Categories
2025 – Spring

It’s the sentiment that counts.

Author: Maxime Jaquet

I cannot believe it’s time already. It was so short. I mean, it felt briefer than usual. No… It hasn’t rung yet. The noise… probably the twins downstairs, playing. Leanne and Will sure play a lot. Often. Pounding their feet in a frenetic tempo, too chaotic to be conducted. Shouldn’t they be doing their homework? I suppose Maria lets them.
Something sharp in my back.
– What the?!
Fell asleep before I could put my book on my nightstand; now it has folded pages. I’m a mess. I guess Maria and the kids would have put it away for me, had they seen it. They surely would have… Right? I can’t think like that. They deserve better.
I guess I am lucky to have them, to have her. I shouldn’t complain.
What time is it? This late, huh?
They need me.
Like always I am the last one up. I hate it. What kind of a father wakes after everybody? A deadbeat one. If only my younger self saw me. He would knock me out. I think I deserve that at least. Meanwhile, the feet pounding vanishes.
It’s peculiar. I like this pseudo-quiet before the day starts, the moment of “silence” right as the concert is about to commence. The unison of the audience, disturbed by the inadvertent coughs and sit shifts. Life being lived! Life being lived downstairs, while it still hasn’t reached me in here.
My eyes itch.
The coldness of the ground hits my feet and moves through my body like a searing rod through flesh, while my mind desperately tries to pull me back under my blankets. It’s comfortable here, unlike out there.
But they need me.
I gather my courage. Great! My eyes hurt. I forgot to change the light bulb in the bathroom, again. Too much light. The lamp in the room should suffice if I open the door entirely. The kids start pounding their feet once more. Lucky for us, we don’t have any ranting neighbors. They all went away during the holidays! Oh…
That’s why the kids aren’t doing their homework. Can’t believe I forgot.
I pass my hand in my hair but touch only skin. I then open the second drawer with excess strength, it reaches the end of its rails in a ringing and deafening noise; a high pitch pipe and a timpani. Why do we have two drawers for one couple? Probably Maria’s suggestion. I seize my brush. Logged between its bristles are the vestiges of my hair. I massage my head with evenly spaced strokes, the same as always. I don’t know what hurts most: my scar on the back of my head or the fact that I can’t fathom this bald look. Well, at least Maria fell in love with me before I lost my hair. And I love my kids and my wife. Guess I am lucky that way. Could’ve been worse, you know?
… Yeah… I know.
I get out of the bathroom after having taken minimal care of my being. I reach for my clothes. Bang!
– JESUS CH****!!!! Fudge!!!!
I hate this stupid bench. Why would someone put a bench at the end of a bed? Damn my toe hurts. My cursing must have carried downstairs for I hear the kids’ pounding getting closer to my position. My quiet is gone, the concert begins.
They enter, they cheer, they run, they play around me while I try to dress. I used to have that energy once. They look happy. I release a subdued smile. Are they? Happy? Time to go play the dad.
– Rwaaaaaaaa! Who ventures into the lair of the mighty Drevorgh?! I hunger and I see two delicious kids! Rwaaaaaaa!
They shout and flee towards their mom.
Cowards!
It works too well. I am glad I can still put on a performance this convincing. Or they aren’t very bright.
Screw these thoughts! What has gotten into me lately? They looked happy at least! I make my way down the screeching stairs lit by this flickering light that does not know what it wants in life. Lit up or turned off. Just like this room. Either living room or kitchen. Just like a man who lives while others sleep.
– Makes no sense. I whisper.
My thoughts go away as I see her sitting on the couch. Maria. The dress, the jewelry, I know them, I gifted them to her. But her face, I can never seem to know it, as if it renews itself. Silly me. We’ve been together for what, twelve or fourteen years? She smiles at me while the kids tuck behind her in fear of the mighty Drevorgh.
I guess I am lucky.
– You look good! She intones with her voice, almost singing.
– Why do we have two drawers in the bathroom?
– You asked for them, honey. She answers, while slightly tilting her head.
– Weird…
– You got up early today. She says while playing with Will.
– What do you mean? It’s real late.
– Funny! I didn’t want to wake you so I left your book by your side, hope it’s okay. Food is on the counter. Would you like to sit with us for a bit?
– No, I think I’ll go early, so I can leave early as well.
– I didn’t know you could do that.
I think she wants me to respond.
– It’s okay… For the book.
The false note spoils the harmony.
She looks at me with loving eyes while I flee this minor tone towards the door, keys in hand. Coward!
– Bye! I say as I open the door.
I wait a second. No response. They are laughing. I shut it and head towards my scratched car. Maria shoveled the snow out of the driveway. Suddenly, I catch it. Coming from the window.
– I love you.
– Love you Daddy!
What a rush, what guilt I am feeling. They seem sincere. Their message: earnest. Like a musical note carried by the air, forever etched in the unattainable. I cling to it. The night is tightly set. I look up. The coldness reminds me of the one that hit my feet. And the emptiness that stares back at me attacks my soul, and my mind caves as the echo of their love wanes. My shift, my day really, is about to begin while theirs is ending. But I have to do it.
They need me.
Probably more than I need them.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.