Just Friends

My mother passed away a couple days after my sophomore year of high school and that's when a new lifestyle was introduced to me. And I hated it.

"I love you Dakota, please text and let me know when you land. Please?" Emma pleaded. She hugged me so tight I couldn't breathe.

I felt the burn in my throat as I pushed down tears, Emma was my best friend. "Em, I won't forget." It was my turn to get checked by security and that was as far as she could go with me. I said, "I love you, stay out of trouble." And I let go.

She tucked her short hair behind her ear. "Woo, girl you're going to make me cry." And she smiled sadly as I looked back one last time and waved. We've been friends since I was four. I had moved from Nebraska because as my mom once told me, 'your father was a scummy man who didn't care.' And so, I don't know much else but that.

When I was approved by security, I followed the signs to my plane's gate and waited until I could board. And once I did, I started the short flight to my old hometown.

When I reached the pickup area, I saw my Grandpa Reed's pickup and threw my couple bags in the back seat before reaching the passenger side. "Hi Grandpa!" I gave him a quick side hug before he started driving.

"Hi baby, how was your flight?" His voice was gruff, and he seemed older. More tired than the last time I saw him. Which was a month before my mother had passed.

"It was okay, I napped for half of it." It was a dry response. I was tired and wasn't exactly excited to go back to a place I wasn't used to. I never visited it. Grandpa only nodded his head as he got out of airport traffic and started the drive. I looked for something to say. "How long is the drive?"

He didn't respond immediately, I guessed he was trying to come up with the answer. "depending on traffic and weather, probably about five or six hours." He patted my knee and by the look on my face he added, "We can stop for food." And chuckled.

I only smiled. He was right, it did take about five and a half hours to reach my hometown and by that time it was about ten p.m. since my plane was scheduled later.

When we pulled into a long dirt road driveway that lead to a large farmhouse. I wondered if we were at the right place but when I saw the mailbox and big sign over the driveway with the last name McCoy, I knew that we were here. At my father's house. I didn't get out immediately, what would I say? How do I react, or respond? My Grandpa must have noticed my worry and put his hand on my knee and squeezed.

"It'll be okay Kota. Your father is probably just as nervous as you are." His voice was strained, and I could tell that it wasn't just him he was talking about. He was nervous too. Nervous to leave me with a man he knew that I didn't.

I left it at that and got out, leaving my bags in the back. I didn't take much with me. Only the things that really meant something to me from my mom's house. The thought of her made my chest hurt and stomach tight and suddenly, I wanted to cry. That's when Grandpa put his arm around mine and led me up the porch steps. They creaked under my feet and a couple seconds later the porch lights turned on and the wooden door opened. We were only halfway up the steps and I suddenly felt sick to my stomach I was so nervous. The screendoor blurred out his face a bit but when he opened it, I felt a pang in my heart. He seemed so familiar and when he hugged me, he was warm. It took me a second to lean into the hug but when I did, he hugged me harder.

"Dakota," he breathed into my neck. "You're home." He seemed to choke on his words, like he was holding in tears. I knew that feeling all too well, but I just let mine flow. His hug felt so familiar and I didn't realize that I had missed this feeling. A father's hug.

When he finally let go, he cupped my cheeks into his hands and looked at me, observing my face. I had forgotten my Grandpa was standing by me and I guess my father did too because when he cleared his throat, we both pulled apart and looked at him. I suddenly felt uncomfortable and wanted to get back in the pickup.

"Jason, good to see you." Grandpa nodded in his direction.

"Hi Reed, it's been a while." There was a pause. Then he sighed and ran a hand through his hair and stopped at the back of his neck. "I'm sorry for your loss." I could barely hear what he had said. He cleared his throat and dropped his hand before looking at me again. "Both of you." And I believed he really was sorry by the look in his face and I got a weird feeling it was his loss too.

"I'm sure you are boy." Grandpa said but he didn't sound sincere. The air started to feel thicker and there was a seemingly long pause. I wanted to leave. Or go inside, I didn't care at this point I just felt awkward.

"I'm sorry, come in." My father opened the door for us and let us go in first before he said, "Dakota, do you have any bags I can grab for you?" He seemed scared suddenly.

Grandpa was the one who answered for me since I didn't speak up right away. "Yes Jason, in the back." And the door shut. When he left to go get them, we walked past the foyer and stairs and opened a door to the living room and sat on a rustic looking couch. It creaked when I sat down.

"Grandpa, do you not like him? You seem tense now that we're here." I wasn't sure what I said was put together the way I wanted but I got a straight answer.

"No, he is a fine man, hardworking. But he let you and your mother go without a fight and I find that cowardly and now he wants to step up and be the father you've always needed." He shook his head. I slumped further into the couch and rubbed my eyes. I was so tired, and sad.

It didn't take long for him to come back in with my bags. I heard the door shut and my bags drop on what I'm guessing were the stairs. Then the door to the living room opened but I didn't look up. I was so hot and uncomfortable. Will it always be this way?

"Can I get you guys anything to drink? I've got beer in the fridge, Reed if you'd like one. And some tea or water Dakota?" He sat in the recliner facing across from me. I only shook my head no, chewing at the inside of my cheek.

"No thank you. I better get going soon. I've got to get up early and take Michelle to this volunteer thing." Grandpa waved his hand and clapped them both on his knees, pushing himself up. I then noticed his beard, how it had gotten thinner and longer. Just at his chest, and his short ponytail. He was thinner, beer belly still evident but arms frailer. I was worried then that I might lose him too soon and my heart hurt.

I stood up to hug him goodbye and when he had, the silence between my father and I was thick and loud. I wanted to cry again. What do I say?

"Let me show you to your room, if you'd like." He scratched his scruff and I took the time to notice just what he had looked like. Tall and very fit. And his hair was dark brown and kind of long but pushed back out of his face and suddenly he looked more like my brother, I imagine at least if I had one. Very young but tired and rough looking. A handsome man at most. Not the man I imagined-old, fat and mean. My mother had never shown me any pictures.

"Okay." That's all I said before he led me up the stairs and to a dark room with a big bed and a stand-alone mirror in the corner facing the bed. There were many windows, all with forest green curtains. I noticed right away my room overlooked the backyard where the barn was. It was pretty.

He set my bags down by the closet next to the mirror and cleared his throat. "It isn't a lot, but this room was built for you when you were little for when you grew older. Your favorite color was green and purple." He had a small smile. Like he was recalling a memory.

I noticed the bed then, the blankets looked heavy and warm. And they were purple with knit green into it. I said, "Still is my favorite colors." And I forced a smile. I don't know why but I felt like I needed to comfort him. And I guess I did because he relaxed, hands going into his pocket.

"Well good." He sounded happy. There was a pause before he added, "Oh, I turned your nursery into an art room for you. I heard you had taken up all sorts of arts in middle school and high school."

How had he heard of that? "Oh, yea, I did. Thank you." Was thank you the right thing to say? I wasn't sure but it must have pleased him.

"Of course, if you at all need anything let me know. It's getting late so I'll let you settle in and we can talk more in the morning. Goodnight Dakota." He smiled as I said it back, but he turned back around and twitched his nose before saying, "You've grown into a beautiful young lady, look just like your mom did in high school." Then closed the door behind him.

I sat on my bed then and smiled. It's only been a month since she passed but it still hurt. But those words meant a lot, since I felt like I looked nothing like her. She's always been so beautiful, and I missed her. I turned the light off and climbed into bed and texted Em how things had gone. I didn't stay up long enough to read her response. The bed was comfortable, just like mine at my old home.