As a party it was not a failure. People came, ate, drank, seemed to have fun, and left. It just didn't do what I had it intended it to do. I was standing in the living room. It looked like no party had happened. Paul's doing. He was always restless and always up at some ungodly hour and he was in the kitchen emptying the dishwasher.
"Brilliant party," he called
"Yeah," I said, trying not to sound disappointed. Didn't work apparently.
Paul walked into the living room. He was already showered and dressed.
"What's up?" he said
"Nothing," I sighed not too convincingly apparently.
Paul was staring at me and smiling. He told me he loved the way I looked right after I woke up. Like a little boy. Which if you think about it was kind of a creepy thing to say. And then the smile was gone and he walked over to me and hugged me which I wish he wouldn't sometimes.
"Oh my God," he said. "You were expecting your dad to show up weren't you."
"Not expecting," I lied. "Hoping." And shit I was crying, which made Paul hug me tighter which was exactly what I didn't want.
He led me to the sofa and we sat with a box of tissues between us. Felix jumped into my lap and started purring. I pushed him off. I didn't want anyone touching me. Felix looked up at me offended, decided it had been an accident and jumped up again. I let him stay.
Paul asked, "Jeez Joe, what made you think he would show? How old were you when he left?"
I blew my nose. Paul smiled. Shit. Was there nothing I could do that didn't make Paul smile? No apparently.
"Twelve," I sniffed.
"And when was the last time you saw him or even spoke to him?"
"I sent him an invitation. Reminded him it was my 21st birthday and all."
"Sent him an invitation? You know where he lives?"
"Yeah," I said. "Don't tell my sister I know. It wasn't that hard to find him. Jason helped me. He works for the FBI."
"I know Jason works for the FBI," Paul said. "It was illegal what you guys did, right."
"Kind of," I admitted.
Paul sighed. "You also know you'll never find him again."
"What?"
"You honestly don't think he's going to stick around now that he knows that you know where he is?"
"Don't care." I shrugged. "I'm going to get in the shower."
Paul asked,"What do you want for breakfast?"
"Nothing. Not hungry."
"Liar," Paul chuckled. "You're always hungry."
I stuck out my tongue. Paul laughed. I love his laugh. And I couldn't help it. I smiled.
"Want to go to the diner?" he asked.
"Sure," I said and closed the bathroom door.
As a rule I refuse to look at myself in the bathroom mirror. The lighting is awful and the mirror is too honest. But this time I looked. I opened the bathroom door.
"Paul," I called.
"Yeah?"
"We can't go anywhere."
Paul stood at the end of the hall.
"Why?"
"Because look at me."
"I'm looking," Paul smiled. "You're right we can't go anywhere with you looking like that. You're naked."
"My face." I said.
"Your face." He said.
"My eyes are all red and puffy. My nose is red and probably puffy too. I look like I've been crying."
Paul looked puzzled. "But you HAVE been crying."
"Exactly," I said. "I can't let anyone see me like this."
"Look. Just get in the shower. I'm starving."
"OK," I said. "I am too."
It was the morning of my twelfth birthday. I ran downstairs and into the kitchen. Something was up. Mom was sitting at the kitchen table staring at nothing as far as I could tell. The cat was weaving around her legs meowing. He hadn't been fed. I filled Tom's bowl and topped up his water. I walked over to mom.
"It's my birthday," I said grinning.
"I know," Mom said, indicating with her chin two wrapped presents on the table.
"Cool," I said. "Where's dad?"
"Gone." Mom said.
"Gone? Like to the store?"
"No," Mom said. "Gone as in gone."
"What does that mean?" I asked, no longer feeling so good.
"Dad's gone, he left. He isn't coming back."
"Ever?"
"I don't know." Mom started to cry.
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