The rest of that night, the night I found out about my grandfather,
went by
in a blur. I vaguely remember Josh being there, holding my had and
comforting
me. I think I cried a little bit, I’m not sure. I knew had I had to
go back
to Mississippi, but I really didn’t want to. I didn’t want to
face my family.
Even if my dad -had- told me he loved me.
However, you can’t put off the inevitable, and the next day, I
found myself
on a plane to Jackson.
Alone.
I had asked Josh to come, begged even, but he had told me that I
needed to
get things with my family sorted out, and that his presence
wouldn’t help
with that. I didn’t care, I wished that he could be with me because
I knew
things would go bad with or without him. And at least with him I knew
I had
someone.
"Flight 145 is now landing in Jackson, Mississippi. The weather
conditions
are fairly cloudy and very humid, with temperatures ranging from 76-
80
degrees. Please wait until the plane has come to a complete stop
before
removing any overhead items, and exit the plane in an orderly
fashion. Thank
you for flying Concord and have a nice day."
God, did they memorize those speeches out of little handbooks or
something?
As soon as the plane landed, I got my carry on bag and exited the
plane,
walking down the extended hallway into the gate, not expecting anyone
to be
there.
I was shocked to see my dad, a lopsided grin on his face. I bit my
bottom lip
and approached him cautiously, not really sure what was going to
happen
between us.
"Hey Lance," he said.
"Hi Dad," I told him, shifting from foot to foot. He reached out
towards me,
and it was all I could do not to cry out as we embraced, holding each
other
so tightly I thought my oxygen supply would become cut off.
We pulled away and I saw tears in his eyes, and I knew I had them in
mine
because I could feel them.
"How have you been?" he asked. "Okay," I told him.
"How’s JC?"
It made me so happy to hear him ask about Josh, that I couldn’t
help but
smile when I said, "He’s good. Recovering nicely from his surgery."
"Yeah, he sounded good when I talked to him on the phone. I wish he
could’ve
come out here, I wanted to apologize in person for acting a little...
you
know."
"You talked to him on the phone?" I asked, confused.
"Yeah, he called me to tell me that you were coming down, and that
you
wouldn’t have anyone to pick you up, and he just wanted to make
sure someone
was there. We talked for a little bit, and here I am."
I nodded, still trying to get over how incredibly cool my dad was
being. If
this was an act, a dream, or both, I didn’t ever want it to end.
*
We piled my suitcase and carry on bag into my dad’s Jeep Cherokee,
and I
climbed in the passenger seat, pulling on my seatbelt while he
started the
car. Country music blared from the radio, and I couldn’t hold in my
grin. The
best music, Country.
"So, um, Dad... how did Grandfather die?" I asked tentively, almost
afraid of
the reaction I would get.
"Heart attack," Dad said, and his voice took on a monotone sound. "I
told him
he needed to stop eating all those fatty foods, with all that
cholesterol, I
told him he needed to be active, needed to exercise, but he didn’t
listen.
That’s what killed him."
I was quiet for a moment. "I’m sorry. He didn’t deserve to die."
"Son, the way I see it is that when you die, it’s just that God
needs you in
Heaven more than other people need you on Earth. If he wasn’t meant
to die,
it wouldn’t have happened, or something would’ve changed it."
And that made me think. Maybe my grandfather really was meant to die.
Maybe
he didn’t die before, because JC was going to live again, and then
he would
die because he was supposed to. Still, I couldn’t help but think
that just
because JC wasn’t meant to die at the beginning of March didn’t
mean that he
wasn’t meant to die in December.
I decided to take my mind off that topic and asked Dad something else
that
had been bothering me. "What should I expect Dad? I mean, when we get
to the
house?"
"Only your mother, myself, Stacy, and Ford know. Your mother may be
acting
irrational about all this, but she’s not stupid. If she had told
the whole
family, it would’ve gotten out to the press somehow. And she
doesn’t want to
see your career ruined, no matter how stupid she’s being."
I looked at my father in shock. He had sounded so passionate, and he
had said
my mother was the wrong one. He really did still love me, he really
did
accept me.
"So Stacy and Ford, are they, you know..."
Dad laughed. "They’re fine with it. Stacy is even proclaiming that
she knew
all along, that you and JC were meant for each other."
I smiled. "Do you believe that Dad?"
He returned my smile. "Yeah, I think I do."
*
I took a deep breath and got out of the car, following my dad up the
front
stairs and to the door of our house. "Does it sound really irrational
if I
say I’m really scared?" I asked, swallowing the lump that was
forming in my
throat.
Dad shook his head and opened the door. "No, it’s not son. Come on,
though,
I’m here for you. And so are Stacy and Ford. You’re not alone."
He gave me a
reassuring smile and I tried to return it the best that I could.
So maybe I wasn’t alone after all. I just continued to tell myself
that as I
walked into the house, having no idea what was going to happen next.
*
