Page 136 of Old Habits

“Why not?” I ask.

He takes another sip from his can. “Because I didn’t want you to slip into a mold and get stuck here like I did or how,” he pauses, “or how she did. Joanne hated it here but she stayed because of me and because we had you. I didn’t want the same thing to happen to you, so… I did the only thing I knew how to do and I pushed you away. I didn’t want you to get too attached to this place but then you started dating that damn kid.”

My lips twitch. “Will?”

He nods. “You fell so hard for him. Before that, you used to talk about traveling the world and getting out of this place after graduation but you stuck around because of him. Then, things happened the way they did and you took off. For that, I was proud of you.” He looks up at me. “Does that answer your question?”

A tear escapes down my cheek but I wipe it away before it reaches my jawline. I feel the ice cold drink in my other hand and I walk over to the couch to plop down.

“Yeah, I think so,” I say as I pull the tab.

Hank tosses me the stack of postcards. They land just off my lap, still bound tightly together as they bounce onto the cushion beside me. I pick them up and turn them over in my palm to read the back of the last one I sent him. Greetings from Denver.

“Where are you going next, Jovie?” he asks me.

I close my eyes, willing my head into a blank slate. I could repeat history all over again, just like they all expect me to. It’s a tempting thought. There’s still so much of the world I haven’t seen yet but there’s no guarantee I’d ever find somewhere else to call home, as much as I’d hate to admit it. I don’t imagine mountains or city skylines or oceans along that slate. I imagine Will’s face instead.

“I love him,” I finally say.

“And he loves you.” He nods. “But is that enough?”

I stare at the stack in my hand for several moments before exhaling hard. “Well, you were right,” I say, raising my beer. “I did need this.”

He chuckles. “If there’s one thing I’m well-educated in, it’s when to get shit-faced.”

I laugh. “It’s a far more useful skill than anything I’ve got.”

His head tilts. “I wouldn’t say that.”

I smile, ready to blow off the sentiment, but something about it clings to the back of my head like a word you need but can’t quite remember.

I look at my father again and he nods.