HIM
truth soon.Gladys mentions details of the story that I already knew about between Jason and Luke. She talks about how they got in a huge fight causing my dad and Ernie to break it up. The battle was mainly over that floozy Bridget, Gladys says, but partly because my dad made him his head mechanic. She went on to say that Ernie was not upset about it as they collectively decided to give Luke the position. He did show up to work more than Jason and would work whenever they needed him to, even if it was seven days a week.
Gladys said that they didn't kick him out of Jason's house because technically they own the property. My dad helped ease the tension by building Luke, a living area behind the pole barn. Jason never used it anyway, and it's also where my dad stored some of his stuff he wasn't currently working on at home or the shop.
Chapter Eight
I give Gladys a tight squeeze before getting out of her car. I was glad she did not react like Ernie and Jason. I felt relaxed with her in the car as well as on the drive home.
"Would you like us to pick you up before we head over to the lawyer's tomorrow?" she asks.
"Yes, that would be great! Thank you!" I reply.
We say our goodbyes, and I head into my father's house. I set my purse on the chair in the entryway and head for the living room. I sit down on the couch and flick on the TV. While flipping through the channels for something good to watch, I fall asleep.
I'm walking into the barn to bring my dad a plate of fresh-baked cookies and a glass of milk. He is bent over under the hood of his 1967 Ford Ranchero. He is talking to someone, and as I get closer, I can see who it is. It's Luke. They are working together on my father's engine.
"Dad, I brought you some milk and cookies!" I say excitedly. He doesn't reply and continues working and talking to Luke.
"What are you doing here?" Luke asks.
I open my eyes and sit up frantically. I look around to see that it's dark out now and that I was merely dreaming, again. Why am I dreaming about my dad and Luke? Why won't my dad look at me in them? I need to find out why Luke has my dad's Ranchero. These are all burning questions that I want answers to. I know I shouldn't be taking these dreams to heart because they're just that, dreams. Regardless, this one did shake me just like my previous dream; my father would not talk to me in that one either. He ignored me. I wonder if this is some sort of sign.
I check the time on my phone, and it's 8 p.m. Wow, I must have slept the day away. I have a few text messages to go over and reply to. I respond to Ris and Troy right away before setting my alarm for tomorrow. I'm not ready to meet with my dad's lawyers, but I don't have much choice, since I have already agreed to meet them. I read over Jason's text again before replying.
I'm sorry for what happened at breakfast. I don't like that guy. I didn't mean to upset you and my dad. Can you stay longer and come to the cabin with us next weekend? Please.
I don't know if I plan to stay through the weekend. I may leave back to the city after meeting with the lawyers tomorrow. I need to get back to work.
It's okay. I will think about it. Nite.
MY ALARM GOES OFF, AND I instantly remember that today is the day my father's death gets real. Today, we will be sitting down in front of his lawyers while they read off a piece of paper; what parts of my dad's life will go to who. I do not know how people can be excited about this sort of thing. I would rather have my dad back instead of his property.
I know when there is money or expensive collections involved, people become greedy, and that becomes their primary focus. It is no longer the death of their loved one. My feelings have not changed. I would give up all my dad's assets to have him back, even if it were only for a day. I want him here with me. To talk with me like he used to, unlike the dreams I am having where he won't even look in my direction.
I sit up from the couch and stretch my arms in the air. The reading of my father's Will today is making me sick to my stomach. Can I skip this part? I'm hungry, but I don't think I can manage to eat; I feel like throwing up. Why does this have to be done so soon after his death? Can't we wait a while, like forever? Everything is happening so fast that my heart's skipping a beat. I do not know how to handle this situation.
I head to the bathroom to take a shower. The hot water feels terrific against my neck and back, but I'm frozen in place while staring off into space. I'm numb from the feeling of what I have to go through today. I want to cry, but I can't. I want to crawl into my bed and not do today at all.
When am I going to grieve over the death of my father? Am I grieving? I've cried a few times, but I feel like I haven't grieved as I should. I know everyone grieves differently, but I thought I would take this way worse than I am. My father was my world. I should be more miserable then I am. I'm overthinking everything. I need to relax and take it easy.
I step out of the shower, soaking wet. I stare at myself in the mirror. Who are you? How are