Fallen Crest Public(102)

He nodded. “Yeah and you didn’t have to clean up. Thanks for that. I didn’t mean to run out and have you pick up after me.”
“It was no problem.” Where did I put my hands? I had no idea anymore. I crossed them over my chest, but that didn’t feel right. In my pockets? Would that be less awkward?
“Okay.” A grin teased at the corner of his mouth. “Why don’t you take the pizza down, and I’ll grab everything else. There should be pop and water downstairs, too.”
“Okay.”
“I think I have chips, too. You still like Doritos?”
I nodded and headed for the basement door. Once it swung open and he headed to the kitchen, I stopped at the top of the stairs. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I needed one deep breath. Then I felt for the light switch and flicked it on. The stairwell lit up and a glimmer of home came back to me.
It was only a glimmer, but it was something.
Watching a movie with David wasn’t so bad after that. The awkwardness or tension had lifted, and it was our spot again. When we started the movie, I closed my eyes halfway through it. I could pretend for a moment. This was before the cheating. Before the divorce. I was transported back to the time before my world fell apart. Then I heard David laugh and turned to him. His eyes were sparkling. His paused with a handful of popcorn going to his mouth as he waited for the punch line in the movie. There it was. I heard the actor say it, and David roared with laughter. His head fell back and his hand waited in the air until he was done. Then he tossed the popcorn like nothing happened and went back to watching the movie.
I felt the tears coming.
This was it. This was the moment I had been craving since Analise took us away. Home. It wasn’t my old home. I knew that, but it was a new home. Mason and Logan would join this home and we’d be together. Everything would be fine. I knew it.
“Did you see that?” He laughed and pointed to the screen.
Yes. We put in the same movie we always used to watch. I had it memorized. So did he, but I laughed with him. It felt right to do so. We were still laughing about the same jokes when reality hit me. I remembered everything and stopped laughing. I stopped breathing.
“Samantha?”
“What?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. I just,” remembered that I didn’t have a mother, “realized that Mason never texted me back.”
“They have a game tonight? You didn’t want to go?”
Pointing to my face again, I grinned. “Look like the walking dead.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry.”
I shrugged and joked, “What do you do? Life of the Bullied and Attacked, right? I should write a blog about it.”
“You should.”
I was struck by the serious tone from him. “What?”
“You should.”
I laughed again. I must’ve heard him wrong. “What’d you say?”
“That’s how you get your voice out? I say, do it. You have something to say, put it in a blogger. I would be proud if my daughter bloggered.”
“It’s,” blogged and not bloggered, but I kept quiet. He was so proud, and it was because of me. I stopped for the moment. He had no idea what he was saying, but he was trying. More tears threatened to spill, and I turned away again.
I had missed him.
“Samantha?”
“I’m fine.” I waved him off.
“Did I say something wrong?” He had grown quiet again.
I wanted to cry, hide, and wrap my arms around him at the same time. There was that hesitation and anxiety in him again. I hadn’t heard it in so long, but memories flooded me from their fights. He would respond to a question and Analise would become enraged. I heard it so many times, but it was never him. That’s what I wanted to tell him for so long. It was her. She was the problem. She ripped apart our family. Everything was her fault.