Love, Dad

3. One More Day

It had to count for something, my coming back here. Maybe I hadn't made it seem like that these past two days, but today I was going to get it right. The clock on the wall said I still had a couple minutes before Caiti got here, and when she did breakfast would already be on the table. If she liked me, then I was sure she could soften the blow with dad, make him not think so disapprovingly of me when I departed later today. It unnerved me to consider how I could break that to him, and I hadn't forgotten that I'd assured Caiti I would talk to him about going to a home. Well, at this point it would be a hospice. Both very negative things when I wanted him to be pleased with me.

I heard her pulling up while I slid the eggs out of the skillet, and a quick check of the time said that she was right on schedule as I set the plates on the table. Just as I had yesterday, I went to the door and got it for her, following her down the hall and directing her to the kitchen. When she saw what waited for her she turned and looked at me, a strange expression on her face. I couldn't exactly place it—which was odd for me, a master of emotion. It didn't last long anyway, and she smiled and shook her head with a chuckle, tossing her purse down on the counter.

"Thank you, but I don't have time for that." Her hair still looked wet, as if she hadn't had time to dry it before coming, but she wrapped it in a bun anyways.

"Sure you do, I'll go get my dad and wheel him out here." When I turned to do just that, she caught me by the arm, stopping me as she hummed slightly.

"Your dad doesn't eat breakfast." Caiti went to retrieve one of the glasses of orange juice sitting on the table, taking a drink of it before shuddering and setting it back down. "The medication he takes makes him nauseous and it seems worse for him in the mornings. Those are his words." She added.

"Okay," I nodded and patted my thighs, thinking, "well he's not up yet, so I'm sure it can wait twenty minutes." Though I wasn't even using my full level of charisma, she grinned as if I were.

"Fine, but we can't make a habit out of it." With her acceptance I went and pulled out the chair for her, waiting until she was seated to take my own. We smiled at each other and began eating in silence. I had anticipated dad being out here with us, but I would have to make do. I waited a little bit, partly because I wanted to see if there was anything she wanted to say and partly because I didn't want it to seem like I was trying to force conversation between us.

"So, Caiti, I don't recognize you, you didn't go to school here did you?" As I had deduced the other day, I now knew that she was fairly young, only slightly older by a couple years. Still, that wouldn't have made enough of a difference for me to have missed her all the time I lived here.

"No, I'm from Massachusetts—born and raised. I moved out here about three years ago after I got my certification." Caiti shrugged, not thrilled with facing her own memories.

"And you moved to the middle of nowhere? Come on, I'm sure this isn't where you pictured yourself." I laughed a little in what I thought was good fun, but she remained expressionless and I considered that I might have offended her.

"You never know where your life will take you," she shrugged again and then changed, beaming, "look at you, you've certainly gone far."

"Well, I have yet to accomplish anything really. But I mean, have you seen my work?" Cupping my jaw in my palm, I placed my elbow on the table to listen to her answer. That did amuse her, and she giggled while holding her hand over her mouth.

"I have." As her grin widened, she eyed me out of her peripheral. "You're talented, Gabe. I loved you as Heath in season four of Danger in Denial."