6. Where’s the Monster Repeller?
6
WHERE’S THE MONSTER REPELLER?
DAISY
Double-check the security at town hall—we don’t want any uninvited guests sneaking in.
I mark a check on my to-do list, before proceeding to the next item.
Make sure there’s water ready for Charles.
Just imagining Charles’ parched throat as he’s facing the camera makes my own throat go dry.
This isn’t the time to start feeling sympathy pains for your boss, Daisy.
He’s probably nervous enough as it is, with the whole town watching.
Unlocking the door, my hand lingers on the key fob.
Do I need to use the restroom again?
You’re not trekking through a desert, there are bathrooms at town hall, girl!
Right, let’s go. I head down the stairs of my apartment building and am not surprised to find Dave, one of Charles’ bodyguards, waiting for me on the street. On special occasions like today, I’m sure my boss doesn’t want me to take a chance with a cab.
“Hey, Dave. Thanks for picking me up.”
Slipping into the back seat, I pause. The faint scent of Charles’ Tom Ford cologne, a mix of vanilla and tobacco, still lingers in the air. I take a deep breath before noticing the car freshener on the dashboard. Vanilla and pine.
Dammit, Charles, your nerves are rubbing off on me.
Flipping through my notes, I circle the most urgent tasks in red when my phone interrupts with a ring.
“You don’t have to start a new habit of calling me instead of sending your pointed texts, Charles. I promise, everything’s going to be okay.”
“I’m not Charles, hon.”
“Aunt Mel?” I glance at the caller ID and groan. “Sorry, it’s a big day and I’m a little stressed. You might have already seen on TV—”
“You need to come home, Daisy.”
“Yes, I will. I promise. These last few days have been crazy with work, but I’ll be there on the weekend.”
“No, honey. You need to come right now. We can’t find your dad.”
My fingers pause on my colorful notes as all air leaves my lungs.
“I saw him in the morning through the kitchen window, picking up his newspaper. But when I went to check on him after breakfast, he wasn’t in the house. His sneakers were gone, and his furry house slippers were still at the entryway.”
My stomach rolls. Dad and I bought those matching reindeer slippers last month while shopping for new Christmas tree ornaments. He promised to wear them all season, and to make sure he doesn’t forget, he placed them near the front door.
“He left the home unlocked. The coffee pot was on the stove. I was just in time to prevent any accidents in the kitchen. Fred and the neighbors are looking for him now. I don’t think he’s gone far, but he’ll be scared and disoriented when we find him. You need to be there for him, kiddo.”
My fingers clutch the edges of my skirt, memories of the last time Dad vanished like this flooding my mind.
“Did he take his jacket?”
“No.” That single word is wrapped in sympathy and pain.
How does he remember to change his shoes but forget the jacket right above them? But who knows what Alzheimer’s does to a brain.
“I’ll be right there.”
As I end the call, negative thoughts swarm like a thick tornado, threatening to engulf me. Where could he have gone? Even though Cherrywood is a safe place, accidents aren’t completely unheard of here.
I shake my head immediately. Stop it, Daisy.
“Dave, can we please reroute?”
The driver’s brows furrow, but he nods as I relay my dad’s address.
Next task, Call Jimmy.
“Hi, Daisy. I can’t believe we’re actually doing this. Thank you so much for getting Charles to agree to the interview.”
“Jimmy, I won’t make it to the town hall in time.”
“What?” His exuberant speech falters. “No! You have to be here before Charles. He’s gonna flip if he doesn’t see you. We can’t turn back now after coming this far.”
“I can’t, Jimmy. It’s my dad.” My throat tightens. “Everything will be okay. Just tell Charles I’m in the next room or something. I’m sure he’s not going to be there even a second early. I’m sending you my notes. Please make sure everything’s set up in a way that makes Charles comfortable. At least as much as he can be.” My stomach churns, twisting into knots while I imagine Charles facing the press.
“I can’t believe this. You’re serious.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I hear Jimmy’s sigh through the phone. “Okay, you take care, but I hope to see you soon.”
My relief is muted, covered in worry and anxiety both for Dad and Charles. My hands shake as I end the call and open the texting app.
Me: Best of luck.
Boss aka Charles Asshole Hawthorne: I don’t need luck. I just need to get through this. Are you on your way?
Me: Almost there.
Cold sweat breaks out on my forehead as I text the lie, but it’s better if Charles doesn’t know beforehand about my absence. He will create a scene, or worse, he might not arrive at the venue.
Boss aka Charles Asshole Hawthorne: See you then.
As Dave turns onto my block, my phone buzzes.
Aunt Mel: Fred and his buddies found Jason at the cemetery. He’s disoriented and doesn’t remember how he got there.
A pang hits my chest as I step out of the car.
