Teaser from JL Berg's Facebook post.
“Don’t kid when it comes to celebrities.”
“You know, I’m a celebrity,” I said smoothly.
“Yeah, but I’ve heard you pee, and now all the mystery and allure is gone,” she shrugged.
“You have not heard me pee!”
“Have too. You pee with the door open at night, and guy pee is really loud.”
“This conversation has taken a really weird turn.”
“Come here,” he said softly. I came without hesitation, kneeling on the bed to meet him in the middle. His hand slipped slowly around my waist, and he bent down to kiss my collarbone, giving me chills.
“Turn around,” he whispered. I did as he asked, turning in his arms so my back pressed against his front. Both still on our knees, he positioned us on the bed so that we faced the floor length mirror that sat in the corner of my bedroom. His hands gripped me tighter against his body, and his fingers dug into my hip as his eyes found mine.
“Do you know what I see right now?” he whispered. Unable to speak, I just shook my head.
“Perfection. I see absolute perfection.”
I flinched, knowing it was now time for me to leave. No good ever came from this argument, and I’d learned my lesson before. I folded up the grocery bags, and headed for the door. As I turned the handle, I took one last look at my father, seeing him hunched over the counter. His face was buried in his hands and he looked about twenty years older than his actual age. I’ve always wondered what life would have been like if he had just let her go. If he was able to man up and be the father I so desperately needed him to be. But he didn’t. And this was the life we both ended up with.
“Happy Thanksgiving Day, Dad,” I whispered, before quickly walking out the door and taking my first full breathe in minutes. I cried the entire way home.