to the room but the tears were already pooling in her eyes.
I stood up and reached for her arm. “What’s going on, Nat?”
She looked into my eyes, her eyes growing red. “Daddy.”
I shook my head in disbelief. How could she possibly be upset about an accident he caused? “The doctor’s said he’ll be fine.”
She shook her head. “Things have gotten really bad, Nate.”
I was quiet, wondering how they could be any worse.
“He barely works now. He just stays home drinking,” she started. “The night before his accident while Ma was at work, I came home and he was just sitting there. In the dark. Holding one of those damn bottles in his hand. Like he had never gotten up. Like he had been sitting there for hours.” She took a deep breath and continued, “He asked me to bring him something to eat and when I went to take off my coat, he threw the bottle at me. For no fucking reason, Nate. Just threw it at me. It barely missed my head but hit the wall shattered on the floor. The glass flew everywhere.” The tears were streaming down her cheeks. “Then he laughed, Nate. He sat in that dirty ass sofa that he’s always on and just laughed. Like it was fucking funny.”
I look at her seething, wishing my father was in front of me so I could beat the shit out of him. He’d thrown things before but never at her. Never at Natalie.
“I wish he had died in that accident, Nate. I wish he was fucking dead.” She began to sob audibly. The tears running down her face and dripping from her chin. I stood beside her with my hand on her shoulder waiting until her sobs subsided. I thought of all the times I had wished the same thing. The times I wished he would have one drink too many, fall asleep and never wake up.
“You need to get out of here,” I said.
She looked up, her eyes filled with hope. I pictured packing her up and leaving that house. Giving her my room in D.C. while I slept on the couch. I wouldn’t be perfect but Phil would understand and I could watch her. I could make sure she was safe. We met eyes and she pleaded with me without words. She wanted me to rescue her but something stopped me from saying the words. Taking her with me would be like taking all of them. It would be like taking what I had waited 18 years to escape.
“Maybe California isn’t a bad idea.” I backed away from her and shoved my hands in my pockets. “I’m going to take a quick walk. You need me to pick up anything?” I asked avoiding her eyes.
She shook her head.
“Okay,” I said heading towards the door. I closed the door as I walked out, hoping my footsteps would drown out the tears I left behind.
CHAPTER THREE
The morning after I walked away from Natalie, I left before anyone woke up. My ticket was not until noon but I didn’t want to risk running into her. My train ended up being delayed, so by the time I settled into my seat, it was already close to 2pm. Fortunately, I found an empty row near the rear of the train. I placed my bag on the adjoining window seat, turned on my iPod and closed my eyes, trying to erase the image of Natalie drenched in tears from my mind. Natalie’s cries echoed in the walls of my head, bouncing again and again like a basketball, the memory pounding hard and heavy. I had nothing to offer her, I told myself again and again, hoping if I kept repeating it, I would be able to teach myself to believe it.
“Do you mind if I squeeze in here?” I heard a young female voice say above my music about half way through my ride.
“Not at all.” My eyes were still closed. I was hoping my back turned towards the isle, and my bag on the seat beside me made it clear I wanted to be left alone. I opened my eyes, removed my bag and stood up, letting a petite young woman take the seat.
“The guy I was sitting next to smelled like vinegar, and he kept asking me where I lived.”
“Sucks.” I sighed,
I stood up and reached for her arm. “What’s going on, Nat?”
She looked into my eyes, her eyes growing red. “Daddy.”
I shook my head in disbelief. How could she possibly be upset about an accident he caused? “The doctor’s said he’ll be fine.”
She shook her head. “Things have gotten really bad, Nate.”
I was quiet, wondering how they could be any worse.
“He barely works now. He just stays home drinking,” she started. “The night before his accident while Ma was at work, I came home and he was just sitting there. In the dark. Holding one of those damn bottles in his hand. Like he had never gotten up. Like he had been sitting there for hours.” She took a deep breath and continued, “He asked me to bring him something to eat and when I went to take off my coat, he threw the bottle at me. For no fucking reason, Nate. Just threw it at me. It barely missed my head but hit the wall shattered on the floor. The glass flew everywhere.” The tears were streaming down her cheeks. “Then he laughed, Nate. He sat in that dirty ass sofa that he’s always on and just laughed. Like it was fucking funny.”
I look at her seething, wishing my father was in front of me so I could beat the shit out of him. He’d thrown things before but never at her. Never at Natalie.
“I wish he had died in that accident, Nate. I wish he was fucking dead.” She began to sob audibly. The tears running down her face and dripping from her chin. I stood beside her with my hand on her shoulder waiting until her sobs subsided. I thought of all the times I had wished the same thing. The times I wished he would have one drink too many, fall asleep and never wake up.
“You need to get out of here,” I said.
She looked up, her eyes filled with hope. I pictured packing her up and leaving that house. Giving her my room in D.C. while I slept on the couch. I wouldn’t be perfect but Phil would understand and I could watch her. I could make sure she was safe. We met eyes and she pleaded with me without words. She wanted me to rescue her but something stopped me from saying the words. Taking her with me would be like taking all of them. It would be like taking what I had waited 18 years to escape.
“Maybe California isn’t a bad idea.” I backed away from her and shoved my hands in my pockets. “I’m going to take a quick walk. You need me to pick up anything?” I asked avoiding her eyes.
She shook her head.
“Okay,” I said heading towards the door. I closed the door as I walked out, hoping my footsteps would drown out the tears I left behind.
CHAPTER THREE
The morning after I walked away from Natalie, I left before anyone woke up. My ticket was not until noon but I didn’t want to risk running into her. My train ended up being delayed, so by the time I settled into my seat, it was already close to 2pm. Fortunately, I found an empty row near the rear of the train. I placed my bag on the adjoining window seat, turned on my iPod and closed my eyes, trying to erase the image of Natalie drenched in tears from my mind. Natalie’s cries echoed in the walls of my head, bouncing again and again like a basketball, the memory pounding hard and heavy. I had nothing to offer her, I told myself again and again, hoping if I kept repeating it, I would be able to teach myself to believe it.
“Do you mind if I squeeze in here?” I heard a young female voice say above my music about half way through my ride.
“Not at all.” My eyes were still closed. I was hoping my back turned towards the isle, and my bag on the seat beside me made it clear I wanted to be left alone. I opened my eyes, removed my bag and stood up, letting a petite young woman take the seat.
“The guy I was sitting next to smelled like vinegar, and he kept asking me where I lived.”
“Sucks.” I sighed,
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