Uncle Fred, Aunt Mel’s husband, is waiting for me on the curb, a weak smile lifting one corner of his lips as I approach.
“He’s safe,” he whispers as I hug him. “I’m sure he’ll relax when he sees you.”
I take the porch steps two at a time, and my chest clenches as I find Dad in the living room, staring at the blank TV.
“Dad.”
He turns toward me, confusion clouding his brown eyes. “Um, Daisy?”
His doubtful tone squeezes my heart, but I muster fake bravado and walk inside.
“Of course it’s me, Dad. Your Doodles.” I kneel before him. “Or do you have any more secret daughters I don’t know about?”
My joke only makes Dad think harder.
Stupid, Daisy!
“I don’t think so,” he says carefully.
“Me neither. Mom would have kicked you out if you tried that.”
“I totally agree with you on that, Daze.” Aunt Mel brings Dad tea as she tries to hide her worry behind a forced smile. “I’ll leave you two alone. If you need something, just holler.” She kisses my forehead, holding my head a bit tight before leaving.
Dad and I sit by the fireplace for several seconds, until he finally breaks the silence.
“I forgot why I went there.” Dad’s low voice trembles, creating a matching shiver in my heart.
“It’s okay, Dad. You’re safe, and that’s what matters.”
His grip tightens on my hand. “It’s not okay, kiddo, and it won’t get any better.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Days like today might not get better, but all the others will be extra fabulous. I promise you that, Daddy. Do you trust your Doodles?”
“I trust you completely. But I also trust myself to be a bigger burden each day.” His words are laced with pain.
“You could never be a burden to me.” Placing a kiss on his hand still holding mine, I rise up. If we stay like this, we’ll never get out of these sucky talks. “How about I make us some pancakes?”
A genuine smile spreads across his face. Mom used to joke that Dad would sell us both for his favorite peanut butter pancakes. Of course, that’s the first thing I learned to cook, and they came in handy for getting special permissions.
As I set the large glass bowl for preparing pancake batter onto the counter, my phone buzzes.
Jimmy: The media is already here and setting up. Charles is leaving in five mins. Since he isn’t flipping out, I’m assuming he doesn’t know his Monster Repeller isn’t here.
Me: I thought it was better this way.
Jimmy: Let’s see. Because I completely trust your boss to storm out of a room full of reporters just because he can’t find his assistant.
God, I hope not.
Please, Charles. Just for once, be a gentleman for the cameras.
I return to the living room with pancakes and tea. Since Dad’s diagnosis, we’ve swapped his coffee for green tea entirely.
“Isn’t that your boss?” Dad points toward Charles’ photo on the TV screen, and without waiting for my response, he cranks up the volume.
“It’s a special day in Cherrywood. Heir to the famous Hawthorne family, Charles Hawthorne is doing his first exclusive interview for a select group of news channels. Charles has been leading Hawthorne Holdings for four years and is soon to officially inherit the family business and empire from his grandmother. With significant shares in businesses like Elixir Inc., Charles ranks among the richest men in the business world. Yet the reclusive tycoon has always kept his personal life shrouded, so what’s changed now? There are speculations about Charles finally coming out about his love life, which is talked about as much as his work.” The female reporter grins, tipping her head toward the town hall building behind her.
“Aren’t you supposed to be there?” Dad points his finger toward the screen.
“I’m right where I need to be, Dad. Don’t worry—” My words are interrupted by the vibration of my phone once again.
Calm the heck down, Jimmy.
“Charles Hawthorne just arrived at Cherrywood Town Hall,” the reporter exclaims.
My head feels like it’s in a blender right now, swinging from Dad’s confused face to my phone buzzing angrily and Charles’ face on the TV.
My boss steps out of his car, disregarding the numerous cameras pointed at him. Dressed in a charcoal-black suit paired with a navy-blue tie and white shirt, he truly looks like he owns even the air that flows in this town. I can’t believe he’s the same man who I bother with silly pink napkins and a sillier nickname.
Somehow, I snap out of the trance that Charles Hawthorne weaves around people.
I pass a plate to Dad, whose gaze is fixed on the TV like the entirety of Cherrywood, and then check my phone.
My knees wobble, a rare feeling akin to fear settling in—fear of Charles’ reaction.
Boss aka Charles Asshole Hawthorne: Where are you?
Before I can reply, another message pops up on my phone screen.
Boss aka Charles Asshole Hawthorne: Reply to me, goddammit.
My heart squeezes. I can’t even call him an asshole right now. He has every right to go ballistic on me. I was the one who pushed him to do this interview and promised to handle everything. And then, at the last minute, I bailed on him as he faced what’s probably the hardest task of his life.
The TV volume lowers, and when I turn to face Dad, he’s looking at me.
“Go to work, Doodles. I’ll be fine.” When I don’t respond, he adds, “I won’t leave the house, I...I promise.”
