When a Hug Isn't Comfortable

Chapter Two

I thought about our usual mornings.
I would wake up to my extremely annoying alarm, and take a really long time getting dressed. My mom would call me down for breakfast, because most of the time, I was late. I would come down, and my mom would get mad at me. Then my dad would come down. He would say good morning to us, and then put on his big, shiny, work shoes. Then my mom would get mad at him for distracting us. I thought that it would always stay this way forever, that we would always be one big happy family. That I would never feel torn apart. I guess I just had to realize that this was all too good to be true.
I didn’t know who to hug first, my mom or my dad, so I just continued to cry. Finally, my dad told me to give him a hug. I REALLY love hugs… but it just felt awkward, because I couldn’t be comforted, and it was useless trying to comfort my dad, because, well, he was my father. I had never seen him like this before. He was bawling. My shirt was getting soaked with my father’s tears, and his shirt was getting soaked with mine. I started to feel really uncomfortable, just sitting there, because when I hug someone, I either want to feel really comfortable, or I want to make the other person feel comfortable, then if I am satisfied with that persons hugs, I ask for more. That hug with my father was the most uncomfortable hug I have ever had.
Finally I just got up, and went to go hug my mom. It was still pretty uncomfortable, but only because I was the only one crying. It was then that I thought that this was all my mom’s fault. I fought the urge to scream, “What the hell did you do to my dad?!”
My mom was always dominant over my dad.  Most of the time, my dad didn’t have any say  in any of the rules. My dad is such a gentle person, I thought,  he would never do something to hurt my mom, he’s too gentle.
I moved out of my moms grasp, and I went back to my original spot on the rug.
“Do you guys still love each other?” I asked.
“Well,” my mom replied, “in a way, we do.” In a WAY?
I wanted them to hug. I wanted to know for sure that they loved each other, so I said, “I want you two to do something, but I’m too afraid to say it.”
“Well, why don’t you just write it down?” my mother asked
I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote;  I want you two to hug, and handed it to my mom.
My parents looked nervously at each other.  Slowly,  my parents started hugging. It was a  long hug, and it made me think that maybe my they would get back together. It gave me hope. I did not regret asking.  
My brother and I were just staring at my parents, but we were definitely not thinking the same thing.   
“I don’t ever want you guys to date or get remarried.” I told them
“I don’t think you need to worry about that.” My dad replied. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Who is moving away?” said my brother ,with the thoughtlessness of a 6 year old.
“Well, I was going to move away… I think you guys will like the house.” My mom replied, slowly, “It’s in South Salem, so it’s not too far from here. I fell in love with it as soon as I saw it. It’s really unique because part of the house is round.
I dried some of my tears. “Can we see some pictures of it?” It wasn’t really that I wanted to see pictures of the house, I just wanted to get out of this room and forget about this all.
“Okay, sure, I think I have a few pictures… you’re going to like your room, Cecelia.”
We all walked over to the office where my mom had pictures of her soon-to-be house.  It WAS  a cool house. There was a silo attached to the side of the house, therefor, my room was round. If we were just moving there because we needed to move, it would have been really cool, but this was because my parents didn’t love each other. Because of a divorce. The word still makes me feel uncomfortable.  
My dad walked outside and drank a glass of water. He wasn’t in the mood to look at pictures of the new house. Neither was I.
My mom scheduled a visit to the house, for the next day.