The Perfect Emotion by Melissa Rolka Page A

with the same cheeriness to her voice that it usually has.
    “Sure, I could use a couple new tennis skirts.” I feel my heart flutter thinking about how Reed likes my tennis skirts.
    We shop through the different stores and it all feels very normal.  We comment on clothing and tell each other if we like something or if we don’t.  I try to pay for the things I want to get, but she pays for everything.  I have a little spending money that I saved from when I work for my dad.  After a few hours we decide to head home. 
    I haven’t been home since right before I left for the semester. A rush of anxiety spills over my chest about being back at home. I remind myself of the changes I’ve made and the progress I’ve made with my mom. Instead of letting the panic rise in me I make a mental list of how the week will go. First on the list is to continue bonding with my mom. Then I need to talk to my dad about the house me and the girls want to get for next year. I’d like to live up in Milwaukee over the summer in the house with some of the girls. Then I could catch up on the classes I didn’t get to finish, maybe even get a part time job. Lastly, I need to tell my dad more about Reed. It’s important that I keep myself open and not suppress any feelings I have. I know my dad feels I’m too fragile still to handle too much, but I’m stronger than I ever thought I was in a lot of ways.
    “Katherine, I don’t want you taking on too much this semester. Are you sure you won’t consider staying home and going to community college? I, I… just want to make sure you have time to heal. I don’t want you putting too much pressure on yourself. I realize I’m probably to blame for some of that.” His brows furrowed together and he ran a hand over his face. I shifted in my chair and my eyes looked down at the table.
    “Dad, stop please. I can’t put my life on hold because I didn’t cope and deal with … with my life.”
    “That is not your fault and I’m so sorry, sweetie.”  This is not the first time I’ve glanced at my dad’s eyes in more recent times and seen them glassy and teary.  A recognizable lump begins to make it difficult to swallow. 
    “I promise I’m okay and I’ll continue to be okay.”  I reach over and rest my hand on his arm.  “But I have to keep moving forward.” 

    Once we get back to the house dad is there waiting for us.  He’s outside on the patio with the grill fired up.  This is his specialty.  He loves to grill and he’s good at it.  He doesn’t really cook otherwise, but as soon as the weather is nice out he’s out there every night.  Often he has his old-fashioned radio or boom box, as he’ll refer to it from some odd 30 years ago, with the White Sox baseball game on.  He even wears an apron that says Grill Master.  As soon as I see him I smile and start to crack a laugh out.  I smile even bigger when I see the smile my mom has plastered across her face as she takes in the sight of him grilling.  His eyes meet hers briefly and then crease with the smile he gives me.  Mom looks back at me before she heads to the fridge to pull condiments out.
    “Go, he’s anxious to see you.” She gently brushes my shoulder and her face lights up.
    Once I get out there I see Daniel kicking a soccer ball around, unless he is on an electronic that kid doesn’t sit still.  I sneak up behind him and swoop around to kick the ball from his feet.  He chases me yelling “Kate” and I laugh at the change in his voice.  I stop and turn and then kick it back to him and ask him how he’s doing.  I tease him about his girlfriend and he turns away to kick after the ball. 
    I walk up to the grill to take a peak and am happy to see that dad is making his famous juicy burgers.  They are my favorite. Then I turn to give him a hug.  He takes me in his arms and squeezes tightly.
    “How’s my girl? I’ve missed you.”
    “Good dad, thanks.  I’ve missed you too.”
    We talk about