With the Father by Jenni Moen Read Free Book Online

of it. My dad could pay someone to run it. “I’m not coming in.”
      “You
don’t have to. I can bring everything to you. Whatever you can’t do at home,
I’ll take care of for you.”
    “No,” I said, shaking my head. I didn’t think I
even cared if there were no coats for the kids of Karen’s Kitchen this year.
    I groaned. That wasn’t true. I did care. My heart
wrenched in my chest as I pictured my own kids. I wanted to scream.
    “I know you want to
hide. I know you wake up every day asking why. But there is no why, Grace. You
just have to have faith that there’s something else in store for you.”
    “Stop,” I said
because I didn’t believe in God any more. I didn’t have any faith left. There
was nothing else in store for me.
    I was losing
control. Any second, the dam would break, and there would be enough tears to
fill the entire car. I would drown us both with my misery.
    “I don’t want there
to be a plan,” I said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me
against his shoulder. The top of my head nestled into his neck and the
comforting smell of his laundry detergent washed over me.  
    “I chose wrong,” I
whispered. “I want to go back. I want a redo.”  

DENIAL

 
    Grace

 
    “Are you going to get up today?” Kate stood in the doorway to my room. Half-in and half-out of the room, she appeared unsure about
whether she should come any closer.
    “I haven’t decided,” I said, sliding the object in my hands under my
comforter.  
    “Dinner with the Pretty Prophet was fun, huh?”  
    “It was okay.” I
sat up on the edge of the bed too quickly, and the blood rushed to my head.
    “What was that?”
she asked.
    “Head rush. I just
moved too quickly.”   She was still
blurry through the bright streaks of light and stars screwing up my vision.
    “No. What you just
hid from me. What was that?” She gave me her best disapproving mother hen look.
It didn’t fit Kate. She rarely disapproved of anything.
    I sighed loudly for
effect and patted around until I found it. Both indignant and embarrassed, I
showed her the shiny black cell phone.  
    “That’s not yours.”
    “No.”
    “Is it – ? ”
    “Jonathan’s.”
      “You’ve had it all of this time?” She
eyed the phone like she wanted to rip it out of my hands.
    “Yes. He gave it to
me before …” My voice trailed off.
    “It still works?”
    “Yeah. Dad’s been
paying the bill.” Humiliation threatened to burn me up on the spot.
    “Why?” Her voice
was low and cautious.
    “His voice. If I
turn it off, I won’t be able to hear him anymore.” It was pathetic. I knew it
was, but I didn’t really care. It was all I had left of him.
    Nothing in the
house had been salvageable. The phone and Trey’s stuffed donkey, which had been
left at my dad’s earlier that day, were the only physical proof I had of my
former life.
    Kate’s expression
went soft. “Hey, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s totally
understandable. You should keep it for as long as you need it.”
    I didn’t see how I
would ever not need it. “I just don’t want to forget. Their faces are already
getting fuzzy. It hasn’t even been that long, and they’re already slipping
away. But I can still hear his voice.”
    She walked into the
room, grabbed a picture frame from the top of the dresser and sat down on the
bed beside me. “We won’t let that happen,” she said, handing it to me.
    It was from last
Halloween. Isabelle was dressed up as a princess. Trey had been in an Ironman
phase at the time. I stared longingly at their faces, unable to speak.
    After I moved in,
my dad offered to hide all of the pictures in the house, but I’d begged him not
to. Pretending like they hadn’t existed wasn’t going to help me.
    Kate picked up the
phone in my lap and pushed a button to wake it up. The screen was suddenly
illuminated with a picture of Trey. His grinning face beamed proudly at the
small turtle in his little