Enough

I crept down the hallway and sat and the old wooden kitchen table. The unstable legs creaked from under me as my weight settled onto them.
   "Good morning, sunshine," my mother offered without looking at me as she fiddled with the coffee pot.
   "Morning, mom." I pushed the opened bills and papers out of my way on the table to make a place to eat. There was so much clutter on the tabletop you could barely even realize there actually was a table underneath it.
   "Your father's coming here today."
Those five simple words sent a cool shiver down my spine and wiped the color from my face.
   "Why?" I returned with a hesitant tone.
   "He wants to see you and your sister. He says he has something to tell you two. I don't know, he didn't really say much before he hung up the phone on me."
I stared out the window at the bleak, gray sky promising a storm. How ironic that it felt as though the same weather was occuring in my stomach.
I stood from the table, forgetting the fact that I hadn't even eaten breakfast yet and headed toward my bedroom. I closed my wooden door, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I glanced at my messy bed and saw my cell phone tangled in the sheets. I picked it up and scrolled through the few contacts I had programmed in. Aaron lit up the screen as soon as I was about to press his name for a new text message. Good morning, library? I hit reply and typed, Not yet, could you come over? A second later the screen lit up with Sure. I flipped my phone closed and stared at the wall. Why was my dad coming here? And what did he have to tell me? I figured I should wake up my sister, feeling the need to prepare her for whatever was about to occur.
   "Trace," I whispered as I gently shook her awake. "Tracey, wake up."
She breathed heavily and opened her eyes, allowing the overwhelming crystal blue color to pierce through me.
   "Hi," I said as I smiled from her simple beauty. She didn't say anything in return, just smiled back and streched herself awake.
I met her in the bathroom where we'd brush our teeth as a team. We usually did this before school on weekdays, but since I needed to tell her about dad I gigured I'd join her on this Saturday morning.
   "Dad's coming over today," I said gently as if I'd said it any different way it'd set off a bomb or something.
   "Why?" She questioned, not really understanding why he didn't live with us in the first place, being as she was only eight.
   "He has something to tell us. Mom told me. Is that okay?" She looked up at me instead of through the mirror as she previously was.
   "Yes. Why wouldn't it be?"
   "I don't know," I said quizzically, "I just wanted to make sure you're okay with it." She smiled, which sent a feeling of ease through my veins.
   "I'm okay," she assured, "are you?"
   "Of course," I said with a smile, "now finish brushing your teeth."

Aaron knocked on the back door leading into the kitchen and continued to walk right in since this was basically his second home.
   "Good morning, Ms. Andrews, how are you today?"
   "I'm as good as it's gonna get, Aaron, and yourself?" My mother liked Aaron. She knew I liked him, too, and that alone was enough approval for her.
   "I'm great any day as long as it isn't a school day." My mother chuckled and took her mug of coffee and newspaper into the living room adjacent to us. Aaron helped himself to the refrigerator before even saying anything to me. I sat at the creaky kitchen table across from the fridge. Our kitchen was small and quaint. The stove, sink and fridge all rested in one corner while the table and china cabinet were placed in the other. We didn't have much room in our house for excessive items but then again, we didn't really need any.
   "Are you okay?" Aaron asked as he sat next to me on an equally squeaky chair with a glass of milk in hand.
   "My dad's coming over today," I replied with a sigh. He didn't say anything at first. Just stared at me.
   "Is that... okay?" Aaron knew all about my dad. He knew about the divorce and the alcohol abuse and the... physical abuse as well. He was there for all of it. He was there during the nights my parents stayed up fighting and I crawled through my window to escape to his house. Aaron was my safe-haven. My shoulder to lean on. My best friend.
   "I don't know. My mother says he has something to tell my sister and me. Why is he coming here? It's been four years. And the way my mother told me... she was so nonchalant, like she didn't even care. Isn't she nervous or angry or... something?"
Aaron sighed as he placed his strong, warm hand on mine. His cool green eyes stared deep into mine like he was trying to read my mind. The structure of his face was perfect. His thick, dark eyebrows enhanced his glassy eyes in the right way while his boyish, beachy hair grazed his forehead. His strong jaw clenched at the sight of my distraught face and his supple lips tightened as he formed the words to comfort me.
   "I don't know, Anna," he started, "I don't know what he wants. I wish I did and I wish I could help you but there's not much I can do until you know why he's coming."
Although he didn't have any true insight on how to help me, just his low, calm voice soothed me into an almost dream as it enveloped me. I looked into his eyes and then down at his hand which was still grasping mine. I scooted my chair over next to him which I'm surprised didn't force it to collapse to pieces and threw my arms around his strong neck.
   "Thank you," I whispered into his ear as I embraced him tightly.
   "For wh-" he began as a knock interrupted us from the kitchen door.
