Chapter Twenty-Eight:
My body is jolted awake by the sound of someone knocking softly, but repeatedly on the door. I look beside me to see Tommy still fast asleep, completely oblivious to the knocking. As I shift my attention back to the door, and the sound coming from the other side of it, I notice the time on the alarm clock and I almost fall out of the bed.
It's 9:00. Oh, shit.
Dad's an early riser. He could be awake right now for all I know.
I lift Tommy's arm from around my waist and jump out of bed, holding the sheet loosely around me, approaching the door. I can't just answer it considering I'm not supposed to be here and I can't ask who's at the door in case it's my dad.
"Tommy, it's Kwest," I hear whispered from the other side. I breathe a sigh of relief and open the door enough for Kwest to file in.
Kwest rushes in and as he turns to look at me, he instantly slaps his hands over his eyes. I look down and notice that the sheet I'm holding up has been sliding down, and subsequently, Kwest almost gained full exposure to part of me that Tommy would kill him for seeing.
"Help me find my pyjamas," I say anxiously to Kwest. I begin to frantically search for my lost PJs on one side of the bed as Kwest searches the other side.
I glance over to see him still partially covering his eyes, just in case I reveal anything he shouldn't see. Poor guy, he'd have both Sadie and Tommy on him if that happened. I would laugh at the hilarity of the situation we're in if I wasn't in such a panic.
Major distress sets in as my search turns up empty. My heart begins to race with a mix of adrenaline, panic and frustration. I have to get back to my own bedroom before my dad leaves his room. Or maybe he's already downstairs. That's why I need my damn pyjamas. If my dad sees me in the hall in just a sheet, he's going to know something's going on. Pyjamas look ten times less suspicious than nakedness under a sheet.
"Do you know where my dad is? Is he still sleeping?" I ask Kwest.
"I'm not sure. I just rushed here as quickly as I could when I realized the time," Kwest says, glancing in my direction, before remembering my attire and quickly spinning his head back around, averting his eyes. I notice a slight blush creep on to his cheeks. The sheet is sliding down and I pull it up again as much as I can manage while still frantically looking around the room.
Where the hell are my pyjamas?
I shove Tommy roughly. "Wake up," I say loudly in his ear.
His eyes shoot open and his body jerks up into a sitting position. "What's wrong?" he asks sleepily. His gaze moves around the room and he immediately notices Kwest, acknowledging him with a nod. And I see the instant when the impropriety of my mostly naked body in Kwest's presence dawns on him. He grabs his boxers which are conveniently lying on the floor right beside the bed, and puts them on under the cover of the duvet he's still lying under. He stands up, blocking Kwest's view of my body. They're best friends and all, but I can see in his eyes that my naked body is still the last thing he wants Kwest to see.
"I can't find my pyjamas," I say, stating what he should have figured out by now.
"I assume this is yours," Kwest says, stretching out his arm towards me and holding up my crumpled tank top between his thumb and forefinger. He's looking at the complete opposite side of the room from where Tommy and I are. I can tell the poor guy is so uncomfortable with this situation.
Tommy grabs it from him and hands it to me, covering me as I put it over my head.
But my shorts are nowhere to be found. How can pyjama shorts just disappear??
Oh, fuck it. As my heart begins to beat even faster from the panic, I decide that I'm going to have to make a run for it down the hall.
I stand still for a moment with the sheet wrapped around my bottom half and watch with amusement as Tommy and Kwest both continue ripping the room apart.
"Okay, stop." I say suddenly and both of their heads shoot up and look towards me. Kwest looks considerably less flustered now that I have a tank top covering my chest. "It's late and I can't wait anymore. I'm gonna run for it with the sheet," I say, grasping the sheet tighter around me for emphasis.
Tommy walks to the door and opens it a crack so he can peeks out. "The coast is clear," he whispers. "I don't hear or see any movement from downstairs or your dad's room."
I join him by the door, kissing his cheek quickly. "Wish me luck," I whisper before scooting out the door.
The hallway suddenly seems endless. As I run for the bedroom door I'm holding the rumpled sheet as tightly as I can around my waist and trying to be careful that I don't trip. The floor is cold and I wince every time I hear creaking under my feet.
I open the door and literally fall in, closing it as quietly as I can behind me. I stand leaning my back against the door, catching my breath from my dash down the hall. Within a minute, from my position just inside the room I hear my dad's door open and his melodic whistling fills the silence of the hallway as he begins to descend the stairs.
"That was close," I comment breathlessly to Sadie who is trying not to laugh at the sight of me.
"Lose something?" she asks, gesturing towards the sheet.
"Shut up," I say, glaring at her as I push myself off the door to head towards the bathroom. And the last thing I hear before I close the bathroom door is her laughter pervading the room.
Within half an hour, I walk down the stairs feeling refreshed and relaxed, having recovered from the close call. We really do have to be more careful because that was ridiculous. I still wonder where those damn pyjama shorts got to.
Boisterous laughter fills the kitchen as I enter, and I glance around at all the smiling faces in puzzlement.
"Care to share?" I ask, looking at Tommy who is wiping tears of laughter from his eyes.
"Your dad was just filling us in on some of yours and Sadie's finest moments," he replies, his amusement beaming from his eyes.
I turn my head towards Sadie, and I feel my cheeks turning red from embarrassment. "Oh wonderful."
Tommy approaches, placing his arm around my shoulders. "My favourite is your grade one solo performance at the Christmas concert. I can't believe you ran screaming from the stage when you were supposed to sing." He's still smirking and chuckling softly.
"She didn't just run off the stage," my dad adds between his bites of toast. "She ran down the side stairs and along the aisle between the seats in the gymnasium. So absolutely every parent got a good look at her screaming and running frantically away."
"Ha ha," I say sarcastically. "I was nervous, okay?" I can't help but smile at my own embarrassing childhood memory. I have to admit it must have looked really funny.
"Yep. Right in the middle of a solemn, beautiful version of "O Holy Night," my daughter, the most talented singer with the most important solo of the song, runs screaming off the stage. I remember laughing so hard I couldn't even see," dad says, clearly enjoying the chance to share this embarrassing moment from my past.
I smile at his happiness. "Well, I'm glad you're all getting such a kick out of it," I say, looking around at everyone. I notice that Kwest still hasn't looked me straight in the eyes yet. Poor guy.
"Anyway," I say, changing the subject, "I was thinking and I wanted you ask you something, Daddy. I don't know how you feel about this city or what you want to do. But… what do you think about going home?"
He looks serious, and I'm instantly sorry that I mentioned it when everyone was having such a good time. Then he smiles widely and I release my breath.
"Actually, I was going to mention it to everyone. I was thinking about this same thing last night. And I decided that I want to go back to Toronto. I want to see my hometown again." His voice lowers considerably, "And I want to die and be buried there."
Tommy squeezes my shoulders supportively, knowing the effect any direct mention of his death has on me. "Alright. Then that's what where we'll go," I say. "Since our house sold, you won't be able to go back there. But we'll find you a nice place. A comfy condo with all the amenities and luxuries a person could ever want," I say, my mind already thinking of such a place. One that I found when I was doing my own apartment hunting.
"Sounds wonderful," he says. "But how are you possibly going to find a place like that on such short notice."
"I know who can help."
"Who?" Tommy asks, looking at me puzzled.
"Mark."
