“I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted your day to end either.”
Just when April goes to sign off, movement is caught in the background. Suddenly, a blonde is on screen, launching herself at Mack’s chest. I recognize that hair immediately, and I gasp in response. Mack seems stunned but doesn’t do anything to dislodge Alison from his chest. “Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re okay!”
And then she kisses him.
Hard.
On the lips.
On national television.
And I think I die a little bit inside.
***
“Hey, baby girl,” Dad says as I enter the kitchen on Tuesday night. “What are you doing here?” he asks, smiling as he fries up some fish in the skillet.
“I sold a few more photos to that magazine I was telling you about, so I thought I’d do some more developing,” I tell him, setting my bag on the old, worn table. I glance at the table and see some sports show on, a recap of Saturday night’s race. I quickly glance away.
“He’s okay, you know,” he whispers, those all-knowing eyes watching me.
I nod. “I heard.”
“From him?”
Shaking my head, I reply, “No, I watched part of the race.”
Dad takes his fish out of the skillet and places it on a paper towel-covered plate. He turns off the heat and gives me his full attention. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” I say, taking a seat at the table.
He comes over to join me and reaches for my hand. “What do you want?”
“What?” I ask, confused by his question.
“Out of life, Lena. What do you want?”
My throat constricts as that familiar wetness burns my eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just waits me out. “I don’t know,” I respond, even though that’s not the right answer.
I do know.
Dad clears his throat and says, “Listen to me, Lena. This is the only life you get. You have one chance to find your happiness and make it stick for however long God gives it to you.” His eyes turn sad. “I was fortunate enough to find my happiness, pumpkin. Your mom was the best thing to happen to me, besides you. I lost her too soon, and I don’t want that for you. If being here, in Brenton, is what you truly want, than I’m behind you one-hundred-percent, but something tells me, that’s not where your heart truly lies.”
I blink back the tears, but they fall anyway.
“…I just didn’t have good grip,” Mack’s voice echoes through the room.
Our attention is pulled to the television on the counter as the broadcaster agrees, “Good grip is important.”
Mack’s smile is small, but mighty. “I’m not just talking about on the track, Bob. The great Colton Donavan once said to me, grip is necessary on the track, but even more so, off. Not only was I missing it at Long Beach, I was missing it in my personal life too. That magical grip that holds it all together. It reaches into your soul and bonds you to another person. That’s what I was missing Saturday night, Bob. My grip. My bond. My soul.”
“He’s talking about you, you know,” Dad says, chuckling.
I look across the table. “You think?” I ask, hope starting to fill the aching hole in my chest.
“I’m certain, Lena Christine.”
I glance back at the television, only to find it cut to a commercial break, but deep down, I know he’s right. He’s who my soul calls to. Without him, there is no happiness, and that’s not what I truly want for this life. I want to be happy, smiling, and full of love.
For Mack.
And Oliver.
I get up from the chair, press a kiss to my dad’s forehead, and say, “Thank you, Daddy.” My arms wrap around his shoulders. “You’ll always be my first love.”
“But I’m not your forever, Lena.”
I nod, grab my bag, and slip out the door. I walk across the track, the only sense of roots I’ve ever known. Well, until I visited Los Angeles. Being there, with Mack and Oliver, is when I truly felt at home. Yes, I’ll always have a place in Brenton, with my dad, but that’s not where my heart is calling me.
Unlocking my studio, I turn on the lights and set my bag down. I take my old Nikon out of the case and head to my dark room. I mix the solution, prepping the trays for processing. I remove the film from my camera and get to work. Meticulously, I go through the steps to transfer