Crashing Down

I walk into the coffee shop, out of the cold fall rain that has been beating down since this afternoon. That warm familiar smell I love hits me as soon as I open the door. Immediately, comfort falls over my entire body, the small feeling of dread that has been sitting in the pit of my stomach relaxes a little and allows me to breathe. I don’t think I’ve taken a deep breath the whole walk here. I start to feel a little calmer even if it’s only for a second. I push my soaked dishwater blond hair away from my pale face and walk over to the counter to order my standard, caramel macchiato and a banana nut muffin. I glance at my phone to check the time. I put in an order for a vanilla latte and caramel apple scone and ask the barista to hold it until he arrives. 

After I pay and grab my stuff, I turn to look around the coffee shop. It’s always busy on Saturday nights. They offer a special discount to college students and hold a trivia contest at 9:00. There are a lot of students who show up early to socialize, write late papers, and catch up on studying, so it’s not long before the tables fill up. I spot an  open one towards the front of the shop. It sits in a little nook where they have a library set up for patrons who have way too much time to sit in the coffee shop, However, it is always secluded and private there so it’s usually my go to spot when it’s open. There are only two small tables that can fit in the cramped space and one already has a girl sitting at it. She appears to be about my age with tanned skin and dark brown wavy hair that makes her look as if she just stepped in off the beach. Her sunglasses are perched on the top of her head and she has an earphone stuffed into each ear. Her music blasting so loud I can hear every word of the song she’s listening to as I take my seat at the empty table beside her. I take a sip of my coffee and get out my phone to view the message he sent me yet again:

Hey Riley. I have something I need to talk to you about. It’s important. Please don’t tell your mom.

I’ve read it over and over for hours. My heart pumping in my chest. My dad never asks me to meet him to talk about something. He just texts me up or waits until I get home and we talk about it over dinner. And to ask me not to tell my mom we’re meeting is really bothering me. So many thoughts have been running through my mind. Is he sick? Are they divorcing? Is my mother sick and she doesn’t want me to know? I start breathing quickly, feeling as if I’m going to hyperventilate. I take another swig of my coffee and bite into my muffin.

“Um… Are you okay?”

I look up from my phone to see the girl at the other table staring at me with concern.

I nod. Trying to chew up and swallow the giant peace of muffin that I had just shoved into my mouth moments before. 

“Really? Because you look like you’re on the edge of a breakdown.”

Eventually I am able to choke down the muffin enough to answer her.

“Sorry. I just have a lot going on right now. My dad's supposed to meet me here soon to talk about something he says is really important and that’s just not like him. I’m afraid maybe he’s sick or something…”

I stop mid sentence, realizing that I’ve started babbling all of my personal woes to this girl who may not want to know. And judging by the look on her face, she was probably only asking to be polite. 

She stares at me a second longer before saying anything.

“Must be the theme of the night,” she scoffs as she rolls her eyes to the ceiling.

I laugh a little as her blasé manner breaks the tension of the situation.

“Your dad wants to meet you too? Is it also important?”

She shrugs. “I doubt it. He said meet him here so we can talk. Which is what he usually writes when he wants to catch up after not seeing me for the week.”

“Because of school?” I ask, nodding to let her know that I empathize with her.

“Yeah… I mean, that’s his excuse now.” She takes a sip of her iced coffee and looks down at her phone to change the song that just started blasting out of the earphones that are now hanging around her neck. 

“That’s nice of him, “ I say, starting to feel really bad for her. My dad and I have such a special bond. I can’t imagine what that must be like for her to never see her dad and not have that connection with him.

She gives another nonchalant shrug and takes a sip of her coffee again. “I guess. He’s never really been around for me and my mom much. So he’s tried catching up a little more over the years when he’s off for the weekends and such since I don’t live at the house anymore.”

“Are they still together?” I venture. I know it’s none of my business, but one thing about me is that I’m a very nosy person. Plus, she doesn’t seem like she cares enough about the conversation to be offended by my question.

“As together as they’ve ever been,” she replies airily. “He’s worked at the same job since I was a little kid. He’s a big businessman, owns his own company. I’m still not even totally sure what it is that he does. He works here in the city, which is about 3 hours away from where I grew up. He’s always just lived here during the week, then drove home on the weekends…”

“And your mom?” I press, wanting to hear more about her relationship with her parents. 

