14

~ Lindsey ~

Sunlight peeks through my window, waking me up. I must have finally dozed off sometime last night. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours. Dad saw right through me last night and refused to let me stay up watching TV, knowing I was planning an all nighter.

The little sleep that I did get l did not include any more nightmares. I guess I should count that as a blessing. I head out of the bedroom and see Dad in khaki dress pants, brown dress shoes, a white button up, and a blue tie.

“You look nice,” I tell Dad sleepily, as I wipe my eyes.

“Oh good morning kiddo! Sorry if I woke you up. I didn’t make breakfast, sorry.”

He comes around to give me a hug and a kiss on the crown of my head.

“I just wanted to see you before you left. Did you leave any coffee?” I asked, a mix of hope and desperation in my voice. I need caffeine desperately.

“Yeah I’ve only had one cup. I heard you last night, so I made a full pot. Did you get any rest?” The concern in his voice is evident. I imagine he didn’t get much sleep either.

“Yeah a little.” I move to grab a cup from the cabinet and creamer from the fridge. I don’t see how people can drink coffee black.

“I’ll be back after lunch. Just gotta learn their system and fill out some legal papers.”

“I’ll be fine Dad. It’s just a nightmare. There’s plenty of work for me to do around here to make myself busy.” I try to sound confident but the exhaustion in my voice probably doesn’t help.

“Ok. Just call if you need me. Mr. Matt left his number in case you can’t get me for some reason. I’m going to head out. I love you.” Dad grabs his wallet and his keys before going out the front. I get out a “love you” before he closes the door.

Last night after I came in he told me he wanted to take me to counseling. After much arguing, I finally convinced him to give me a little more time to adjust before we made that decision. I think I’d rather live my nightmares before I go through that again.

When Mom died, he took me to counseling to “work through my grief”. I know he had to work through some things too but asking me to draw pictures and working with pictures that apparently were to help see how I was being affected felt dumb even as a kid. I got more out of talking with Hunter or Aunt Kayla. But Dad thought I needed professional help, not just family. Talking with a complete stranger about personal things just feels wrong. I know it helped him, but it just wasn’t for me.

After my second cup of coffee, I went to get ready for the day. I threw my hair up in a clip and brushed my teeth before throwing on a t-shirt and joggers.

After refilling my coffee cup, I went to wash all the clothes that we bought yesterday. I hated wearing clothes that were straight from a store. Call me a germaphobe but there’s no telling who put their hands on those or where those hands have been.

I washed the few dirty dishes that were in the sink before finding something to cook for dinner. Finally, I sat down on the couch to relax.

True to his word, Dad got back around 1. He brought me a French dip sandwich from in town. The bread was toasted to perfection, and the au jus was still warm. I sank my teeth into it and realized that I might be in love with a sandwich.

“Dad where did this masterpiece come from?” I said, forgetting all manners and talking between bites.

“A local spot not far from the hospital. Rosie’s I think. Might be a regular, huh?” He teased. I love a sandwich shop more than just about any other causal dining place.

“Definitely. This is the best thing I’ve tasted in a while. You’ve got to show me where it’s at.” My eyes rolls to the back of my head in sheer ecstasy. Who knew a sandwich would take every bit of stress from my body?

Dad laughed. “I guess I can go by a day next week if you’d like. Tomorrow I thought I’d take you out somewhere nice. After you finish eating, go out on something a little nicer. We’re going to register you for school, and you need to make a good first impression.”

“Yes sir. But it might be a while because I’m savoring every bite of this.”

Dad has a thing about looking nice whenever we meet new people. I think it’s because he grew up in the beta family. Granddad was very strict on appearances, and rightfully so. They were one of the most important families in the pack.

So, after I finish eating my sandwich blessed by the goddess herself, I go and find a sweater dress that Dad had packed. It was one of my favorites; it was light blue with a lace lining at the bottom. I paired it with some black flats Dad had also packed from my closet. I realized looking at the rest of the clothes in my duffel bag that he had thrown all the clothes that I had recently washed in the bag. I let a small laugh escape before realizing how fast he must have moved to get us out. I check my hair and put on a little makeup before deciding I look well enough. I come out of my room and ask for his approval.

“How do I look?” I ask, taking a spin.

“Beautiful as always,” he smiles. “Ready to go?”