I know I haven't written in a long time but I hope you like the new chapter! Comment if you would like!
Speechless; not capable of being expressed in words
"Mace! Long time no see, huh?"
It was my Dad.
Here. After months of no calls, no emails, no nothing. After having to see my mom slowly break down until there was almost nothing left. After leaving us. After everything, he shows up here, smiling?
I was still standing there staring. Stella didn't seem to sense the tension. Instead she glanced out of the door and asked, "Is Mrs. Misa here too?"
I flinched at that one. My Dad raised his eyebrows at me and didn't answer. He's a pretty smart guy. I think he figured out that I hadn't exactly filled Stella in on anything.
"What are you doing here?" I said to distract from the unanswered question. My voice sounded more shocked then I meant it to. I meant for it to sound pissed and upset.
My Dad glanced at Stella before answering. "It's kind of a long story, do you think we could go talk somewhere?"
I stared at my Dad and then to Stella. She seemed to have figured out that something was a little off and was now giving me a questioning look. As much as I didn't want to see or talk to my Dad right now, I really didn't want to come clean to Stella.
"Sure. How about we go to the guesthouse out back." I answered quietly. Without waiting for a response I began making my way back through the house and outside to the pool house. I heard my Dad following behind and I was instantly reminded of the last time we talked…
I closed the door quietly as I walked into the house. This morning, before I left for school, my parents had been fighting. But now the house was eerily calm.
"Hello?" I yelled out. A moment later I heard a thumping down the stairs as my Dad came down. He was carrying a suitcase.
"Mace! You're home!" He said in a weird way. He said it like you would say it to someone you wished wasn't there. Like, 'Oh. You're here.'
"Yeah! What's with the suitcase?" I asked quietly. An uneasy feeling found its way into my stomach. My Dad goes on business trips frequently so him having a suitcase wasn't really out of the ordinary. But he hadn't mentioned it to me at all. And yesterday my mom had talked about all of us having dinner together tonight.
My Dad cast a quick glance upstairs before setting down his suitcase. He then walked towards me and put his arm around me. Slowly guiding me to the dining room.
"Have a seat." He instructed.
I sat down slowly. I felt like I was in the principles office or like he was about to punish me for something. But the look on my Dad's face wasn't anger or disappointment. It was a look of dread. As if he was the one that was scared to be here.
"I'm leaving." He whispered without looking into my eyes. There was a moment of silence.
"You said you wouldn't have anymore business trips for awhile." Even though I said it, I knew something else was happening. If it was just an unplanned business trip my mom would probably be walking around the house right now muttering about how inconvenient the trip was and how my Dad should find a new job. But she wasn't here. And everything was quiet.
"I'm moving out Macy." He stated, finally looking me in the eye.
I stiffened slightly. Though it came as a somewhat of a shock, this was something I could deal with. My dad had moved out for a weekend twice before after getting into big fights with my mom. She was sad the entire weekend but my Dad had come back both times with flowers and a promise to stay and work things out.
"Okay." I nodded slowly. My Dad looked at me cautiously. Clearly this wasn't the reaction he expected.
"Okay?" He repeated with confusion.
"I'll deal with it. But Dad, I really think its better if you just stay and work things out with mom. When you leave for the weekend it just makes her sad and me miserable." I said honestly. While I tried to say this as maturely as I could, my Dad was looking at me with pity. Like I was a child who didn't understand.
"Mace," he hesitated slightly, before becoming more resolute, "I'm moving out for good. You're mother and I are not going to be together anymore."
I waited for more. I waited for something to happen that would make what my Dad just said untrue. When my Dad just sat there waiting for a reaction I began to panic.
I could stand the fighting. And I could stand the days when my parents refused to talk to each other. But I couldn't stand the thought of my parents being apart. Physically apart. Living in two different houses. Becoming like my friend's divorced parents who never spoke to each other unless it's in a bitter tone talking about child support or what not. This could not be happening.
"Dad. Think about this. You guys can't just break up! There's counseling you can do! You can't just give up! You love Mom!" I exclaimed. Somehow I ended up standing. I felt panicked and afraid. But my Dad just sat there with this pitying look on his face. He slowly stood up shaking his head.
"There is someone else Mace."
With that one sentence I understood. I understood that this was really happening. I understood that I knew nothing anymore. And that everything was different.
In America, there is one divorce every 13 seconds. That's 6,646 divorces per day, and 46,523 divorces per week.
To me, that's 6,646 shattered families everyday. One family, forever broken, every 13 seconds. It seems impossible that thousands of children all over the country can feel the same pain I feel. The pain of knowing that your family is forever ripped at the seams. And that any attempt to fix it will be nothing but useless patch work.
