you feel something, happy, sadness, love, anything but a headache. If I wanted that I would just open my bedroom window more often.
Our last stop was a dress shop. Anna needed a fancy dress for a dinner dance she planned to go to with her parents. It wasn’t often we got to play dress-up since we spent most of our time in classes of some kind. Anna was searching for the perfect dress. She wanted to feel beautiful, to look like a Hollywood starlet. Taking the three of us with her was a big mistake, with a capital B. What was she thinking? We followed her in like we were her entourage.
“I like the blue one.”
“Do you like red?”
“Black goes with everything.”
“Straps or strapless?”
“The ‘girls’ would look great in this one.”
“What girls?”
And in unison, “Never mind Toby.”
We were like an army. They didn’t know what hit them, in and out with a dress in thirty minutes.
Carrying our bags to the car Toby had to ask, “Will some one please tell me what all that ‘girls’ stuff meant back there?”
It was Kayla who whispered in his ear making Toby turn bright red. She gestured and held her chest, “the girls” and smiled.
Toby just shook his head, “I give up”. On the drive home, every now and then, one of us would look at Toby and smile. He would turn red again, so the game was on.
As we pulled up to my house Anna said, “Hope, there won’t be any morning classes, so when do you want me to pick you up?”
“I’m having some Dad time tomorrow… How about, after dinner, say five? We’ll still have plenty of time.”
“That sounds like a plan to me.”
“Thanks Anna.” Anna was always on good terms with my dad, so it wouldn’t bother her hanging around the house with us.
As I walked up to the front door, the house seemed covered over in shadows. Dad was teaching an evening class tonight but as always he left the front porch light on for me. I turned on the lights and the music as I headed into the kitchen to find something for dinner.
After having something to eat and doing my homework, I decided to watch TV until Dad came home. In the background I could hear the rhythmic pounding of drums, over and over. I muted the TV only to discover the noise was coming from my purse. I pulled out my phone and recognized Toby’s face looking back at me. I pushed the ‘Accept’ without another thought.
“Well, it’s about time you answered.”
“Toby, what did you do to my phone?”
“Hope… can we…. talk?” Toby’s voice seemed so distant; I knew there was something wrong.
“Yes, you want to come over?”
“Tree house in five minutes?”
“Be there.” No other words were needed. I would be there for Toby, because Toby was always there for me.
I remember once when I was ten and Toby was eleven. We were walking in the woods across from our houses. By the time we started for home, it was dark. I was afraid to be in the woods in the dark but Toby kept telling me that there wasn’t anything to be afraid of. Even at that age Toby made me feel protected. That was until we were out in the open, and I saw my house. There were cops everywhere but the worst part was seeing Dad’s face. He was mad… beyond mad.
“Where have you been young lady?” he stammered.
I didn’t know what to say, but it was Toby who answered for us. “We were thinking of running away and joining the circus but we forgot our rubber noses.” I had to laugh and so did Dad. I was still in trouble but like always Toby made me feel better. Yes that’s what friends were for.
I grabbed my sweatshirt as I headed out the back door remembering when Toby’s dad and mine built the tree house. I must have been around seven.
The tree house was a special place. It sat in the small grove of pines in the backyard. It took our dads a month to build it, and every year, they would repair or upgrade it. It was a place where dreams and fantasies came true. But as I opened the door and walked in I only felt sadness. In the corner sat Toby with his head down, his arms wrapped around his knees.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I sat down beside him. Of course he wasn’t okay, I knew that much, just looking at him. But I didn’t know what else to say. “What’s wrong Toby?”
“Just caught a little off guard, I guess. Just unprepared… for some old feelings.”
It took me a few minutes to put together what he had just said. I leaned my head against Toby’s shoulder and noticed his eyes were about to tear up.
“Toby what happened?”
“I had everything ready for senior pictures. New T-shirt, jeans, even shoes, everything was ready, until Mom saw what I had picked out.”
“Your mom likes your style.” Toby’s mom always liked the idea of him being an individual. She always said there was something special about him.
“It’s not that, she liked the new T-shirt. She even liked my checkerboard shoes. She was talking about how things had changed from when she was my age. Girls always wore dresses, guys wore suits.” He paused, “Hope… I wanted to surprise her.”
As he spoke I saw the sadness in his eyes.
“I’ve always seen the pictures of the two of them, before they met each other. They were dressed up in prom pictures and senior pictures. I wanted to do something special for her. Did you know, when my Dad passed away, she had most of his things packed up in boxes in the attic?”
“No… ” I said softly, as I touched his face and he looked back at me. “Maybe it’s her way of hanging onto a little part of him.”
“I wanted to surprise her by dressing up a little. I thought it would look cool to wear a suit jacket, like in one of Dad’s photos. Something special for my Mom, and my grandfather. I went through the boxes, until I found one. It was jet black, with satin lapels, and looked great.”
“Then why do you look so sad?”
“It was when I was standing in front of the mirror. For a split second, it was as if my Dad was standing in front of me. I miss him so much. I used to dread the father-son talks. Now there are so many things I wish I could ask him.”
As I sat beside Toby with my head on his shoulder there were so many memories of his father still here in the tree house. The benches he built wide enough to sit on or even stretch out our feet as we read books. A funny little table was part of the trap door and the crooked windows. Our dad’s had spent a lot of their time off building it for us.
“I’m sorry Toby,” I said quietly.
“Don’t be… at least I had fifteen years of memories.
