“Aw, Tammy,” Dad stopped his search and turned to face me, looking genuinely apologetic. “Your old man’s a jerk – I didn’t even think to ask you about Dean. I’ll miss that guy. I remember him as a kid – always runnin’ up and down the neighborhood with a football…”
This was the nicest compliment that I had ever heard Dad give Dean, especially considering the fact that Dad had never really liked him and had only tolerated him because of the love a father has for his daughter. But it was no secret Dad thought that Dean’s throwing arm was weak, his dodging skills sucked, and that he clearly wasn’t good enough for his daughter. So coming from my Dad, this was truly a commendation.
“He committed suicide – well, that’s what I heard.”
“Dean?” Dad replied, screwing up his face in obvious confusion. “Dean committed suicide? But that just doesn’t sound like him. He was just so… so…”
“Committed to his life,” I filled in, speaking on more levels than one.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s it.”
A silent, but un-awkward pause.
“I’m so sorry kiddo. I really am.”
“I know, Dad. Thanks,” was my reply, comforted by his truth.
* * *
That night, I ran a bubble bath after dinner, needing time to simply unwind and de-stress (if that was even possible).
Personally, I thought mine was the best deal in all the house. Mom and Dad had the biggest bedroom, Margie had the most closet space, and I made away with the nicest bathroom. The walls were comprised of yellow and white tile with cute pictures of ducks and silly bathroom sayings that were all framed in glass. At this age they should have been childish, but something about missing my mother forced me to hold onto them. To make up for it, the yellow bath mats were all thick and plush, and along the spacious countertop were two oval - shaped sinks with plenty of drawers and cabinet space beneath. However, the most perfect aspect of the entire bathroom was most certainly the white, claw-footed tub. It was deep, extra-long and extra wide, with a massaging showerhead and an opaque, grey curtain that encircled the entire thing. If a vainer girl I had been, I never would’ve shared it.
Dressed in nothing but a bathrobe, and with my hair in a messy pile upon the top of my head, I sat on the edge of the tub, trailing my hand along the face of the water. It was hot, but not uncomfortable, with a thick mass of white bubbles coating its surface. Standing, I slipped out of the robe and into the tub with a long, delicious sigh. I sank downwards until my chin touched the water, wet my wash cloth, folded it and placed it across my forehead.
I was asleep in minutes.
YOU ARE READING
Faetality |✓|
Teen Fiction❝You and me, darlin', we're gonna have a whale of a time...❞ Shortly after her sixteenth birthday, Tamsyn James has her first encounter with the Fae - a deadly group of beings from a place called the Otherworld. Not long after finding out she's one...
