Chapter 2 #2
Flopping back onto my mattress, I smiled at the ceiling. My dad was overprotective but I loved him for it. I understood him. After my mom died, he poured his energy into raising me. I wasn’t sure he knew how to do anything else.
Listening, I noticed the silence. No snoring. I looked at the closed door. It’d been open when I went to bed. That meant he was already up and moving around.
I got up and went to find him, not bothering to make my bed.
The boxes from the kitchen were neatly stacked in the living room.
The cheap wooden table and two battered chairs he’d found for me were already assembled and neatly placed against the stairway wall in the kitchen.
He’d dug out my toaster and stood over it, watching a bagel brown.
“Morning,” I said as I pulled out a chair. He moved to the coffee pot, poured a half a cup, and added water. He made tar, not coffee. I accepted the watered down version and sipped it. “What do you have planned today?”
“Racer said he’d help me find you a car.”
Not being able to bring my own car had led to a long negotiation.
Chuck knew my car, and Dad wasn’t willing to take any risks.
Yet, I didn’t want to be stuck somewhere with no means of getting around.
Dad had promised to get me a car once we were here but only if I promised not to go far with it.
My “sure, sure” answer had him frowning but he hadn’t said anything further.
“Really? When?”
“Today,” he smiled at me mischievously.
“Brat. You know what I mean. When did he say he’d help you?”
“This morning. I went out to check on the truck. He must’ve covered it last night so it didn’t get any worse. Passenger side’s still soaked, though. I opened the doors to dry it out.” The toaster popped, and he grabbed his bagel to dip into his cup-o’-sludge.
“You know, that never stops being gross.”
He grinned at me and took a bite with delight. After he swallowed, he motioned to the boxes. “While I’m out, take stock of what you need and call me. I can pick it up for you right away.”
“I have a vacuum and mop. That’s all I’ll need for the first few hours. But I’ll let you know if I come across anything else.”
Finishing my coffee, I set the cup in the sink and went to get dressed in my Saturday clothes. Grungy clothes meant for deep cleaning. By the time I had my cleaning supplies gathered, Dad was dressed and out the door. Just like at home.
I shook my head and moved down the hall to the bathroom.
Nothing was grimy, just generally dirty.
I scrubbed, mopped, and sanitized until every surface sparkled.
When I was done, I moved the bathroom supplies in.
My monkey shower curtain matched the tan tiling.
The dark brown bathmat and bronze soap dish with matching toothbrush holder managed to tone down the overly fun shower curtain.
After I peeled off my gloves, I vacuumed.
I moved from room to room, shuffling around boxes as needed.
The variegated, neutral carpeting didn’t seem too dated and didn’t show any wear.
If it weren’t for the thick dust in the corners, I would have guessed it recently installed.
After vacuuming, I stopped for my own breakfast. Eating first thing in the morning never appealed to me.
Dad and I had packed a small cooler from home.
It’d started out with a half-gallon of milk and some soda for the road.
The soda hadn’t lasted past dinner, making the milk the sole occupant of the fridge.
On top of the fridge sat my bag of marshmallow cereal, the only food I’d brought for myself.
The bagels Dad had thrown in his duffel.
He knew I didn’t like watching him dunk them in his coffee and wisely hid them away from me.
Holding my bowl of cereal, I spooned in several bites as I wandered around the apartment to check my progress.
My room consisted of a nightstand, all the pieces for my bed, and a few boxes.
I set the bowl on the nightstand and dug through the boxes until I found my mom’s jewelry box.
I set it on the nightstand and brushed my fingers over its top before picking up my bowl and continuing my inspection.
The second bedroom stored all of the empty boxes.
If Dad visited often, he’d bring another twin bed for it.
The living room had the futon, a little end table, and a slightly larger table for my small TV.
With so few furnishings, the small apartment seemed very spacious and, now, very clean.
I inhaled deeply. I had a pumpkin pie scented candle lit in the kitchen, which made it feel like home.
I placed my empty bowl by the sink and continued cleaning.
By the time I heard footsteps on the stairs, I had finished cleaning and unpacking.
I moved to the kitchen and opened the door, expecting Dad; instead, I surprised Racer and myself.
There were no shadows or knit cap to hide his features this time.
Shaggy brown hair. Beautiful eyes. A proud nose that looked like it had encountered more than one fight.
Short whiskers spread over his jaw and upper lip, shadowing the skin beneath.
I struggled to maintain the welcoming smile on my face instead of sighing.
Then I saw it. He still wore the same frown from the night before as he stood there with numerous bags looped over his arms.
Moving aside, I motioned him in. “Hi. Sorry. Thought it was Dad.”
“He’s coming up.” Racer set the mountain of plastic bags on the table.
“What’s all that?”
“Food.” He turned and walked out.
Okay…friendly. I left the door open and started unpacking groceries. This time when I heard footsteps on the stairs, I didn’t look up.
“I was thinking,” Dad said as he walked through to door. “I could stay a few extra—”
“Oh, no you don’t.” It was bad enough I was exiled out here.
I didn’t want him hovering over me the whole time.
Plus, I had questions I wanted to ask Racer.
“You have work and I have class. I’ve heard the online classes are harder than attending classes.
” I started stuffing the groceries into the cabinets.
“I checked the wireless connection and it works. Not the best, but it’ll do.
I’ll be busy and safe, Dad. Don’t worry. ”
He sighed and agreed.
While I put a can in a cupboard, I debated asking Dad about Racer. I decided to go for it but tried to sound only idly interested. “So how exactly are Racer and I related?”
Dad didn’t answer. In fact, I couldn’t hear him at all. I turned around to look for him. He stood with one hand in a grocery bag while staring at me in concern.
“What?”
A flush crept up his neck and into his cheeks. “Are you saying that you’re interested...”
I rolled my eyes. “Jeez, Dad. No.” Sure, I’d noticed Racer was good looking but I thought my dad a handsome man, too.
It’s called paying attention. But now that he was worried about it, I knew I’d need to clarify or he’d start packing me up to move again.
“I was just wondering if he might remember Mom. I thought I could ask him some questions. Talk. You know?”
Dad heaved a huge sigh of relief. “Oh. Good.” Then he frowned at me. “He’s not related at all, and he won’t answer any of your questions about your mother’s family. So don’t bother asking.”
I couldn’t keep the shock off my face. Not that he told me not to ask Racer. I was used to Dad being closemouthed about Mom. “You lied?”
His eyebrows rose. “No. Larry mentioned Racer. He was close to where the dart hit. Closer than any of your Mom’s family.” He turned away and started digging through the groceries. “You’re safe here. That’s all that matters.”