Dad left us a little money before he took off, but it wasn’t enough to last very long. Most of it was spent on bills, and the little bit that was left, went toward counseling for all the damage he caused. He thought he was helping, doing the right thing even, but in the end, he hurt us more than he ever thought possible.
He tried his best to be a good parent after mom died, and he was for a while, but as the days passed, we all knew it wasn’t enough. Kate, Wyatt, and I watched as grief consumed our father to the point of self-destruction. In order to survive, he had to escape the only town he’s ever lived in. We knew it was coming, he knew it was the only way, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.
“I can’t do it anymore, Kinny,” he says, with a voice hoarse from crying.
Before today, I never saw a grown man fall to pieces the way my father was, right before my eyes. The man who has always been the heart and soul of our family was crumbling—so grief-stricken, he stopped living the life he used to love.
“Without your mother, I have nothing. I am nothing.”
“You have me, Dad. I love you.”
“I know you do, Kinny girl, but you remind me of her so much. Everywhere I look, everything I see, reminds me of your mother. It’s like living in hell.”
“What about your job? Your friends?”
“I was let go yesterday. I can’t even concentrate—my work has been slipping, and then I got so behind, I stopped trying to catch up.”
“But you were working twelve-hour days after the funeral.”
“There’s no excuse, Kinny. I wasn’t holding up my end of the bargain, just like I’m not here. I can’t blame them for firing me. I would have fired me, too. I can’t fault my kids for hating me either.”
“So, that’s it? You’re going to leave me? I lost mom, and now I’m losing you, too.” It’s not a question, but rather verbal confirmation that when this conversation is over, he’ll be walking out of my life.
“I need to get my head on straight. I can’t do it anymore.”
I don’t want to live this way, with a distant parent who would rather be anywhere than where he is, but I could never up and leave my family—my responsibility. “When will you be back? Do Kate and Wyatt know?”
He nods his head. “Couple months. There’s a program in Florida Dr. Murphy is sending me to.”
“And I’m supposed to stay with Kate until then? Wyatt, too?”
He nods his head. “Kate will be waiting for the both of you. She moved upstairs to a bigger apartment. There’s enough room for the three of you, so take everything you need, clear your room out.”
“We’re losing the house?” I ask, in complete shock. This is the only home I’ve ever lived in. My bedroom has been painted the same pale pink color since I was born.
“I can’t afford the rent without a job. When I get back, we’ll move into a new house.”
“Okay,” I whisper. He’s coming back. Maybe he hasn’t given up on this life. It’s the only thing that keeps me moving forward. I’ll stay with my big sister for a little while and then we’ll move into a new house and make new memories. It won’t be so bad.
Though losing the memories in this house is the last piece of mom. Once we leave, it will be like she’s gone forever—for good. When I was low, I would picture her in the kitchen, making her famous brownies, or the time she had to patch a hole in the wall because we were playing baseball in the house on a rainy day, like she told us not to.
It brings tears to my eyes, and I don’t want to cry. I’m tired—just plain tired of my world being ripped away from me.
“Don’t be sad, Kinsley, please. I need you to be strong.”
“I don’t want to move, but I want you to get better. I love you.”
He closes his eyes, absorbing my words like he doesn’t deserve them. But he does—even if I’ve been the parent of the house since mom passed—filling her role the best I can. I don’t think less of him for wanting to get help. He’s made sure I’ve been seeing a counselor all while he’s sat silently, wishing he was anywhere but here—his kids a constant reminder of what he lost.
I walk to his chair, leaning down to hug the man I’ve looked up to all my life. His strength has vanished, his soul’s depleted, and his heart’s been left in pieces. But he’s alive—even if he’s not really living anymore. “I love you, Dad.”
“I love you, Kinny. So much.”
Dad left that morning, and I haven’t heard from him since. I lie, he called once from a pay phone in Chicago. I’ve never heard of a flight from Pennsylvania to Florida via Chicago. I didn’t even know why he was there, but I could tell he was crying, nonetheless.
The moment he told me to clean out my room, and to take everything with me, should have been my first clue that he wasn’t coming back. But I bought his lies about not being able to afford the house, and his plans to go to Florida for counseling. I never once questioned why he had to go nearly a thousand miles away to get his head on straight because if that was what it took to get my father back then I wanted him in the best place possible. I wanted him to have a chance to be happy—even if I had to be sad.
For a long time, I excused the lack of phone calls and letters, chalking it up to the restrictions in therapy. He should be focused on himself, not me. When days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and there was still no word, I knew I’d never get my promises. He ran away from his responsibilities, and he has no intention of ever coming back.
Being known around town as the abandoned teenager hasn’t done my reputation any favors. Most people look at me with pity, Mandi even questioning how I can stand to look at myself in the mirror. I won’t lie and say I’ve never considered ending it—I had some very dark days after my mom passed away, and even more after dad left. Turns out being abandoned hurts just as much as death.
Even Wyatt’s gotten into fights defending me. He’s heard the rumors, threatening anyone who said another word. He can’t win every battle with his fists, and he knows that, but for a long time, it was our only defense—beat them down with fists before they can beat us down with their words.
Now that I’ve lost my personal body guard, my sister and Carson are all I have. It may not be a perfect living arrangement, but at only twenty-three, Kate’s usually fair. All she asks is that I go to school when I’m supposed to, and to work as much as I can when I’m not.
“Hey, earth to Kinsley,” Becca says, as she taps my arm to get my attention.
“Sorry. What’d you say?”
“You were really spaced out there for a few minutes. You’re sure everything’s okay at home?”
“I’m sure.”
“I wish you would come live with me. My parents wouldn’t care, they even said so.”
She yanks on her locker door a few times before banging on the top corner of the metal door. “This stupid thing sticks like the one I had last year. I can’t catch a break.” She gives it one more swift kick with her shoe before it pops opens.
“I can’t stay with you, Becca. You’re all I have. If I’m living with you, it’ll put a strain on our friendship, and we’d end up hating each other. Plus, Kate needs me. She was forced into that bigger apartment because of me, I can’t stick her with the bills and take off, too.” Only my dad gets to do that, apparently.