AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Would you care for some tea?” Jessica asked, her hearing still altered by the headphones.
“Yes, but I think we should have breakfast first.”
“Okay.”
If only her Uncle Dean could be half as agreeable as little Jessica, we wouldn't have nearly the same amount of trouble.
I got Jessica to the kitchen table, hugging Mr. Otter, who she had insisted on bringing with her. I could certainly understand her need for comfort and loyalty. Putting a glass of orange juice down for her, I got to making pancakes.
No sooner was the last flapjack flipped, the breakfast meats cooking away in their own separate pan, than Dean made an appearance. Looking like something freshly dug up from the grave, he was still wearing the same clothes as the night before, and they were beginning to smell like it.
Kissing Jessica on the cheek, Dean sat down at the head of the table. The disheveled Lord of a quarantined manor.
I had the urge to spit in his bacon. It was childish, but it was also a passing fancy. I didn't know what was going on, and he could very well have a perfectly reasonable explanation for how he was acting. And I was just dying to hear it.
“Thanks,” he said softly as I put down his plate and glass.
“So, you can speak,” I said, sitting across from Jess.
“Yeah,” he said, pouring a miniature bottle of Vodka from his pocket into his orange juice.
I really didn't understand it. We had so much fun before — more than I ever would have expected or dreamed of. How could the man who took my virginity turn so cold all of a sudden? I thought Dean really liked me. For all I knew, he did, though if that was the case, he sure had a funny of showing it.
“How's your breakfast?” I asked, trying to draw him out a bit.
“Good.”
“I had a tea party,” Jessica said.
“Really?”
“Uh, huh, Mr. Otter was there and Bunny Bun and Squirrel Girl and Sugar Bear. Becky came a bit later, but I still asked if she wanted tea. It's always good to be polite.”
Her uncle didn't really have anything to say to that, so Dean just stared into his bacon and flapjacks and brooded. I'd even gone to the trouble of using the tasty blueberry syrup, too.
Jessica started yawning near the end of breakfast, still excited but also tired from the day of fun she had had the day before. She actually seemed to let herself be herself. I couldn't understand why Dean couldn't see that he was not the only one who was grieving. The difference was, I wasn't convinced that Jessica really knew what was going on, or if she did, how to process it. Accepting the death of a loved one being hard enough for an adult, let alone a kid barely old enough for public school.
Cleaning his plate, Dean disappeared again. Leaving me to take care of his niece as well as wash the dishes. Putting the dishes in the sink, deciding I could wash them later, I took Jessica to her room. It was a bit early for her nap, which she usually didn't have until after lunch, but she was just so tired I didn't really think it could hurt for her to get a few more hours.
“What book would you like?” I asked, tucking her in.
“Chu's Day!” Jessica enthused.
“Always a classic,” I agreed.
“Don't be silly, it only came out in 2013.”
“How do you know that? You weren't even alive.”
“Google.”
“Of course.”
She was most of the way to dreamland by the time I finished the book. It was thirty-six pages, after all, a near magnum opus of the cute animal genre. A little bit of Tip-Toe Thru the Tulips, and the little girl was out like a light.
For some reason, I was still worried about Dean. My concern mixing with a healthy dose of anger and confusion. When I was rallied enough, I went to look for him, already having a pretty good idea where he would be. As I went to his office, I strengthened my resolve. No matter what was happening, or how much it might hurt, I had to talk to him. I had to ask him what was wrong and what was going on with the two of us.
The office door was locked. The usually furious typing barely audible over the blast of the music from his stereo. The lyrics to the song as clear as they were disturbing: Goin' crazy/Losin' my mind/I need you more than my life.
My anxiety went through the roof. What was going on with this man I was locked up with?Chapter Twelve - DeanI couldn't do attachment. It’s not that I didn't want to. If I was honest, if to no one else then at least to myself, if I was going to commit to anyone, it would have been Becky. But I couldn't. Me trying to commit fully, or even significantly, would be like a psychopath trying to love someone. It was just fucking impossible.
