The Visitor 1.2

Knock, knock, knock. Because my dad’s doorbell was broken.

I opened it. Standing there, was a chubby-cheeked, black-rimmed-bespectacled, woman. I recognized her immediately. Her hair was longer. A few wrinkles where there once wasn’t. A few pounds heavier. But still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.

Anna Lisa Kristina. The love of my life.

“Hey, Dumb.” She said. Kind of looked a little perturbed. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I dunno.” I said, voice cracking, muscles twitching. I couldn’t help it. “I didn’t want to talk to anyone.” I felt a tear drop from my lid.

Her face turned into sympathy. “Shhh…” She grabbed me and held me and hugged me. “It’ll be okay…” I believed her…

That was the greatest hug in the history of greatest hugs. It was what I needed. And she was the only one who could have given to me.

We moved to the couch. I put my hands on my face, trying my best to keep the tears in. She was rubbing my back, her hand on my thigh, squeezing reassuringly, every so often. “You need to breathe.” She said. “If you don’t breathe, you’re going to die.”

I giggled. It was funny. And it was a good release. “Oh thank God…” She said, relieved. “I didn’t think that joke was appropriate.” She smiled. And it made me feel less cold.

I giggled again. “It wasn’t.” I smiled, through tears. “But I think you’re the only one that can get away with it.”

She smiled. Pushed her chubby cheeks into chubbier cheek-ness.

“Dumb,” She began, hand still rubbing my back, other hand still on my thigh. “How come you won’t go visit your dad at the hospital?”

It was because I was stupid. Because I was an idiot. Because I was a selfish, self-centered, asshole, that didn’t want to admit life was not a well-rhymed poem. That life wasn’t always pretty. And that the ugly, for the most part, won. It was because, for some odd reason, I thought if I went to the hospital, it would be the last time I’d see him. It was because I didn’t want to see my father, lying in a hospital bed, not in his own clothes, unconscious, with tubes in his head, a piece of his skull in his stomach, weak, half-dead.

It was because, for the most stupidest reasons in the history of the world, if I showed up at the hospital, I’d be admitting something was wrong with that man who helped give me life. Because he was my father.  Because I was his son. Because if I showed up at that hospital, it would’ve meant he was done, and that I was supposed to go on without him.

And I wasn’t ready to let him go.

“I dunno.” was what I said.

She took her hands off of me. Shrugged her shoulders. Rolled her eyes. Shook her head. Like so many times before. “Dumb, you are so dumb sometimes…” She said.

“I know…”

“You know he would want you to be there. You know your sister needs you there. You know, as well as anyone, that you should be there.”

“I know…”

Ah! Xavier!” She flustered. “You’re so stubborn!”

“I know…”

She rolled her eyes one more time. “You know what?” She said, getting up. Standing in front of me. “You’re going to the hospital to see your father. Right now!”

I looked up at her. The only one. The only one…

“I am?” I said.

“Yes.” She said, determined. “You may be stubborn, but you aren’t in the same universe as my stubborness.”

I shook my head, weakly, knowing how this would end up.

“You know how this is going to end up.” She said, on cue. “I’m going to win. Don’t waste time arguing with me. So get up and get dressed.” She stood there firmly. Wouldn’t budge.

I sighed. Stood up. “Okay.”

“Hurry up.” She urged.

“Okay…” I said, walking towards my room.

“Xavier…” She started.

“I know.” I said, on cue. “I love you, too.”

I felt her smile from my back of my head.

She was the only one…