 “My mom was there for me as much as she could be, but since she’s a nurse at the ER there were many nights that it was just me, which got kind of lonely at times. But hey, it made it easy for me to skip math homework when I wanted to. Sometimes on the nights she was gone, I’d sit on the couch and watch old episodes of I Love Lucy and have ice cream for dinner.  So there were some advantages to my dad being gone every night.” She laughs, her face brightening a little at the memory.

I give a lighthearted laugh with her. I know she’s trying not to show it, but I can tell she’s hurting. “So you never saw your dad at all?” 

“He came home sometimes on the weekends he could get off, but that wasn’t often. I moved here for college so that I could be closer to him, but even now we still don’t get to see a lot of each other...”

She trails off. Leaving me at a loss for what to say. 

We both stare off into opposite directions for a while, and drink our coffees. She’s the first one to break the silence again.  

“I remember when I was little I used to lie awake at night and wish so hard for a different life.” She’s still staring off into the distance as she starts to speak. “I always used to wish that my mom and dad would get married, and he would change jobs and be at home all the time, and that I had, like 20 brothers and sisters…”

I can’t help it. The seriousness of her voice when she made her last comment causes me to snort into my drink. A few splashes of coffee spilling out onto the table. She comes out of her trance to stare at me as I try and keep my composure while wiping up the mess with a napkin. Her look is both that of annoyance and amusement.

“What?” she asks.

“Nothing,” I splutter, still trying not to giggle. “It’s just that siblings aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. I grew up with three brothers and I used to lie awake at night wishing that I was an only child. Or at least had a sister…”

She starts laughing also. “Okay so maybe 20 was an exaggeration, but just someone else to share everything with would have been nice.”

I nod. “Yeah. I get what you mean. I couldn’t share much with my brothers. They were all older than me and didn’t understand anything about girls.”

She regards me hesitantly for a moment. “Did you grow up with your mom? I mean she was there for you to talk to right?” Now it’s her turn to pry. 

“Oh yeah.” I tell her. “My childhood with my dad was almost the complete opposite, including his work schedule. My mom and dad have been married for over 25 years. My dad works in real estate. His office is about 20 minutes from the house, so he’s home every night. Which is why it made it almost impossible for me to skip any school assignments when I was younger. And I swear to you that every teacher must have had him on speed dial to let him know what assignment I had and when it was due. He always knew! I mean, he had- still has- the occasional weekend that he isn’t home due to his heavy work schedule, but for the most part he’s always home with us. He sells houses to wealthy clients and they always want to meet up for dinners or hold parties on the weekends.”

We both fall silent again. I down the last bit of coffee and start back in on my muffin. This time she waits until I have fully swallowed before asking me anymore questions.

“So enough about dads. What is it that you do? Do you go to college in town also?” 

“I actually just graduated a couple semesters ago with a degree in psychology.” I feel myself flush a little. “I can’t seem to get a job in my field so right now I’m doing some social work in town. I’ve decided to just work towards owning my own company at some point.”

“Ahh, that explains all the personal questions.” A look of dawning realization spreading over her face. “I don’t have to pay for this do I?” 

I laugh and shake my head. “Nope. This session is on the house.”

“Well thank you for the heart to heart. It’s helped me move past all of my childhood trauma.” She winks at me. 

“No problem,” I reply. “All in a day’s work.”

She grins and puts her earphones back in. Signaling the end of our conversation.

I go back to staring at the message on my phone. My heart aching as I wait to find out what urgent message he has to tell me. My mind goes back to inventing all sorts of ‘what ifs’. I look around the coffee shop. Most people have started to congregate at the back few tables for the trivia competition. I look at them all laughing and smiling. So carefree and totally oblivious to the world around them. My stomach clenches at the thought of what may come in the next few minutes. The conversation had been a welcome break from these feelings.  

I’m facing the door so I see him as soon as he enters. The nerves I’ve felt all day start coursing through my veins again. I can see out the open door that the now dark sky is still spitting down heavy raindrops on everyone passing by. He wipes his feet along the rug in front of the door and closes his umbrella before looking around. He spots me and a warm smile forms on his lips. He’s given me the same smile for 22 years now, but there’s something a little different about the one he gives me tonight. I’m not sure if I’m imagining it but there seems to be a bit of unease about it. I see the girl at the other table turn and stare apprehensively as he makes his way towards me. It feels like slow motion as he moves across the shop. My mouth starts to go dry. I try to swallow, but the lump in my throat is too big. This is it. When he reaches the table I stand up, bumping into the brown haired girl beside me as she gets out of her chair also. 

  “Dad.” we say in unison...