If you touch the following

It turned out that in the third year when Dad woke up from a serious injury, Vivian and others contacted him. It's just that my father was alone at that time, in a difficult situation, and his recovery was very slow, so he asked them to hide the news first. My father almost retired in those five years. In addition to healing and recuperation, he also did such a thing to prepare for the last documentary.

Vivian helped his father achieve his goal in the next two years with the resources and conditions he could, and Hu Yue also waited for what should come with her mother in her way.

When she took her father's address and contact information from Vivian, her mother's hands were shaking. She was not nervous or looking forward to it. She was angry. She felt cheated by her father again. She had been waiting for a long time, with the determination to die of old age. Unexpectedly, her father had been secretly testing her patience.

Although she thought that if her father was still alive, his return would be delayed for reasons as a last resort, she was almost angry when she knew that he had done such a thing. A heart like ashes burned before it could be ignited. She thought that her father was reluctant to come back out of pride, but she was willing to give up her and me.

Vivian and Hu Yue looked at their mother and me, and a gloomy light flashed in their eyes, but they did not explain much. Finally, Aunt Hu Yue advised her mother, "Go and see him. You will understand why he said he was still on the way."

Mom hesitated for a week without moving. In that week, I saw the vitality that had not appeared on her after six years. She is impetuous and even noisy, but she has to try to show an irrelevant look, just like a demonstration. She has endured it for six years. What else can't she bear? But in my eyes, she is like a little girl who stays out of the cabinet, playing a game of who can wait with her.

In the end, her grandmother encouraged her. Grandma said, "A tooth for a tooth, an eye for an eye. Haven't you ever tasted the taste of bruises all over your body? Do you still want to be so stubborn?"

The day my mother went to that strange town was cloudy and rainy. The air in the mountainous areas in the southwest is wet and obediently sticks to the body. I held her arm all the way and felt her cold body temperature.

The mud on the road wet her shoes and skirts. No one has heard of the name of the place. We don't know whether to take a detour or a detour, and finally come to the place where Dad is.

It is an old-fashioned bungalow, which should be old for a long time. The roads in the alleys are paved with pebbles, the roadside and corners are covered with moss, and the coarse clothes and trousers hung by several families are floating in the drizzle.

I helped my mother hold an umbrella. Her face was slightly raised and she looked at the small house in front of her. The tip of her nose seemed to be red.

"Baby, can you have some backbone? At least you are the one who has seen the big scene. As I said, I took her hand and knocked on the copper ring on the wooden door in front of me. Her hands were already small, and at that time, the smaller ones were almost non-existent.

Not long after, the door opened. I met my father, the father I miss day and night.

"Dad!"

At that time, I was 13 years old. I met my father for the fourth time and called him for the first time. I was so excited and surprised that I couldn't hear myself in a high tone.

Dad is sitting in a wheelchair. He is the same as I saw a few years ago. He wears a neat white shirt and can faintly see the curves of his muscles. The wheat-colored skin is slightly darker, but there is no scum on the face, and the fine short hair has also been carefully taken care of. His appearance and temperament have not become vulgar at all because he has been in the countryside for too long. On the contrary, the strong rustic atmosphere makes him look extraordinary.

"Daily, come to Dad."

Dad looked very calm. With his eyes that have always been deep, it was the first time I saw it flashing warm light. His voice was still low, but his tone was almost gentle.

My face was held in my father's hand. He brushed and brushed my cheek with his slightly trembling fingers. Tears flashed in his eyes, the corners of his mouth tilted for a long time, and finally smiled happily.

He swallowed his breath and resisted his sadness and said to me, "Bad boy, if you were like me like this, not like your mother, maybe Dad would recognize you."

I'm sure that most of my personality is inherited from my father. But I couldn't be bad at that time. I looked at my father's legs in a dazment, opened my mouth slightly, and called "Dad" a few questions, but I never dared to ask what was going on. Finally, I threw myself into my father's arms and cried.

When I was not calm, my mother showed abnormal calmness. It should be the moment she saw her father sitting in a wheelchair, her heart knots suddenly opened. She didn't ask her father much, and her father didn't say anything to her. Finally, her mother asked faintly:

"What do you want for dinner?"

"Would you like to eat shredded potatoes?" Dad asked.

It has always been my mother's favorite food.

In those years, my father's life was taken care of by a local aunt. In the days when my mother went there, she temporarily took over the aunt's position. She used the reason for going grocery shopping to drown herself in the drizzle for a long time. Dad wiped away my tears and instructed me to follow my mother.

Mom walked very slowly and walked lightly. She didn't let me hold on and insisted on going by myself. She was looking at the road all the way and almost missed the fork in the market. I dragged her in the right direction. She was like a puppet, emptying her head and following me.

There are many stalls selling fresh vegetables on the roadside, and the locals shouted enthusiastically in dialect. They wear hats, coarse cloth shirts, dark skin, and most of them are very thin. They looked at us with curious eyes, clear and bright.

My mother stood in front of the vegetable stall and didn't move. I picked an onion for her.

Mom turned her back to Dad and cut onions in the small kitchen. To the glass window slapped by the raindrops, her back was slender and slender, like a thin flower branch. Mom cut it with a knife, and tears couldn't help falling down.

"What do you do when you cut onions?" Dad pushed the wheelchair and sat next to her and looked at her.

"I'll make braised pork ribs for you."

"Do you need onions for braised pork ribs?"

"New taste." Mom said in a stiff tone.

"I'll do it." Dad put his arm on her arm and wanted to take her knife.

"No."

"Pocket, you're crying."

"It's choked." Mom's voice has begun to choke.

"The choking has changed."

