Extremely Tired

The bedroom was dimly lit with the yellowish glow from the lamp on the nightstand. I was feeling extremely tired. I decided to get a nap before dinner. I laid down in my great-grandmother's robe. It was pink, quilted, polyester robe with clear rose buttons. I'd had it for about 12 years. It was unraveling in certain areas but I loved it. It was warm just like she used to be. It comforted me.

There was a tap at the bedroom door. Nothing startling....actually it was very soft. Knock. Knock. The door creaked open. Sluggishly, I opened my eyes to see my daddy standing there. He was still in his work clothes. Confusion set in. I tried not to show it. There was a time when I would have welcomed this intrusion. But not now. He slowly closed the door behind him and walked over to sit on the edge of my bed.

I began to sit up and he slowly shook his head. "You can keep laying down." he said softly. It was odd to see this giant sitting on the edge of my tiny twin size bed. Daddy was 6'8" and 280 lbs. Just like the beanstalk in the story Jack and the Beanstalk, I knew the bed was about to give way any minute. Everything was about to crumble. He clasped his hands together and lowered his head. He stared at the carpet for a moment then tilted his head toward me. His eyes were a little red. Not from drinking. Just worn out looking. There were small puffs under his eyes. I wondered if he was sleeping at night. He didn't smile. Neither did I. He appeared to be extremely tired.

"You were just trying something weren't you." He spoke carefully. This seemed unusual to me. I answered with a nod. I felt awkward. Talking to him was always awkward. He continued. "You just wanted to see what it was like to be with an older man." Again I nodded but this time abashedly. I frowned a little from surprise. How did he know that? My mother didn't know that. Or at least she didn't seem to have picked up on it. Harold didn't look older. Yea he was 21 but how would they know. They'd only met him once. How did he know? My daddy was never in tuned to what I was doing. He never asked me about school or my life or anything. I didn't think he cared.

He kept going. "I sort of know how you feel. We all make mistakes. This one is just going to last you a lifetime." Again, I frowned from surprise. He paused for a minute and then placed his hand on my hand. "It is time for you to grow up now, you know that, right?" I didn't nod that time. I thought it was best to remain silent. "Baby girl, you know I love you." The words were slow, warm and fuzzy.

Whoa, what was that? Where was he coming from? My Daddy never said I love you. This was amazing and frightening. The giant no longer looked big and strong. He looked human. His straight shoulders now drooped. He looked tired and defeated. He dropped his head and a tear trickled down his cheek. He quickly brushed it away. I too shed a tear. I let my tear roll off my cheek.

"I love you too Daddy." I opened my mouth to say the words but all I could do was nod. I guess I never said I love you either. It was just too hard to say. "Me and your Momma will help you with the baby, OK?" Nod. I couldn't look him in the eye. I was so ashamed. I stared at the stupid gold shag carpet that covered the majority of the house. I hated that shag carpet. Like my stomach, it didn't fit. The carpet didn't match the house and my stomach didn't match my body. But it looked like my dad didn't care anymore. I didn't know what to do or say so I just laid there and stared.

"Alright, you better get ready for dinner." He slowly lifted himself from the bed and walked out the door. I nodded. We were both extremely tired. It was understood.