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I told him it was more similar to a dessert than a healthy, nutritious breakfast. He said with Mum gone, that we could treat ourselves a bit. I laughed, but we didn’t talk much after that.
Of course, then I was out to work. I worked at the local bookshop, just a brick and mortar store stuck in between the online revolution and those who liked their paperbacks.
When I got home, Michael was on the floor of the kitchen, with the over door open, and strewn all around him were bits and pieces of black metal.
“What’s going on?” I asked, and he looked up at me, sighing.
“I was going to do us a fancy roast tonight.”
“Mm, sounds delicious.”
“But… the oven gave out.”
“What do you mean, the oven gave out?” I asked, hoisting myself up onto the counter and swinging my legs.
“It just stopped working. I was getting ready to pre-heat the damn thing, and I heard a faint splutter… so I turned it off, couldn’t smell any gas. So I checked the gas, that’s all fine and the tank is still half-full. Looks like there’s a problem with the internal nozzle.”
“Uh, okay,” I said. “And you can fix that?”
“Honestly? I don’t know. But I’m giving it the old college try.”
“What if you cause a gas leak?”
“Allie,” he said. “I turned off the gas flow.”
“So what are we going to do for dinner?”
“You remember Nick?”
“Kind of. Your buddy, right?”
“Yeah, well he’s coming around and I asked him to grab a couple of pizzas.”
“You two going to play cards again?” I asked. Whenever Mum was gone… though I can’t say I blamed my step-father.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m going out, then.”
Michael sat up, and swiveled around on the ground to look at me, his arms resting on his knees. “I’m sorry?”
“I’m going out to meet Janet.”
“Your mother said you weren’t to go out with Janet anymore.”
“Oh, come on, Michael! It was just one time.”
“Your Mum reckons she’s a bad influence on you.”
“I think I’m old enough to not be influenced.”
“Well, you’d be wrong there. Anyway, sorry, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Daddy!” I whined, before cupping my mouth in shock for the second time that day. What was going on with me? For the last five years I’d never called him that, and now twice today?
“Uh,” he stammered, and then apparently decided to ignore it. “Last time you got into a car with her while she was drunk, and you let her drive! No is no.”
“But we’re not drinking!” I said, practically pleading with the man. “Come on. I won’t be home late. Let me go out and have some fun while you have some fun at home.”
