Written in the Stars

16: Daddy Issues

❝you made a rebel of the careless man's careful daughter❞

- mine : taylor swift

Realizing that your parents are only human is a defining moment in every young adult's life, but that didn't make it any easier for Kit Knight to swallow. It started with a call from an unknown number. Kit shuffled around the kitchen with her cell phone wedged between her cheek and raised shoulder. She couldn't pinpoint the voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Kit, wow. You sound so grown up–"

Her brows furrowed. She paused.

"Sorry," she responded. "Who is this?"

The reply made her head spin. She nearly spilled her cup of water. Gripping the edge of the counter until her knuckles turned white, Kit steadied herself. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Her voice didn't feel like her own as she muttered:

"Dad?"

When the twins were really little, Kit Knight had been quite the daddy's girl. She adored him to the point that she put on one of Kendall's baseball caps and marched proudly up to their mother one afternoon. Firmly, and without really knowing better, Kit told her that she wanted to be a boy so she could be just like her Daddy and like Kenny. Jennifer Knight chuckled at her three-year-old daughter and scooped her up into her arms. She peppered kisses across Kit's face, spinning her. By the time she put her back on the floor, Kit was already running off to join her twin and their Dad for a game of t-ball.

The twins were six and Jennifer was heavily pregnant with Katie the last time that they saw their father. There was no big fight. No ceremonious sign that their little family was about to change forever. Just the rumbling of the garage door from below the twins' room that woke Kit up. She rubbed at her sleepy eyes as she crawled out of bed. Kendall's bed remained still. Kit waited for him to turn over before she moved. Shuffling to the window, she cracked open the blinds with her fingers. The street below was quiet and still. Everyone else in Shakopee was still sound asleep this time of night.

Except for Rick Knight. His car idled in their driveway briefly as he stepped out. Kit watched with wide eyes as he disappeared from view, only to return moments later with a suitcase in his hands. He stuffed it into his trunk and slammed it shut. As he turned, Rick craned his head upwards at the house. He made eye contact with Kit through her window. The little girl's hazel eyes pleaded with him to go back inside. He never did. Instead, he climbed back into his car and sped off into the night. After staring at the empty street a moment longer, she crept silently back into bed. Kit wiped her tears away as they fell and quieted her breathing. She would hate to wake up Kendall.

"–Tonight at 7?"

Her father's voice brought her back to the present. Kit blinked. She ran her fingers absently through her hair.

"Uh, yeah," Kit agreed. "Okay. Sounds good."

As she hung up the phone, Kit giddily spun around on her feet. Seven o'clock couldn't come soon enough.

Her brother's entrance startled her. With wide eyes, she spun in her socks to face him.

"Kendall," she began. "You're not gonna believe this, but I just had the weirdest phone call–"

As she recalled the unexpected conversation, Kendall saw a certain excitement in her that he hadn't since they were little. The news hung in the air like bad perfume. Kendall let his hands fall limply to his sides. He struggled to wrap his head around what Kit had just told him. That hopeful gleam in her eyes didn't sit right with Kendall. Suddenly, she was the same seven-year-old girl who fell asleep at the windowsill every night for months on end, Mr. Moo in hand, as she waited in vain for their father to come back. The same heartbroken and confused kid who Kendall helped back into her own bed every time.