XVII
When I woke up on Sunday, I immediately realized how close I was to being able to go home and get away from all the extra drama. It was a bittersweet feeling, I guess; I was, of course, excited to leave and finally rid myself of this place forever, but I also felt as though it could've been different. Well, of course it could've been different, in a way. I could have had a father who actually cared about me and wanted to spend time with me. But, I didn't, so that was just something I had to work with, as much as I really did wish it was different.
I had told myself countless times that I needed to forget about absolutely everything regarding my dad, Vegas, and even my parent's divorce in general. I never could, though, and as much as I hated myself for it, I knew why. Even though I would always say that I didn't, I cared a lot about everything; not just my relationship with both my parents, but absolutely everything in my life. So, unfortunately, this was no different. I couldn't just forget or ignore things; they always resonated with me or just never left my mind. Never would I be able to filter bad things out of my mind, and you never know, that could have its benefits.
Although I did have the weird desire not to leave, I was, of course, also happy to be doing so. I didn't even feel that guilty for my almost pure joy at the prospect of leaving the city. Well, maybe a little guilty when I really thought about it, because I would like to think I'm not totally heartless. But, I was keeping myself from really thinking about it, because I just wanted to get out of there with no more fighting, awkwardness, or anything of the like.
"But Catherine, can't you just please take me to the airport?" I begged for what was probably the hundredth time in the past hour. We were driving to the lab, both to drop me off at the door of my dad's office and for her to start her seven o'clock shift. I had all of my luggage with me; we had stopped at my dad's apartment on my way, so she really could have just made another stop at the airport. I had even offered to walk part of the way.
"Morgan, as much as I know you'd love that, your dad would kill me." She had tried her completely rational reasoning oh so many times, but I was pretty persistent. Her patience was astounding; anyone else would have probably ditched me in the middle of nowhere by now.
"I guarantee he wouldn't. He'd appreciate you sparing us the awkward drive to the airport, and the even worse goodbye. It's going to be bad," I explained dramatically, covering my face with my hands to emphasize how painful it would be for me.
"You're so dramatic," she laughed. "I understand what you're saying, but I'd feel bad."
"Don't feel bad. You would be saving both of us. Not even just me, I swear. It's going to be awful for everyone; even the people driving somewhat near us. It will be worse than a horror movie," I elaborated, still believing I could convince her. I was pretty much right in all of my attempts to have my way, but deep down, I understood where she was coming from. In the long run, not even seeing my dad before I left would only be an added issue to deal with later. If my mom ever found out, she would probably kill me for not even trying to talk to him after that last phone call at Catherine's house. You would think she of all people would understand.
"Sorry, Morgan, it's not happening. As I've said, I see where you're coming from, but I can't just drop you off there. I'm sorry," she apologized, and I did kind of feel bad for my repeated asking.
"It's fine. I get it," I replied. "I'll survive. I'm used to it."
"That's the spirit!" Catherine laughed. I internally wished for the billionth time that I could have changed the situation, but I did realize I couldn't, so that was that.
At the lab, we said our goodbyes, as she had to head off to a 4-19, which made no sense to me at the time. How did you go to a number? I was sad to have to say goodbye to her, but it's not like there would be no form of communication once I was back in LA. She reminded me again that I could always call whenever I wanted, and to keep the emails up. It was nice to know that someone was interested in my life, or at least cared enough to pretend to be interested.
Making the all too short walk down the hall to my dad's office, I promised to myself that I would try and be nice, no matter how much it pained me. I could keep up the act of perfectly lovely daughter for a half hour or so, right? I had never been successful in the past, I don't think, but it was worth a try.
"Hey," I said, sitting down in the same chair that I had sat in when it had all started a couple days ago.
"Hey, M, ready to go?" my dad asked cheerfully enough. He had probably made a similar promise to himself that I had just moments earlier.
"Yeah," I agreed, heading for the door right away. It was just such a good thing that I didn't have to stay in there too long.
"How was your time with Catherine?" he asked as he started the car. I prayed for the trip to the airport to be short. After wishing that, though, there was probably going to be some traffic issue or something.
"It was awesome! We went shopping, and she showed me some of the cool hotels on the Strip. This place is so cool. It was really fun," I replied happily. That was the right thing to do, I think. At least he'd maybe feel a bit better about his decision to leave me with someone else.
"I'm glad," he said, and I frowned. That was it? I guess I should have been used to it, but still.
"Work must have been pretty busy," I commented, trying to keep the conversation moving before it died and never came back.
"Yeah, it was. Sorry about that," he offered, and I shrugged.
