Everything Fragile✔

Chapter Twenty-Three - Most Things Said In Silence

   I haven't spoken to dad in what feels like forever. I don't know what to expect exactly, but he's on his way to pick me up right now. I sit on top of my suitcase outside of the luxury apartment complex, shivering against the cold. My jacket barely does a thing against the blistering wind. I could've waited inside, but it was suffocating. All those memories that lie there. It felt like a dream. I suppose it was for a moment, but now I'm awake. My eyes are wide; attentive.

   Sports car after sports car passes through. Either dropping someone off or picking someone up. It isn't until noon when my dad's familiar black Nissan pulls up in front of me. His old car. I thought that he trashed it after he got his Ferrari. I guess not.

   When he steps out of the car, he looks like a new person. Younger and more in shape. No beer gut and his face is cleanly shaven and his head is evenly cut. He wears a button down shirt tucked into cream colored pants. Even his socks match his outfit.

   "This is new." I say as he embraces me. His scent is different too. No lingering smell of cigar or whiskey. Just aftershave and some expensive cologne.

   "I got all pretty just for you, kid."

   "You look good. Too good. I feel underdressed."

   He chuckles softly, placing a hand over his chest. "You look alright to me."

   "Thank you."

   "Listen, I'm sorry about before-"

   I hold up a hand to stop him from continuing. "It's alright. It won't happen again, right?"

   He smiles, nodding his head. This time I believe him.

   "I got a nice surprise for you at home." Dad says. He smiles so hard his eyes begin to water. I let him take my suitcase and haul it into the trunk.

   "Oh yeah? I'm excited to see what it is."

   "You're going to love it." He says as we get into the car, starting up the engine. "Then, afterwards we can grab dinner. I made reservations."

   "Ooh! To where?"

   "Marina's."

   I tense at his words, turning to him with a pained look. I'm not ready to go back there. The wound of that place is still fresh, unhealed. I need more time before facing that trauma.

   "I know it's hard, but I think it's time you step foot in there again. I saw the mail from your boss. They want you back." Dad looks at me, waiting for a reaction. When I don't give him what he wants, he presses on. "I know that you don't need to work right now, but I saw first hand how happy that job made you. You may not realize it now, but you've got a passion for being in the kitchen. You can't let what happened stop you from being happy again. Plus, I miss when you used to cook for me. You're good at what you do."

   "It's too soon."

   "I don't think so. You're a lot stronger than you think, Quince."

   I don't know what to say to that, so I don't say anything at all. The remainder of the ride to the house is done in silence. I'm seething with rage and fear, barely able to contain my emotions. Dad notices. I can tell because he looks guilty, but I know that no matter how I feel about this, he won't change his mind. He'll haul my body onto his shoulder if he has to. He'll force me to face my fears even if it hurts. If Ugine Solvang was alive, if Caleb's hitman didn't get to him first, I'm sure dad would've dragged me to the prison to look him in the eyes. Despite how horrible it may sound, I'm glad that he's dead.

   We pull up to the house and I have to stifle my bad energy in order to mentally prepare myself for the surprise he has for me. No matter how much I hate these types of things, I'm still excited. We both get out of the car at the same time. I stand impatiently while dad unloads my suitcase from the trunk. He just smiles, purposely taking his time and I let out a groan of frustration.