But we both know there’s a good chance he’ll forget he even made that promise.
“I’ll do my best,” he adds sincerely, his forced smile squeezing my heart even more. “After today, I might consider extra locks so it takes longer for me to leave the house, giving my memory some time to kick in.”
“No! Please don’t do that, Dad. If we ever need to enter the house forcibly, it’ll take too much extra time.”
His eyes widen. “I didn’t consider that.”
I return to him and hold his hands. “We’ll find a way, Dad. Maybe I can move back home.” I’ll give up anything to make sure he’s safe right now.
“You can’t be with me twenty-four seven, kiddo. No one can.”
But that’s not entirely true. An idea sparks in my mind, tingling my skin. Since Dad’s first time getting lost, I’ve been thinking about it.
“But a full-time nurse can.”
“I—I don’t think I can afford that, Doodles.” Dad’s response is bland compared to my excited squeal.
“Let me worry about something for once, Dad.” I smile. I know it won’t be easy or cheap, but I’ve saved enough over the years. And I can always take out a loan.
Yes, everything is going to be okay.
Half of my chest breathes in relief while the other half braces itself for Charles Hawthorne’s impending wrath.
Focus on what you can control, Daisy. Your boss and his behavior are definitely not one of those things.
I’m mentally listing nearby hospitals to inquire about a full-time nurse when I hear a noise in the kitchen.
“What are you doing, Dad?” I rush to him as he’s transferring pancakes from my plate into my childhood Barbie lunch box.
“I’m not an invalid, kiddo. Plus, you need to be there.” He gestures toward the TV, where the camera shows a live feed of the town hall, with Charles’ picture inset.
“I can’t leave you right now.”
“Your life can’t come to a halt because of me, Doodles. I’ll try to make sure stuff like this happens less.” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and we both know it’s beyond his control. “Now, go.”
“But, Dad—”
“I’ll call Mel, and she’ll check on me a few times. Is that better?”
I’m grateful every day that Aunt Mel and Uncle Fred live right next door to Dad.
“Only for now,” I reply after a long pause. “But we still need to talk about a full-time nurse.”
He simply smiles at my words, and I know it’ll take some convincing.
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, kiddo. Now go. Your boss needs you.”
Stepping out of the house, I find Aunt Mel walking toward Dad’s wrought iron gate.
“How is he?” she asks carefully.
“He’s better. Can you please stay with him today?”
“Of course, hon. But he needs someone with him more often.” Aunt Mel’s eyebrows furrow. “I’ll ask Fred to spend more time with Jason, and maybe take a sabbatical myself.”
My chest squeezes in gratefulness at her concerned voice.
“You’re the best sister in the world. Do you know that?” I throw my arms around her. “I have a plan. I’ll tell you more about it in the evening. Right now, I have to reach the town hall.”
“Is Mr. Hawthorne really announcing his fiancée’s name?”
“What? No! Why would you ask that?”
“He’s doing an exclusive media interview for the first time. Isn’t it being called raw, personal, and honest? What’s more personal than that for him?”
“No, Aunt Mel. He’s definitely not doing that.”
“Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent. If he were doing such a thing, I’d definitely know it.” She doesn’t know that my boss is so precise and perfect that he’s rehearsed each of his statements for today more than a dozen times, and we’ve gone over them together more than that.
“Oh, really?” She shrugs. “What a shame, then.”
I understand that people are curious about Charles’ single status, but these days, everyone is a second away from being a reverend and marrying him off.
Leaving Aunt Mel with her disappointed thoughts, I slip into the back seat of Charles’ limo.
“Did Charles call you, Dave?” I ask as the car begins to move.
“You know him well, Daisy. He certainly did. But I told Mr. Hawthorne you were at your folks’, and it looked urgent,” Dave replies, meeting my gaze in the rearview mirror for a second.
“And?” My heart races with anticipation.
“He said not to disturb you.”
“Oh.” I’m a mix of confused and relieved at Charles’ unexpected understanding behavior, though concern for Dad quickly replaces every other feeling.
My fingers race across the phone screen as I search for the cost of a full-time nurse.
What on earth?
Aren’t there a few too many zeros on this figure?
I use my nail to trace along the digits on the screen, hoping I’m making a mistake in reading them, but the numbers stubbornly remain unchanged. My shoulders slump in defeat. Even with a loan and draining my savings, I wouldn’t be able to afford it for long. The figures stare back at me like an unsolvable puzzle, mocking my efforts.
Dad’s confused gaze and his uncertain voice saying my name flood my mind. Today, he recognized me, but I know someday he won’t.
My hand clutches at my chest, fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt. I blink rapidly, willing the tears away, but they refuse to listen. A droplet falls onto my hand, still clutching the phone.
Could this day possibly get any worse?
And within the hour, I receive my answer—a big blaring yes!