"It's fine. I had a good time anyway," I said, not completely trying to make him feel bad.
"I'm happy I can at least take you to the airport," he said. I smiled a little, trying to conceal it. After spending the last few hours trying to convince Catherine to keep me out of this situation, he said that. I should've felt bad, but it was just the slightest bit humorous.
"Yeah, you must have been at work forever, so at least it's a break," I said, almost trying to sound slightly concerned for his well-being.
"I was. Went home for a couple hours in between shifts though," my dad replied, but I bet he didn't mean to say that. I was happy that he didn't decide to pick me up for those couple hours, but I was just a tiny bit hurt.
"Oh." The good flow of conversation that had been occurring stopped there, but I didn't plan on fixing it this time. It was his turn to pick it up after telling me that brief piece of news. I could have just been looking for something to be mad about, I always was, and since I probably was, that vocalized fact was there. I was upset about it, but not enough to make a huge deal of it. It just made me feel less motivated to keep being the reasonably okay daughter I had been being.
"So… Are you going back to school tomorrow, or did you convince your mom to let you stay home?" he said, probably trying to make some sort of lighthearted conversation.
"She's letting me stay home," I replied proudly. It hadn't taken a lot of convincing; especially since I had been placed on a pedestal ever since I had somewhat consoled her after that argument, but it still had taken a bit of effort.
"I should have known. You've always been good at that," he said with a bit of a laugh, probably recalling some memory of when I was younger that I would never remember even if I wanted to.
"It's a useful quality," I said happily. The communication continued from there; basically just slightly disjointed small talk, but at least not some big fight. That's what I had been expecting, honestly, and that's what the track record suggested.
"M, about Friday…" he started, and I shook my head immediately, not wanting to go there.
"I don't want to talk about it," I said simply. I really, really didn't, so I shouldn't have had to.
"I know you don't. But I think we should," he tried again, and I looked out the window, avoiding eye contact as always.
"No," I said quietly, hoping the airport would magically appear in front of us. We weren't that far away, but even a minute was going to feel like an eternity.
"What you said… I think it's worth a discussion of some sort, don't you? I think we both need to understand what happened," he explained. I sighed. Why couldn't we have just ignored the issue like we had been?
"What is there to discuss?" I paused. "Seriously, we can just leave it. We both know what I said." God, I was obnoxious. No wonder there were so many issues all the time; it really did go both ways sometimes. Not all the time, definitely not all the time, but it occasionally did, and that was a major source of the problem.
"Why don't you just take responsibility for what you said, Morgan?" he asked as we made the final turn for the airport. I relished in the major feeling of relief I felt when I realized that.
"Who said I wasn't? I just said that I knew what I said. I'm recognizing it. What else do you want me to do?" I asked, mostly rhetorically, as I really didn't want some lecture on how I was supposed to "take more responsibility" or something.
"You could explain yourself. Why you blew everything out of proportion and all, like you always do." I gasped, but tried to hide it. I shouldn't have been criticized for blowing things out of proportion when sometimes doing so was the only thing that got me any attention from my dad. Yeah, my words weren't my best decision, but it's not like I said them for no reason.
"I do not!" I exclaimed, partly knowing I was fibbing a little bit. "This is ridiculous. I should never have agreed to come here in the first place." The last part was said a bit quieter; I wasn't sure if I really wanted to start that conversation or not.
Nobody said a word after that, because we both heard my last words, and since he had just pulled into the airport parking lot there wasn't much point in continuing the argument. I got my seatbelt off as if it was burning my entire torso, and opened the door.
"Do you need help taking stuff in?" my dad asked, and I looked back at him.
"No. Bye," I said quickly, about to head to the trunk where my suitcase was sitting.
"Bye, M," he said tiredly. "See you soon, maybe." I looked back at him again.
"Last time I was here I said I was never coming back. Then, I decided to put that behind me. I don't know why I did that," I said, closing the door. I heard the driver's side door open as I went to the trunk, and I sighed.
"Come on, M, you don't mean that. You can come back, and we'll actually work something out," he said, standing a few feet from me as I got my suitcase.
"The same thing happens every time. I always know what's going to happen now, so why waste everyone's time by flying out here?" I replied, desperate to just get on the plane and back to LA.
"I know you're upset. We'll talk later. Call me when you get back, okay?" I laughed a little; like that was going to happen.
"Sure," I said, managing only a bit of sarcasm in my tone. "Bye."
"Bye, M," he replied as I turned for the entrance for departures. It had been quite a visit, to say the least.