"...Why are you so annoying?"

Dad lifted her skirt and gently wiped off the sand on it. My mother was wearing a sapphire blue skirt that day, with rose-red petals printed on the skirt. Dad wiped the sand very lightly and carefully, as if he were touching the real petals for fear of crushing it too hard.

When my mother cut the onion and stood up the knife, my father suddenly hugged her tightly. His face was buried in her lower abdomen for a long time, and his big hand surrounded her, as if to rub her into his body.

"Pocket... Am I dreaming?"

Mom raised her head to prevent tears from falling.

"Pocket, pocket, pocket... pocket...shen pocket..."

Dad called her name over and over again, and his tone was slow and heavy, like a candy for a long time, and he never gave up the aftertaste.

Mom finally couldn't help it. She hugged her father's shoulder and cried. Dad held her face, lifted her hair spilled by the raindrops, and kissed her little by little. The mother tried to erase the tears again and again, but she couldn't wipe them. She knelt down and lay on her father's lap, crying like a wayward child.

Tears wet my face, but my heart has never been so sweet. I walked over and comforted my mother on her back. My father leaned down and hugged me and my mother. His shoulders are very wide and warm, as if they can hold up the sky.

Dad didn't promise to go back with us immediately. The filming of the documentary has reached the final stage, and we still need to wait. The day before he left, his father held his mother in his arms, clasped her fingers with his ten fingers, clenched her chest tightly, and kissed her for a long time, as if he was going to kiss until the end of time.

I stood on the window sill and saw that the smoke had begun to dissipate. I knew that the future I had been looking forward for so many years was about to become touchable.

Dad really came back more than a year later, when his legs began to regain consciousness. He won more than 30 awards for the zero-pay documentary that he has been preparing for six years, in which at least ten pairs of characters kissing and hugging were shot against the background of the mountains.

Dad seemed to have fulfilled a long-cherished wish and said to his mother, "I'll take you to a place where no one knows us, forever."

In fact, Dad's waiting is not for his own wishes, but for his previous promises. He was afraid that we would be implicated because of his body, and that the future brought to his mother was not enough to eliminate the gap of the past, so he chose to wait. Waiting for one is enough to resist the future of the past, and waiting for one is enough to move towards that future.

Dad returned with this mountain harvest. He retreated and took us to Australia, a city called Canberra, and settled in the suburbs of the city. When we left, Uncle Hui came to see us off. He teased his father, and his grandparents had long been used to his disappearance, but they would still remember their grandchildren, so he might fly over and "harass" us.

Grandma followed us to move people, because her father said to her, "I and I will have a lot of children in the future. You have to worry about us."

Sure enough, only a few months later, my mother was pregnant with Xiaochi.

Grandma said to her father, "How can I be relieved if I don't follow? I know my daughter's temper best. What if she waits for the opportunity to retaliate against you? Well, grandma's body is still very strong, and her mouth is also very strong.

My parents, the relationship is still strange, just like just now, cough...

"Pocket, I forgot my towel." Dad shouted outside the bathroom door.

Mom opened a door seam and handed over the towel.

"Come on." Dad said.

"..."

"Come on again."

"Ah...!" With a bang, my mother probably fell into the water. She asked in panic, "Are you... all right? Did it press you? Does it hurt?"

"Forget it. Since it's all wet, don't go out and wipe my back."

"Oh..."

The sound of water coming from the bathroom, the sound of chattering, and the sound of my mother rubbing my father's back.

"Pocket, why don't you call me?"

"...what's your name?"

"Which one do you think I want to listen to?"

"Husband?"

"Almost."

"The child's father?"

"Almost."

"His father every day?"

"Almost."

"Xiao Chi's father?"

Dad sighed and shook his head.

"Hua Tianxiu, don't bully people too much!"

Before the mother's voice fell, there was another noise in the water. The two of them were quiet for a while, only the sound of snorting. Finally, the father took a bite of his mother and asked in a commanding tone, "Do you want to scream?" His tone is not without lack of gentleness.

"Brother Tianxiu..."

"Call it again."

"Brother Tianxiu."

"Call it again."

"Brother Tianxiu."

"Hahaha... call it again."

I can almost see my father's face at this time, and a pair of shallow dimples must have appeared.

"Brother Tianxiu..."

"Call it again." Dad's voice became very gentle.

"Brother Tianxiu..."

Mom's voice turned into a low murmur, and the bathroom gradually calmed down, with only the occasional sound of twisting the towel. After a while, the door opened. Dad sat in a wheelchair, and mom curled up in her arms, wrapped in a bathrobe and leaned on Dad's shoulder, as if she were asleep.

I used to help my father take over my mother, but he refused. I have been taller than my mother since a few years ago. My father asked me a personal trainer to practice good physical strength, but it doesn't seem to have been useful.

Dad raised his hand to tell me to keep my voice down, wrapped his hands around my mother's body, hugged her, slowly stood firmly under my legs, and then walked to the bedroom.

He walked step by step, not fast, but very stable. Mom snorted, her head rubbed against her father's chest, and her long bangs hung on her face. Dad lowered his head, lifted her hair with his chin, and gently rubbed his face on her cheeks, just like rubbing Xiaochi, and then continued to move forward.

I think my father will recover well one day, because my worry-free mother has too many ways to torture him.

If I touch it, I think I will gradually understand why my mother says this word more like talking about her and her father. When her father was away, she touched his shadow from the bits and pieces of her life. When her father was here, the love between the two could be reached, but it was as if they were separated.

There are two kinds of fate. She and her father belong to the first kind. The arranged relationship will tie the two people together, and they are doomed to be difficult to give up for a lifetime.