Oh god, it's him. I thought as I broke the bond between the two of us. "You should go," I said bluntly as I stared at the sillhouette behind the wooden door. He didn't say anything, he just understood and got up from the chair. He walked towards the living room to go out the front door to avoid confrontation with my father. At least I think so, I couldn't break the stare I had with the unmoving figure outside.
   "Call me later, okay?" he offered as he exited my house. "Okay," I said blankly in return.
My mother entered the kitchen and headed toward the door.
   "Wait," I blurted as I changed my stare to her, "let me get Tracey." I got up and walked toward my sister's bedroom hearing my mother open the door to the man I forgot existed.
   "Trace, daddy's here." She closed the book she was reading and her eyes lit up. She ran towards the kitchen, exited to see him as if he had never left. She was much too young to understand why our family was so broken, so this was like a happy family reunion to her.
   "Anna," he said almost shocked as I entered the kitchen. It didn't feel like my kitchen anymore. It felt like he owned it. Like this was his room just from standing at the door.
   "Hi," was all I could choke out as I tried to retain my calm.
   "Stuart, would you like some coffee?" my mother offered as she walked toward the counter.
   "Sure, Rose, that'd be great." Hearing him say my mother's name was so strange to me, it was almost uncomfrotable.
   "Daddy, I haven't seen you in a while. Do you miss me?" My sister was so charming, even for an eight-year-old.
   "Yes, hunny, I miss you everyday." Seeing him treat my sister in a fatherly way was hard to watch. He used to treat us like that however long ago. But then he up and left. And he never attempted to treat us that way again. Until now.
   "What do you have to tell us?" The words escaped me without giving my brain time to stop them. He looked at me in the same way again, almost shocked, with a hesitation to answer.
   "We should sit down and catch up first," he interjected, trying to pretend like the last four years never happened.
   "No, thanks," I said - what was I doing? "I'd like to make this as short and painless as possible." I can't believe I had just said that, and apparently, either could my mother since she completely stopped what she was doing to turn and glare at me in awe. My father rose up from his knees and looked as if he were towering over me, even though he was across the room.
   "Okay," he said, almost defeated, "but we should really sit."
My sister happily propped herself up onto a creaky chair and I sat too, my legs unknowingly allowing me to move. My mother placed a cup of coffee in front of my father who sat across the round dinner table from my sister and me. She then exited the room which surprised and worried me, not knowing I'd be without her during this confrontation.
   "Well," he said, clearing his throat, "I'm getting remarried, and I'd like you two to be in the wedding."
I sat, shocked, numb to the situation in front of me. Did my father who abandoned me for the past four years just ask me to be in his wedding to another woman?
   "Excuse me?" I said a little too loudly.
   "I just think-" he began before I cut him off, knowingly this time, not wanting to hear what he had to say.
   "Are you honestly telling me this right now, with my eight-year-old sister in the room?" I said accusingly.
   "Well I'm asking you both to-" I cut him off again.
   "No, you're not asking. You're telling us that you're getting remarried to another woman. After four years of abandonment, you're telling me that you've found a new family? A whole new family after you abused ours for years?!"
   "That's enough!" He shouted as he stood up, almost knocking the chair over. I shuddered, not expecting him to erupt like that and then composing myself quickly, knowing I had to get this man out of my house without a bruise on myself... or him.
   "You're right, that is enough," I agreed, "I think it's about time you leave this house and don't ever come back again, ever." I was standing surprisingly tall, unbreakable, not allowing the fear and panic to puncture me as it had all those years ago. My mother entered the room after hearing the sudden noise and stared at my cold, stoic face with panic. My father's stature faultered as his shoulders loosened and his face drooped. He turned towards my sister and breathed in about to say something to her.
   "Don't," I interrupted, "don't say a word to her. She doesn't deserve that, and neither do you." He looked at me. His face defeated. For the first time, I had stood up to him, and he realized it. "Okay," was all he could say. He turned to leave the house, but before closing the door behind him turned to my mom and said two words that sent shivers down my spine.
   "I'm sorry."
We all remained still, waiting for him to shut the door and leave our lives forever. As the lock clicked into place a calm swept over us. I let my strong shell crumble as I turned toward my mother. She stared at me for a second, and then practically fell into my arms, hugging me tighter than ever.
   "I'm sorry," she offered, but I couldn't accept it. This wasn't her fault. It never was.
   "Don't be," I said. I released her from my grip and looked at my sister. She still looked just as carefree and jovial as ever. I let a warm smile slip across my face as I winked at her. I turned toward my room where I shut my door slowly. I picked up my phone and clicked on the same name as always, Aaron.
   "Hello?" He answered.
   "It's over," I said as a warmth spread through my veins. For the first time, those words meant something.