I drove fast back home.

The sun was just at the wrong level, blinding my sight, but I didn't slow down and finally I parked in the familiar driveway.

What would I be walking into? I really hoped it wouldn't be a drunken dad crying, because I didn't think I could handle that.

The very few times I had seen my father cry, it wasn't something easy to see, because, for one thing, my dad didn't deserve that, and also because my dad wasn't meant to cry. My dad was meant to smile and laugh and make jokes.

In a way, I wanted to walk slowly to the door, but my legs almost ran to it, because I needed to be there.

I didn't even have to open the door, Tyler did it for me. He had probably been waiting.

"How bad is it?" I whispered to him, slipping out of my shoes.

"He's down to half the bottle now and he's at the tape from our trip to Cocoa Beach when Annabelle tried to convince that surfer that she was just as cool because she rocked at snowboarding, which we all know she didn't, but that's not the point right now," Ty trailed walking slowly by my side towards the living room where I could hear the voices of all my family.

"Come on, Mom! Come swimming! You know you're the best," I was whining.

"Go with the kid Heather! Show all these young ones how we do it," my father laughed, behind the camera.

"Lexi, you are blocking my sun. You and your shadow can go to... oooh cute guy. I'm outta here," Anna said and then I could see the screen of the TV and I could see my sister with her ebony hair and perfect tan, brushing the sand off her legs and walking towards whoever she had seen.

"Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, please, Mom, Mom, Mom, please, please, Mom..." Tyler was repeating over and over again beside my mother who was lying on her beach towel, wearing the smile I hadn't seen on her face for so long.

My eyes teared up.

"Alright, alright kids. Come on. First that gets in the water can throw your father in the ocean," she yelled and then ran on the beach, my brother and I with her.

"Heather," my father yelled, laughing.

I could feel a lump in my throat.

Why was he watching that? Why was he scratching the wound? He was just making things worse.

"Dad?" I asked and walked towards him.

"I remember that year we had arrived around two in the morning, and all the motels had no vacancy signs. We couldn't find anywhere to go and parked in the nice road close to the ocean, with the big house probably worth millions."

"And Ty had to pee so he went on the million dollars properties, beside a palm tree and you follow his lead few minutes later," I continued smiling, while my dad paused the tape.

"And then the cops arrived," Ty smiled lightly.

"Five minutes earlier and I would have been arrested for public urinating or something like that," my father smiled sadly.

I walked up to the recliner and sat on it, looking at my father all the while.

"My brother called. Preston died," my father whispered and then I saw the bottle of Jack on the floor, and the glass in his hand.

Oh Dad.

"It's not like we didn't expect it. We had been waiting for it to happen for years now, and of course we weren't as close as when we were kids anymore, but," my father trailed but then stopped speaking.

Preston, my dad's cousin, had gotten HIV during the 1980's epidemic, and was diagnosed with AIDS four years ago. Preston was the sort of hippy everybody's man kind of guy and hadn't been careful enough, and now, well he wasn't anymore.

It was a shame, because apparently, he was really talented. He was an artist. He lived in New York. I didn't know that much about him. My father didn't really bring us to visit him. But I knew my father cared about him, and that really wasn't something you wanted to happen.

Death wasn't an easy thing to deal with. And Dad already had hard things to deal with.

"At least he's not suffering anymore," I whispered to him.

"Yeah, the man's got it easy now," my father snorted, and I could see his hand almost hitching to just grab the bottle and bring it to his lips.

And what did he mean by that. Oh please, please Dad, that wasn't the answer.

Would I have to hide his shoelaces again?

"Dad, I know it's sad but, we were expecting it, and I'm sure he wouldn't want to see you sulk like that," I told him, even though I knew it wasn't the right thing to say, because there was no such thing as the right thing.

"You know, it could have been me, I could have been the one in his situation, if it hadn't been for... I could be the one we'd buried next week, but even when I think of that, of how lucky I am to have my health and not be dying, I can't even find it in me to be happy about it. Maybe I'd rather be dying," my father whispered.

