Siren Bay

XIV

December 25th | Six days until NYE

Despite all the decorations, all the presents we'd given each other, the tender and delicious Christmas dinner and the game of cards we'd played together...something felt off.

I knew it was me. I just couldn't find the joy, the excitement. I had my family together for the holidays, the gift-giving and the entire meal. We had our paper crowns from the Christmas crackers, traded the horrible yet hilarious jokes that were rolled amongst the miniature bowling pins, tiny deck of cards, the bottle opener, and the manicure kit.

And yet I found myself holding my drink in my living room, alone, because there was a pit in my stomach I couldn't fill.

It was currently the section of Christmas Day that was the allocated nap time. The twins had crashed after the dinner, and Mum had taken the opportunity to rest as well. I'd done the dishes to see if I could lodge this numb feeling but all that had succeeded in was some extra-scrubbed plates.

I looked up when I saw my dad sitting on the back garden bench. I glimpsed his mellow expression and frowned, setting down my drink, and walked outside.

He startled. Seeing me leaning against the glass he immediately leaned back, his face lighting up. If I hadn't seen his expression seconds before I wouldn't have thought anything was wrong.

"Dad, what's going on?" I said, sitting down next to him.

The smile eased but not completely. "Shame we lost our record for Charades yesterday," Jeremiah said instead. "The Hardy's and Maureen are a powerful team."

I played along. "Yeah, as soon as Mrs Hardy had to act out Sex and the City it was over for us."

He laughed. "That was funny."

"I liked how no one said anything for a solid five minutes before Leah finally caved," I giggled, "she couldn't watch it anymore."

"Well," Dad shrugged with a half-smile. "It's certainly a Christmas we won't forget."

I turned his words over in my head. "Are you alright, Dad? You're a little quiet."

Jeremiah Okenji, the tallest, broadest, and funniest man I knew, curled in on himself and the sigh he released sounded like he'd been holding it in for months. He stared at the floor, eyes darting around the grains in the wooden decking, and I watched as he looked up at me and pinned me with the weight of his gaze.

"Dad?" I said quietly.

"Christmas could have been different this year if Maureen hadn't found you," he admitted. "It would have been me, your mother, and the twins. We would have tried the Charades and found no one could be as creative as you. We would have the sticky date pudding your mum does every year, even though it's tedious, but there wouldn't be anyone who would praise it, because that would have been you."

He leaned back on the bench. "There wouldn't have been your excitement over the presents. No one to look after the twins." He stared at me. "There wouldn't be anyone sitting next to me right now."

"Dad," I said, my voice wavering. "I'm here."

"For two nights you weren't. For those two nights, every outcome ran through my head, and you have no idea how terrified I was, how terrified we were." Dad slowly shook his head like he was dislodging the memory of my disappearance. "I dropped everything to find you, and I would do it again, so we never have to go through a day without you here, with your family, where you belong."

I turned away, setting my glass down on the arm of the bench, and bit my lip in an attempt to stop the tears from spilling from my eyes. "Dad..." My voice broke. "I'm sorry."