audrey’s mother ... I can’t do that...”

“I’m sorry, Darren,” she said in a rush, “I didn’t mean any harm! I just thought ... we could be kind to each other ... for just a little while...”

I shook my head. “No. No ... I can’t. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

Theresa looked down and appeared to be on the edge of tears.

“Look ... It just wouldn’t be right,” I told her. “After Audrey and I ... I just don’t think that’s okay for us.”

“I know ... You just ... you seem so sad, Darren. I know what’s that’s like. I lost my husband. Lost my daughter because of my job. I’m stressed out and lonely and I miss the touch of someone who cares about me.”

“I do care about you, Theresa. I do. But ... I can’t be with you ... like that.”

“I know ... I shouldn’t have done that,” she said quietly.

“It’s okay,” I told her, relaxing a bit and sitting back down. “We’re both just ... in odd places. I wish things were different.”

“Do you?” Theresa asked softly. “Would you go back and not make the same choices?”

I started to answer that, of course I’d change my choices, but I knew before I spoke that wasn’t true. I wouldn’t want to go through life never having loved, and been loved by, Audrey. Whatever happened afterwards, that had been an experience I would always pick, even with the heartbreak. Audrey’s love, even for just a spare few weeks, was always worth it.

When I opened my mouth again, the truth came out, “I’d do it all again, Theresa. Every thing. I’d go through all these hard months again if it meant I could spend a few more weeks with Audrey. I’d choose her every time.”

Theresa looked at me, smiled, and cried. “I know you would.”