I must have stood there for a few minutes because my father finally came over and hugged me tightly. We weren't really a hugging family. Somehow the hug made everything worse.
"I'll call in a few days," my Dad said quietly, "to see how your doing."
After pulling away my Dad gently wiped my tears away. I hadn't noticed I was crying.
My dad turned and made his way toward his suitcase. Without looking at me he grabbed it and began walking out the door.
"You're leaving us!" I yelled. Furious tears ran down my face. Anger and hurt overtook me. I stomped over to my Dad and looked him in the eyes. He looked sad but disconnected. As if he had just heard a sad story on the news but wasn't really affected by it. As if he hadn't just made this a broken home.
"You're leaving us." I said almost inaudibly. This time he really looked at me. He looked indecisive and confused. It seemed like for a second, he was reconsidering.
But then a honk came from outside. His head snapped the direction of the noise. He opened the door wider and outside was an idling car with a blonde in the front seat. She was one of my Dad's clients. And she seemed to be waiting for him. I quickly put the pieces together and began glaring at my Dad. A blonde Dad? Really? How cliché.
If this was a funny situation then I might have mentioned how unoriginal this whole situation was. But I had never found anything less funny in my life. The honk seemed to make my Dad remember what he was doing. In a very business like manner he grabbed his suitcase and patted me on the shoulder.
"Honey, I love you! And I'm not leaving you, I'm leaving your mother!" He said brightly. Like this was reassuring to me somehow.
I had no words. I was incapable of responding at that moment. Without a second glance my Dad strode out the door and to the waiting car. In less then a minute the car was gone. And I was left standing there looking out at an empty street.
I closed the door quickly, then turned and slid my back down it. I laughed humorlessly as I realized that I looked like one of those girls in the movies who slid down the door dramatically before sobbing. And I knew that I didn't want to be one of those girls.
To do that would make it so my Dad somehow won. To do that, to give my Dad power over my emotions, would be the ultimate defeat. And if there was one thing Macy Misa didn't do, it was lose.
"Grief does not change you, Hazel. It reveals you."
― John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
"It's a nice place they've got here." My Dad said pleasantly. This is always how my dad approaches serious conversations. First he begins by making an observation. Meaningless small talk that has no use but to let him begin the conversation.
Usually this is the part where someone would come in with a comment or a sign of agreement. But aside from not knowing what to say to my Dad, I didn't want to make this conversation easy for him. I stood silently as my Dad walked around appraising the guest house, hoping my non response would make him uncomfortable.
"You didn't tell me you'd be vacationing in Malibu this summer." My Dad began again. A bitter feeling arose in my chest.
"Sorry Dad. Between all of our letters and phone calls I must have forgotten to mention it."
At the sarcastic tone of my voice my Dad turned to face me. He had a sad gleam in his eye.
"I've been meaning to call, but I never quiet knew what to say." he admitted.
The note of regret in his voice did nothing to soften my anger.
"An apology would have been a good place to start."
My Dad nodded his head at that and closed his eyes. In a way he looked tired. The wrinkles around his eyes and his mournful expression made him look older then before.
"Mace," he said softly, "I don't want to discuss the past anymore. I came here because I want us to be a family. I miss you."
My anger melted slightly. And for a moment, I just felt like a little girl who missed her dad.
"I miss you too." I replied. My Dad smiled at that. It seemed to encourage him.
"I want to take you out tonight. I want you to….to meet someone."
Any warmth I felt for my Dad disappeared once again. I only had one guess about who this someone might be. It was the blonde. It had to be.
I thought about having fake Macy take this one. I thought about forgiving my Dad right on the spot. Not because I thought that anything he had done was okay, but because more then anything, I wanted my Dad back.
But it just wasn't that easy. And for once I felt like standing up to him and making him feel like hell for what he put me and my mom through these last few months. Before I could let him have it though, we were interrupted.
"Macyyyy?" Stella's voice sung. She came skipping into the guest house with a smile.
"I don't mean to interrupt but I was thinking that tonight would be the perfect time to have a little beginning of the summer feast! And since your Dad is here he can join in!" She giggled in excitement. As if this was the best idea since microwave popcorn.
But it wasn't. Having dinner with my estranged father and my longtime crush at the same table was not my idea of a good time.
"Actually Stell…" I began.
"That would be great. And I can even bring my guest with me." My Dad suggested. He smiled with excitement. He knew there was no way I could get out of this without admitting to Stella right then and there that my Dad had left my Mom. And I hated him for using that against me.
So like any other time when I don't know how to react or what to say, I let fake Macy take over.
"Sounds like a plan." I agreed with a slight smile. Inside I was more panicked then I had ever been before.
Whether I liked it or not, something big is going to happen tonight.
OOOOH whats going to happen at the dinner?
You'll have to stay tuned to find out!
