Chapter 17 - The Bacon Breakfast
On the third anniversary of the phone call, Dad invited us to breakfast.
6:30 a.m.
Exactly.
Vanessa arrived first.
I arrived carrying bacon.
Harold arrived uninvited.
Again.
Dad had arranged the table exactly like that morning.
Coffee.
Eggs.
Toast.
Sugar bowl.
Bacon.
Then he placed his phone in the center.
“What are you doing?” Vanessa asked.
Dad looked at her.
“Waiting.”
“For what?”
“For someone to announce my death.”
Vanessa covered her face.
“Oh, Dad.”
Harold laughed so hard he nearly spilled his coffee.
Eventually Vanessa laughed too.
That mattered.
The worst morning of our lives had become something we could remember without being controlled by it.
Dad raised his coffee.
“To being alive.”
We raised ours.
“To being alive.”
Then Vanessa looked at me.
“And to answering your phone.”
I smiled.
May you like
“That too.”
---
