CHAPTER THREE

‘So...you’re telling me you invited Dad here.’ I was still feeling sceptical about the whole thing. I always visualised them cringing in pain whenever someone says their names...guess not.

‘Yup,’ she threw behind her shoulder as she walked into the kitchen.

I followed suit, determined to get to the bottom of this. ‘So when are you going to tell me why?’ I asked as she stood on tip toes opening the cupboards and looking in.

‘Hmm...I think I better go grocery shopping, we don’t have much to cook,’ she frowned, totally ignoring my question. That is so like her.

‘Mom,’ I whined. ‘Tell me!’

She turned to look at me, annoyed. ‘Tell you what?’

‘Why you invited Dad back here!’

‘Why not?’

I was taken aback. Did she knock her head really hard and got amnesia or something? ‘Well, ‘cause he left? ‘Cause you guys are divorced?’

‘I don’t see why I can’t invite my ex-husband to a friendly dinner.’

She was acting calm, but I know better. You can always tell she’s nervous by just looking at her; her eyes are a dead giveaway. She wasn’t telling me something.

‘Uh huh,’ I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘So when are you going to tell me the real reason?’

I stood in front of the mirror, frowning to myself.

What do you wear to a dinner at home, except you have a guest? And that guest happens to be your father who divorced your mom and had been on hiatus for four years?

I looked at the alarm clock sitting on my bedside table.

5:50pm

Great, I have ten minutes until he arrives and I’m still standing here in my underwear.

Maybe I should wear something smart, like that white blouse and the pencil skirt Mom got me.

No, who wears that to a dinner at home?

‘Urgh,’ I groaned to myself. I opened my closet and peered in. I never shopped that much, unlike Annie so I didn’t have a lot of options. Why didn’t Mom tell me earlier anyways? At least then I’d have time to shop for clothes.

Giving up, I pulled on a bright yellow shirt and a pair of my favourite dark-washed skinny jeans.

After all, you can never go wrong with skinny jeans. That’s why I love them so much, they’re so versatile and comfy!

I was applying a coat of mascara when the door bell rang.

‘Shit! CASEY WILL YOU GET THAT?’ Mom bellowed from downstairs. Still cooking, no doubt. Mom always had a very bad sense of timing.

I sprinted downstairs and examined myself in the mirror we have at the hall. Quite useful when someone’s at the door you want to impress.

I opened the door to see him standing there holding a bouquet of flowers – yellow roses, Mom’s favourite. He still remembered?

‘Hi, Casey,’ he smiled, his eyes crinkling. This is awkward, do we hug?

‘Hey,’ I gave him a small smile. ‘Come in,’ I changed positions so he could come in. I noticed that he still had a head full of hair, black with white strands here and there.

Mom in her apron that says Kiss the Chef came barrelling out from the kitchen, spatula in hand, her eyes wide open. ‘You’re here! Dinner’s about to be ready, come to the dining table!’ She turned to me and said, ‘Case, set up the table.’

Chuckling, Dad went into the dining room that’s technically in the kitchen too, except we separated it with a cupboard so it looks like two rooms. Mom and I usually just eat at the kitchen island though, so the dining table was hardly ever used.

I put the roses in a vase I found somewhere and left it on the kitchen counter. Taking out Mom’s prized china and silverware, I set the table for three.

Soon, Mom arrived with dinner – steak with mashed potatoes. She calls it her specialty but I call it the only thing she can cook. Most of the time she’s so busy at work we just order take out from the Chinese place.

We both agreed that it’s the best choice, seeing as how we were both hopeless in cooking. Dad used to be the chef as he is one.

‘Dig in!’ she said, as she sat down opposite Dad.

Awkward.

‘So Mom,’ I said mid-chew. ‘Are you going to tell me now?’

She blushed and continued chewing her food agonizingly slow. ‘Um, well.’

‘Yeah...?’ I prompted. I’ve been waiting for too long, curiosity was burning in me.

‘Casey, the thing is,’ she said, looking at me sadly. ‘My boss offered me a job.’

Her boss offered her a job, so she invited Dad to dinner to celebrate? Um, I think not. It’s not like it’s the first time she got offered a job anyways.

‘Did you take it?’

‘Well, the opportunities were too much for me to put down and –’ she looked at Dad, pleading with her eyes to back her up.

Putting down his fork, he sighed as I looked at him curiously. Will someone just tell me what’s happening already?

‘Your Mom got offered a job that can bring a lot of opportunities for her, Casey.’

‘Yeah, I gathered that much. So will someone just tell me the point already?’ I was starting to get annoyed. Jeez, if you want to tell me something, just get to the point!

‘I accepted the job, Casey.’ She said, her face taking up a worried expression.

‘Oh, so where is it?’ I was thinking maybe Washington DC or Hawaii or something. It can’t be that bad right? One month, tops, right?

‘China.’

I started choking on my food by then. Their eyes widened as they got up to pat me on the back. I was still spluttering and coughing when it went down but that didn’t get the shock to go away.

China?!

‘I took a job at China, Casey dear. And the job requires me to stay there for a year – or more if they like me.’

She’s going to China for a year or more.

This has to be a joke.

But it isn’t.

‘And this is where I come in,’ Dad offered, smiling encouragingly. ‘You’re coming to stay with me so I can keep an eye on you.’

‘Where is it, exactly? Where do you live?’

‘Um, not far...’ he said nervously.

‘Where?’

‘New York.’

So Mom is going to China for a year (or more) and she’s leaving me with Dad who lives in New York, right on the other side of the country.

‘When?’ I asked.

‘Today’s Wednesday, so you have two days to say good bye to your friends. I’m leaving on Sunday so you’re leaving on Saturday.’

So Mom is going to China for a year (or more!) and she’s leaving me with Dad who lives in the other side of the country. And I’m leaving on Saturday, two days away.

And she tells me now.

‘Are you kidding me?’ I was on the verge of tears now, angry tears mind you. ‘You’re going to China for a year and you tell me now? I only have two days to say good bye? Thanks, Mom. Thanks a lot.’ I spat.

She was pale in the face when I excused myself from the table and ran upstairs to the kind embrace of my room, my sanctuary.

I can’t believe this is happening to me.

:) thanks.