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Elise
My parents have definitely softened over this one and a half year.
I watch my father reading the news to Sophie who’s curled up against his chest, dozing.
I can smell the warm scent of freshly baked muffins wafting from the kitchen.
It’s been a while since I have relaxed like this.
The sound of the rain outside along with the cozy room, a fire blazing in the fireplace that my father had built expressly at my mother’s request, has me drowsy.
I’m sitting with my feet under me in the large armchair across from my father. He didn’t even protest when I stole one of his shirts.
My eyes are half closed as I listen to his voice droning on about some government investment.
I wonder what Lucas is doing right now.
I miss him.
If I was at work right now, he would be trying to convince me to take a long lunch with him and I would be refusing. Sighing under my breath, my heart unsettled, I ask my father, “Can I have the classifieds?”
He glances my way, “Why?”
I roll my eyes. “Because I want to start looking for a job, Da—Father.”
He catches my slip of the tongue but ignores it. “You’re in no shape to be working right now.”
I wonder if it’s possible for my eyes to fall out of my head if I roll them any harder. “I’m not going in to work tomorrow. If I apply now, I’ll hear from them in a few weeks.
He doesn’t look very pleased with my reasoning. “What’s your hurry? You have a child to look after.”
I’m starting to feel annoyed now. “Yes, and I have to feed this child, clothe her, send her to a good school. And I can’t do any of that if I don’t have money. And to get money, I have to work.”
His face scrunches in a scowl. “We have money!”
God, give me patience.
“Father, you have money. I don’t.”
“It’s the same thing!”
I’m gaping at him. “You’ve spent your whole life telling me different. I’m not taking your money. It’s yours, I can support my daughter!”
My father looks uncomfortable and looks to be gearing up to fight. “I’ve changed my mind!”
“You can’t just randomly change your mind!” I let out a frustrated sound, sitting up. “I’m not going to have Sophie grow up and think her mother was so reliant on her parents that she couldn’t even raise her daughter. I want her to understand that I worked hard to raise her.”
“Well, you don’t have to go to work as a receptionist somewhere! I’m planning to retire anyway. You can simply take over.”
All my words are lost.
Never in my life has my father said this to me.
I put myself through college, taking small-scale business classes, ones that I could afford. My parents had never offered to pay and at that point, I had known better than to ask them for the money.
Now, my father is acting as if me taking over his company had been an openly discussed plan this whole time.
“What?” I can sense the cracks in my composure but I ignore them.
