Scattered Colors by Jessica Prince Read Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Prince
don’t want you to go through life so busy that you forget to look up and enjoy what God’s created for you. Even if it’s only for a second. Each and every one is special. Nothing in life is guaranteed, Freya. You can’t predict how many days you’ll have on this Earth, how many more sunsets you’ll be here to see. I want you to make me a promise. Always watch the sun set, baby girl.”
I turned from her to watch as the sun dipped down like it was falling into the ocean. “I promise, Mommy.”
I wasn’t able to fully grasp what she was telling me back then, but as I looked down at the picture her words came back to me, and I understood what she’d been saying. She might have run out of sunsets, but I could still make sure to take in as many as possible, enjoying every one enough for the both of us.
“Is that one of the old photo albums?”
I turned my head, surprised to find my father standing in the doorway of my room. I was so lost in old memories I hadn’t heard him arrive home.
“Yeah.” I reached up with one hand and brushed the tears from my cheeks.
“So this is where they’ve all been,” he said, a shadow of a smile on his lips as he took in all the old, handcrafted albums scattered across my bed. “I was wondering what happened to them in the move.”
I closed the book in my lap and ran my fingers over the cover lightly, somewhat saddened that my father’s appearance had cut my time with my mother and our memories short. “I didn’t think you’d notice.” I watched as my finger trailed a random pattern across the front of the album, refusing to meet my father’s eyes as I added, “I didn’t really think you cared.”
The feel of the mattress sinking as Dad sat down drew my attention to him. His hands lay in his lap as he stared off into space as if he was picturing my mother in his head. It was the first time since she’d passed that I really took the time to look at my father. His dark hair was smattered with more gray than it had been months back, the wrinkles around his eyes and lips more prominent. Dark rings circled under his plain brown eyes, giving them a sunken appearance. He looked tired…older.
“It’s not that I don’t care, Freya. I just can’t…”
“Cope,” I finished for him when he went silent, unable to find the right word.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “I guess you could say that.”
More tears pricked at the backs of my eyes as I turned away from him. I didn’t want him to see me cry. I hadn’t received a single second of comfort from him so far, and I refused to let him see me hurting. I’d been handling the pain alone for months by that point. “I’m tired. I think I’m going to call it a night. Was there something you needed?” I asked.
His shoulders drooped as he turned and smiled at me sadly, making sure to keep his eyes steady on a spot over my shoulder. “No, honey. I don’t need anything. I just wanted to see how school was going.”
My stomach knotted at his endearment. I wanted so badly to believe the moment was going to be a defining one for the both of us, that things were going to finally start looking up, but I knew better. Months later and my own father still couldn’t bear to look at me. He was drowning in his grief while I floated along in my own with no rescue in site. Nothing was going to change. Despite his detour into my bedroom, his expression and body language made it clear he didn’t want to be there.
“Fine, I guess,” I answered with a small shrug.
My father didn’t bother hanging around any longer. Standing, he brushed at a piece of imaginary lint on his slacks. “Well, I’ll let you get some sleep. Good night.”
“Night, Dad.”
He made it to the door before he looked over his shoulder. “I love you, Freya. Very much.” His voice broke at the end as his eyes shined with unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”
And with that he was gone. I pushed the albums aside and curled up in my bed. I cried myself to sleep
I turned from her to watch as the sun dipped down like it was falling into the ocean. “I promise, Mommy.”
I wasn’t able to fully grasp what she was telling me back then, but as I looked down at the picture her words came back to me, and I understood what she’d been saying. She might have run out of sunsets, but I could still make sure to take in as many as possible, enjoying every one enough for the both of us.
“Is that one of the old photo albums?”
I turned my head, surprised to find my father standing in the doorway of my room. I was so lost in old memories I hadn’t heard him arrive home.
“Yeah.” I reached up with one hand and brushed the tears from my cheeks.
“So this is where they’ve all been,” he said, a shadow of a smile on his lips as he took in all the old, handcrafted albums scattered across my bed. “I was wondering what happened to them in the move.”
I closed the book in my lap and ran my fingers over the cover lightly, somewhat saddened that my father’s appearance had cut my time with my mother and our memories short. “I didn’t think you’d notice.” I watched as my finger trailed a random pattern across the front of the album, refusing to meet my father’s eyes as I added, “I didn’t really think you cared.”
The feel of the mattress sinking as Dad sat down drew my attention to him. His hands lay in his lap as he stared off into space as if he was picturing my mother in his head. It was the first time since she’d passed that I really took the time to look at my father. His dark hair was smattered with more gray than it had been months back, the wrinkles around his eyes and lips more prominent. Dark rings circled under his plain brown eyes, giving them a sunken appearance. He looked tired…older.
“It’s not that I don’t care, Freya. I just can’t…”
“Cope,” I finished for him when he went silent, unable to find the right word.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “I guess you could say that.”
More tears pricked at the backs of my eyes as I turned away from him. I didn’t want him to see me cry. I hadn’t received a single second of comfort from him so far, and I refused to let him see me hurting. I’d been handling the pain alone for months by that point. “I’m tired. I think I’m going to call it a night. Was there something you needed?” I asked.
His shoulders drooped as he turned and smiled at me sadly, making sure to keep his eyes steady on a spot over my shoulder. “No, honey. I don’t need anything. I just wanted to see how school was going.”
My stomach knotted at his endearment. I wanted so badly to believe the moment was going to be a defining one for the both of us, that things were going to finally start looking up, but I knew better. Months later and my own father still couldn’t bear to look at me. He was drowning in his grief while I floated along in my own with no rescue in site. Nothing was going to change. Despite his detour into my bedroom, his expression and body language made it clear he didn’t want to be there.
“Fine, I guess,” I answered with a small shrug.
My father didn’t bother hanging around any longer. Standing, he brushed at a piece of imaginary lint on his slacks. “Well, I’ll let you get some sleep. Good night.”
“Night, Dad.”
He made it to the door before he looked over his shoulder. “I love you, Freya. Very much.” His voice broke at the end as his eyes shined with unshed tears. “I’m sorry.”
And with that he was gone. I pushed the albums aside and curled up in my bed. I cried myself to sleep