HIM

cannot help but drift off into memories of my favorite times with him. We did everything together. We were the best of friends. We fished, hunted, and went camping. He taught me how to ride a bike, drive a car, change the oil on vehicles, and even beat up boys. My father was all I needed, and he never made me miss not having a mom. He played both roles quite well.
Since I am not paying any attention to the eulogy, while off in la-la land reminiscing over years of memories with my father, I smile.
"Allison!"
My aunt snaps me back to reality.
"We need to go over your father's will sometime this week. That is whenever you're ready."
This week? I was not planning to stay here for too long. I need to get back to the city.
I give her a polite nod as I walk behind my father's house to my old swing set. I grab hold of one of the rusty swings and think about how it is something he never restored, considering he made restoring classic cars his life's work, but never restored a swing for me. I giggle and sit down on one of the old, worn out swings.
The thought that you do not know what you've got until it's gone is all too real. I am unprepared to live in a world without my father. I am not ready to deal with what comes next. I miss my father and never thought this day would come. Now that it's here, I am clueless about how to embark on the next chapter of my life—a world without a dad.
IN MY FATHER’S HOUSE, there is a festive atmosphere. People are consuming little sandwiches and other finger foods. A basket of cards is spilling out over a table near the fireplace and flowers litter the living room. There are so many people here that I do not know or remember. They give condolences and it is tough to strike up a conversation, so I say thank you and smile.
I sit on the bay window watching people leave. I can hear my aunt being the hostess with the mostest as always. The same questions haunt me. What am I going to do now? I no longer have a father. Who will I discuss my problems with? Who will give me the worst advice ever on men and dating? Who will I call to discuss issues with my car?
"Alicat!" I hear a gruff rumble.
I turn to see one of the best people ever to be associated with my father. My dad's best friend, Ernie. I jump excitedly and wrap my arms around this husky fellow. He hasn't changed a wink.
"Hey, ya, old fart. How the hell are ya?" I ask.
"Oh, you know I'm doing as well as can be expected considering," he says softly.
It's a time to celebrate my father's life, but I cannot help but feel excited about seeing Ernie after so long. He is wonderful man and the next best thing to a father.
"Yeah, it's a sorrowful day. Thank you so much for being here. It means a lot to me. My father would be grateful," I say.
He hugs me again then asks about my job and life in the big city. He tells me he still cannot believe I am grown. I am no longer that little tomboy hanging around, learning about cars. I smile as he brings back cherished childhood memories.
A lot has changed since then. I am a woman now, and I haven't gotten my hands dirty under the hood of a car in a long time.
"Maybe, I will come by the shop tomorrow and see what you guys have got going on. Get my hands dirty," I say to ease the mood.
"We would love that. It's great to see you, Ali," he says before kissing me on the top of my head.
I begin to gather the plates and cups as guests continue to leave. The mess is smaller than one would except. My aunt and uncle walk up to me as the last guest and family member leaves.
"Are you okay here tonight?" my uncle asks.
"You know you are welcome to come to stay with us," my aunt chimes in.
"I am fine staying here. Thank you for the invite," I reply with a smile.
It couldn’t be further from the truth. Am I fine? Am I okay staying in my childhood home where my father won't be walking through the front door after a day full of restoring old yeller?
I hug my aunt and uncle then watch as they get into their vehicle. I walk back into the living room, perusing my dad's knickknacks and collectibles. I never paid much attention to them before, but now they hold meaning. They are tiny pieces of my dad.
Maybe, I should take a shower, get this makeup off, get out of this dress. I head to the bathroom and pass a large photo in the hallway. It's new, and I don't remember seeing it before. The large frame holds small pictures, the center picture bigger than the rest. Each photo is of my father and me through the restoration process of my mustang. The images span from the day we found it out in bum fuck Egypt to the day he gave it to me, fully restored, for my High School graduation. The smiles on our faces are still contagious. Tears threaten and the moment is broken.
As I step into the shower and the hot water hits my body, I lose it. Crumpling under the sobs, I rock back and forth. My dad is gone. He’s gone forever, and I am all alone.

Chapter Two
I open my eyes and look around, forgetting that I am back in my old room. The house feels still and quiet. I wish this were a dream, and my father would be downstairs at the kitchen table, with his coffee in his hand, looking through the classifieds for cars.
I roll out of my bed