"Hey, John," you heard a female's voice pressed against your ear through your dad's phone speaker. "It's me."
"Dad?" you tried to confirm.
"I can explain everything," the voice sighed. "Are you in a private place?"
You walk upstairs to the master bedroom and said, "I am now. What are you doing? Do you have the bowl?"
"I have the bowl," the voice said. "As for what I'm doing, I'm saying goodbye."
"What??" you yell.
"Quiet, son," Gerry shushed. "Let me elaborate. I'm saying goodbye to my old life, but since you gave me this chance at starting over, I'm inviting you to join me."
"I'm so confused," your borrowed voice shook. "This is a joke right? Part of the prank?"
"No. I'm not joking. I'm not going back to being me. Ever," Gerry declared.
"Why?" you could barely breathe out.
"I had kids at 16 years old, son," your father's new voice lamented. "I've been working in construction for the last 24 years. I have no other skills and have reached my 40's. My kids are old enough to take care of themselves now, and I want my damn life back."
"But what about Mom?" you felt like crying.
"Your mother can take care of herself," Gerry shrugged. "She has a nursing degree. She's fine."
"But she loves you!" you felt a tear falling down your face.
"She's too clingy," your father complained. "Of both me and her kids. She insisted on being a stay-at-home Mom until she finally finished nursing school. I shouldered her, Erica, and Carmen all on my own until then because she refused to have a babysitter take care of them instead. And then after nursing school, she wanted even more kids, eventually only working part-time since I could foot most of the expenses."
"You can still, y'know, work it ou--" you argued.
"I could," he interrupted. "But that won't give me my life back. That won't give me my youth back. I've given her all of me already. I'm done."
"B-but, she loves you, Dad," you repeated. "She LOVES you!"
"That doesn't matter," your father rose his new soprano voice at you through the phone. "It doesn't matter if she loved me or if I loved her. I want my life back, and I'm never going back to that house again," your father paused. "It's not like I'm abandoning you, son. I'm making you an offer. If you care so much about your mother's feelings, then you could be the one to take care of her. If not, then I'll give you the chance to join me. You don't deserve to be stuck as your old man, kiddo. Join my new family, John. Let's stay family."
"And if I say no, then would you give the bowl back?" you asked, teeth chattering.
"No, I can't do that, son," your father rejected. "That would give proof that I really left and would destroy your mother."
"Why are you acting like you care if you're abandoning her anyways!" you yelled.
"If she thinks I'm crazy instead, then she'll muster the courage to work full-time and support my old body, your old body, and Stacy. If she finds out I left, then she'll spiral into depression and you and your little sister's lives get ruined. Not to mention her own life. That's the kind of person she is," he explained. "The family would probably be forced to sell the house and two of the cars just to get by a couple of years. You don't want to do that to her, would you?"
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" you spat.
"You're too young to understand," he sighed. "Well, what's it gonna be? Join me and be able to use the bowl? Or would you rather take care of your mother yourself?"   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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