Oh god.

No.

"But we're here for you, Dad," Ty said beside me, still standing up. "We're not going anywhere."

"I know kid, that's why I feel so bad about feeling like this," Dad answered, looking at his empty palm.

I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what to do.

I had used up all my pep words after mom left. I was lacking new ones to use.

And maybe my father needed more than his kids right now.

"And I wonder if we're ever going to move past it, past everything I mean," my father trailed and then I was hit by Blake's words he had said on the deck.

"But we don't move past things like that, they just become a part of us," I told him and then added my own, "And maybe we'll just learn from all of this, know what really matters, what are our priorities."

I didn't even make sense anymore.

I was tired of this anguish feeling all the time.

I wanted the carefree feeling again. For one second, I wanted to feel the way I felt when I was with Blake.

"We're taking everything way too seriously, aren't we?" my father whispered and drank from his glass.

"No, we just got hurt a lot and now we were just getting up on our feet and we've been kicked again," I whispered back.

"You're too serious for your own good kid," Dad sighed.

"Don't worry about me Dad. I'll be alright."

"I will too, I will," he answered me and stared at the screen, my mom, brother and mine's back frozen on it.

I turned my head to look at Tyler, and I saw him, saw his sad eyes, and didn't know what to say again.

How had we managed to sulk so fast?

Oh yeah, death, right.

I thought about the fact that if Dad was with a friend right now, he wouldn't feel so down, and they might have more comforting words for him.

"You know you haven't seen Anthony in a little while, maybe that could be good for you right now," I offered to my dad.

Alex's father was close with mine. I was sure he'd know what to say to cheer dad, say the words I was missing.

"You think he'd want to hang around me right now?" my father snorted.

"Please Dad, you know he's your friend. You're there for him. He's there for you," I trailed remembering Alex's shocked father walking through our door after his son's confession.

"You trying to hand the problem to someone else?" my father said, one of the corners of his mouth slowly rising.

"This isn't a problem, it's our life," Ty whispered beside me and I looked at him, and saw something I didn't see often in his face, sorrow.

Maybe we really were taking this too seriously, like my mom leaving was worse than dad's cousin dying.

Did we all see things the wrong way. Did I see things the wrong way?

Anthony came to our place not long after and then they went in his study and talked.

Ty and I sat in the kitchen at the counter, looking at our food, barely touching it.

It wasn't so much the death that affected us here. I assumed it was the tapes, and it was our mom leaving that came crashing back in our faces.

We weren't as over it as we had thought we were.

Hell, had we ever been over it? There was no being over here.

The evening was pretty quiet. Tyler wasn't speaking, I wasn't speaking and Dad was still with Anthony.

Somehow, we couldn't open the TV because it meant we had to take the tapes out, and I couldn't draw either, or read, or do anything else, so I just sat on the couch looking at nothing.

When I had enough, I went to my room, took my shower and was about to go in my bed but I heard a muffled sound in Ty's room.

I walked to it and pushed his door and saw him lying in his bed, his back facing me.

His shoulders were shaking.

He was crying.

"Oh Ty," I breathed and then I curled up against him and wrapped my arms around his waist.

"Why can't things just go back to the way they were? Why did Mom need to leave?" he said, and then his voice broke, "Why can't things go back to the way they were?" he whispered so faintly but I heard it.

"I wish I could make everything alright for you Ty," I whispered to him and rubbed his back, holding my tears.

But for one second, I thought about the fact that I didn't want to go back, I didn't want things to go back to the way they were.

How odd?

___________

Hello, hello! This is a heavy chapter. I hope you're not feeling too down after reading it.

Thanks for sticking around. It's a been uploaded a little late, sorry, so I won't ramble for too long.

If you have any questions about this chapter, you can leave them here.

Otherwise, the live reading should be on Sunday, but I'm not a 100% sure what's my schedule this weekend. I think Eve wants me to drive her around like she's Miss Daisy. So I'll put the time for the livestream on my story on instagram, at instagram.com/kaygiard