The Call

SPOILERS: The Body

I've been sitting here by the phone for almost an hour. Every few minutes put the handset up to my ear and start to dial, but I can't seem to get past the LA area code. I'm not exactly sure why this is so hard. I mean, telling Dawn about Mom's death was just about the most difficult thing I've ever done. But for some reason, this is almost worse.

I guess I don't want to pop that little shock bubble I've been living in for the past few hours. Because once the numbness goes away, I know the pain will be right there waiting for me. And I don't know if I'm ready for that yet. I'm not ready to knowledge that this is more than just some bad dream. And calling him means it has to be real. I don't call him just to shoot the breeze, and I can barely remember the last time he called me. When we talk, it's important. It's real. And so if I tell him about this, it will most definitely be real.

This is so strange. It used to be that I could go to him for anything, with any problem, with any fears. One embrace and a few soft words would make the whole world go away. He was my life, my world, my everything. When he went away it left this pit in my stomach; this void that I felt nothing could ever fill. It's taken me a while, but I thought I'd finally reached the point where I don't need him in my life.

So why can't I pick up the phone?

I guess there's some part of me that will always need him, on some level. As much as I want to be completely independent of it, no girl ever outgrows that first love of her life. Every milestone in my life will be followed by this moment, this instant of staring at the phone and trying to come to a decision. To call or not to call?

Unfortunately there's no decision making this time. He needs to know. I'm sure Giles would be willing to make the call, after all, he's taken care of just about everything else today. But I know that would make them both uncomfortable, and I can't put them through that. Besides, he deserves to hear it from me. Even after everything we've been through, or maybe because of it, he needs to hear it from me.

Deep breath, dial. The phone rings once, twice ... I hold my breath, half hoping for the answering machine, the other half praying he'll answer.

"Hello?" Even after all this time, I'd recognize his voice in an instant.

"Hi, Dad."