Silent No More

“You don’t deserve anything nice.” He said it so casually, you might have thought we were talking about the weather.

I frowned and let the dress slip down. “You’re right. Mirrors lie.” I left the dressing room and moved to the makeup section. He followed, hands in his pockets, button-up shirt untucked. His shoes needed to be shined. 

There was a fire-engine red lipstick I had been eyeing for a couple of weeks. I picked it up and studied it. Should I? Shouldn’t I?

“Red isn’t your color.”

I nodded and put it back. “You’re right. It won’t match anything I already have, either.” A woman beside me glanced over with a funny look, but then continued to mind her own business. I sauntered to the electronics section. My old pair of earbuds had broken. Or, I should say, the dog chewed them. I grabbed a pair but then hesitated, looking over at him. He was leaning against a display rack.

“You might want to rethink that, too.” He straightened and shrugged, hands still in his pockets. “The music you listen to sucks.”

I put them back, biting my lip. 

“Can I help you?” The store employee had frizzy hair and a sweet smile.

“No,” he said. “Let’s go.” He finally removed his hands from his pockets and gestured as if ushering me away. The employee ignored him, still smiling. 

“No, thank you.” I moved around her. “Dad, where are we going?” I said quietly. He led me to the clothing section and gestured at a rack of T-shirts. I picked one up that had a Metallica printing. 

“Not your style,” he said. I put it down and picked up another one, this time plain and gray. “That’s it,” he said with a nod. “Let’s go.” 

I completed the purchase and left the store, avoiding eye contact with anyone. On the drive home, I glanced in the rearview mirror. Dad was gone, like usual. He only showed up to give advice. 

At the apartment, I slung the bag onto the couch as Lady jumped. I caught her with a laugh as she attacked my face with licks and kisses. 

“Good thing you have the dog.” He was reading a newspaper at the table with a cup of coffee. “That’s at least one thing that will give you unconditional love.” He didn’t even look at me as he said it. 

My cell phone buzzed in my back pocket. I put Lady down and pulled it out. It read Mom. I answered. 

“Hey Mom.”

“Hey, baby.” Her voice was unusually cheery, but I could tell she had been drinking. Again. “Do you plan on visiting his grave?”

I looked at the kitchen table. He was still drinking his coffee, nose buried in the paper. 

“It’s the two year anniversary of… you know.” She didn’t elaborate, and didn’t need to. 

“He’s always with me,” I said, eyes filling with tears. “I’m not ready, Mom.” 

“Okay.” There was a silence, and then, “Maybe next year.” 

***

Brain studies show that criticism effects a depressed teen more than praise does. Get involved in teen mental health here.