Light in the Shadows

could move on and be with someone else.  And why couldn’t that someone be Jake Fitzsimmons? 
                    But then Clay had blown back into my world and I realized I was deluding myself.  Because I couldn’t stomach the thought of sharing my life with anyone else. 
                    “Why don’t we order a pizza and catch up on CSI.  I won’t tell your mom that we watched TV during dinner,” my dad joked, dropping his keys down on the counter after coming in from work.
                    It was Thursday, Mom’s Bunco night.  Dad and I had proclaimed it Pizza Thursday years ago and it was a routine we rarely deviated from.  I looked up from my English homework and grinned as my dad started rooting through the junk drawer, trying to find the coupons for Papa John’s. 
                    “Sounds like a plan,” I agreed.  My dad opened the refrigerator to get a drink and pulled out a Pyrex dish covered in foil with a note attached to the top.  My dad read it and let out an audible groan.
                    “What is it?” I asked, coming over to grab the note.  It was from my mom.  She was asking my dad to run the casserole over to Ruby.  A knot suddenly formed in my stomach.
                    “Well, that was nice of her,” I said, peeking up at my dad hesitantly.  His mouth was set in a firm line and he looked anything but pleased with my mother’s thoughtfulness. 
                    “I wish she’d just leave well enough alone,” he grumbled, putting the casserole down on the counter with a hard slam. 
                    “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, getting annoyed by my dad’s rudeness.  Whatever his feelings for Clay, how he could be less than friendly to Ruby after all that she had been through seemed callous.
                    My dad sighed.  “I feel horrible for Ruby.  She’s a sweet woman, always has been.  But it doesn’t change the fact that her nephew caused you a lot of anguish.  Anguish I don’t want to see repeated.  And I think prolonging our contact with that family, whatever the reason, is just asking for more heartache.”  I understood his hesitance about putting Clay and me in close proximity.  That didn’t change the fact that Clay and Ruby had lost someone they loved and needed as much support as we could give them.   
                    But I understood where my dad was coming from.  He had to watch his only child waste away in the middle of a severe depression brought on by a destructive relationship with Ruby’s very sick nephew.  I could get why he wanted us to keep our distance.
                    But that just wasn’t realistic. 
                    “Dad, Clay lives here now.  You can’t expect me to avoid him altogether.  It takes you all of ten minutes to drive from one side of Davidson to the next,” I teased, trying to lighten the mood.
                    My dad gave me a look that saw entirely too much.  “Look, Maggie May.  I won’t tell you to stay away from him.  We did that once and it didn’t end very well.” I cringed at assessment.
                    “I can only hope you’ve learned something from what you went through with that boy.  That maybe you’ve figured out what works in your life and what doesn’t.” He watched me closely, and I tried to keep my face neutral.
                    When I didn’t respond, he sighed again and held out the casserole dish.  “Here, run this over to Ruby’s for me.  I’ll order the pizza.”  He didn’t look at me and I blinked in surprise.  Was he serious?  He was actually suggesting that I go to Clay’s house?
                    I slowly took the dish out of his hands and went to grab my purse.  My dad was standing at the counter, staring down at the phone book, though I wasn’t sure he was seeing it.  I got the sense that he felt he was releasing me into the lion’s den. 
                     Right then I loved him so much.  For letting me make my own choices and not trying to control my potential mistakes.  And I swore that I wouldn’t let him or Mom down again.  That I would do things differently.
                    How that would pan out, I didn’t know.  But my resolve was ironclad.