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Long weekends were the best weekends. Having an extra day to do whatever you wanted was always nice, and on this day all you wanted was to go home. Usually you wouldn’t be in such a rush– taking at least a few hours to spend with your friends before making the drive back to Coast City– but the week, despite being short, had been a rough one. One too many social flubs, a less than stellar mark on a project you’d thought was one of your best yet (though your professor apparently didn’t), and your craving for chicken soup made with your late grandmother’s recipe was enough to get you up and out the door before the sun fully rose.
The drive home wasn’t too bad; not many cars were on the road this early, but you didn’t mind, it just meant you didn’t have to worry about someone switching lanes without their turn signals. You tap your fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the music coming from the speakers, smiling softly to yourself as your dad’s trailer comes into view. It’s only when you park next to his truck that you remember just how early it is, momentarily debating on whether or not to get out of the car. Before you can make up your mind, you spot your dad looking out the window. You wave and get out of your car, greeting your dad with a hug the minute he opens the door.
“Hi!”
“Hey, kid,” Hal says, patting your back. “I thought you were getting here later?”
“Originally, yeah, but I thought I’d surprise you.”
The trailer feels different from the last time you’d been in it, neater somehow, despite there being more things inside. Your eyes quickly find the photo of the two of you when you were younger– your father in his flight suit as the two of you stood in front of the plane he flew at Ferris air– and it puts you more at ease.
“I don’t think your uncle’s up yet,” Hal says as he produces a box of cookies from the cupboard.
“Wanna play something while we wait?”
Your gaze falls to the pack of cards on the table. “Yeah, sure.”
The two of you sit down; you grab a cookie and watch as he gets out the cards (he’s always been the better shuffler out of the two of you). You don’t miss the slight tremble of his hands as he mixes the cards; the frustrated curl of his brow when he doesn’t cut the deck as cleanly as he used to. The sight makes your half-eaten cookie feel like a rock settling in your stomach.
“Do–” you pause when your voice cracks, taking a deep breath and swallowing the lump in your throat before trying again. “Do you think Uncle Jim will make grandma’s chicken soup if I ask?”
–
It’s the final day of your long weekend– at least, it’s supposed to be– and, as is your tradition, you’re seated in a diner booth across from your father, eating lunch while chattering away.
“So,” you say, shifting in your seat. “I was thinking I’d stay another day. Uncle Jim and Aunt Sue already said it’s fine with them.”
Hal raises an eyebrow at you mid chew. “Don’t you have class tomorrow?”
“Just the one.” You shrug. “It’s not like I’ll miss much. Besides, I’d rather spend some more time with you,”
“I don’t want you to get behind. You’ve gotta keep up if you wanna stay smarter than me,” he jokes, throwing a french fry on your plate.
“Well, I don’t think I’m smarter than you yet, but I’m getting there. And don’t worry about it, dad.” You give him what you hope is a reassuring smile. “I got this.”
Your father says nothing for a moment, popping another fry into his mouth before nodding. “Alright.”
–
Your long weekend’s become even longer. One extra day turned to two, and if you were lucky enough, could hopefully be stretched to three. You knew anything more than that would be pushing your luck, you were already one too many classes behind anyway, and staying longer wouldn’t do anything other than damage your grades and stress out your father. He’d already had enough stress in his life, running around space to save planets and whatnot all while worrying about you back on Earth. The last thing you wanted was for him to start worrying about you at school.
So you took advantage of the little time you had, spending as much of it with your father as possible. Today you were enjoying a nice walk on the beach.
“Look’s cold,” You comment, watching the water roll in.
Hal turns to you, grabbing your wrist with a firm but gentle grip, the same way he did when you were little and wanted to be tossed into the water. “Why don’t you test it and let me know?”
“Nope, not that brave!” You twist free and the two of you chuckle, though your laughter fizzles out as you notice the deepened laugh lines on your father’s face.
Your reaction makes Hal pause and take a good long look at you. He thought the reason you’d been sticking around longer had something to do with trouble at school. It was becoming clearer to him now that the problem was much closer to home. “What’s going on with you?” He asks, eyes clouding with worry while his voice remains steady; care for you lingering beneath it all.
“Why would something be going on with me?”
“Usually you’re all packed and ready to go when we have lunch. That was two days ago.” He gestures vaguely from you to the late afternoon sun casting its glow on the sand and sea. “You’re still here.”
You let out a half-hearted laugh. “You trying to get rid of me?”
Hal shakes his head. “If it were up to me you’d be staying as long as you want. But you’ve got school, and Jim’s starting to worry he’ll never get his couch back from you.”
“Maybe I’ll take it back to school with me,” you joke.
You both go quiet then, the sound of the waves crashing into the shore filling the silence, the choppiness of the water reminiscent of your own thoughts.
“Things are different.” You say after a while. “School’s great and all, I just… I feel like I should be here.”
Your father raises an eyebrow, a somewhat displeased look on his face. “You don’t have to worry about me, y’know.”
“Okay, Dad? You literally live in a trailer right near the edge of a cliff. That’s actually incredibly worry-worthy.”
“What I’m saying is”–Hal nudges your side with his elbow–“I’m not some old geezer.” He ignores the way your eyes dart to his greying hair and back to the ground as he speaks. “You don’t have to hang around looking after me.”
“I know,” You reply, a poignant smile crossing your face. “I just like spending time with you.”