~~~~~
I was woken up around noon by my dad, who was gently shaking my shoulder and saying my name over and over again, obviously worried about something.
"Is something wrong, dad?" I groggily asked.
"Are you okay? I was getting so worried!"
"Yeah, I'm fine... why wouldn't I be?"
"I just... well, you're normally up by now, and..." he trailed off, embarrassed.
I realized what he was getting at. I had gotten everyone in to a set routine, always getting up first and making sure the household was set up for the day. I was irritated that apparently it was becoming an expectation for me to take care of the family, but I tried not to show it. I stretched, yawned, and straightened out my clothes so they didn't look quite so much like I had slept in them.
"Have you and mom eaten?" I asked.
He nodded eagerly. "I made breakfast for us. Well, I tried to. The bacon was pretty crispy and the toast was really dry, but we've eaten."
I gave him a hug and said, "That's great, dad. I'm glad you made food for yourself this morning."
He nodded, pleased with himself, and left my room. I sat back on my bed, depressed. Getting mom and dad back in the kitchen was great; cooking together was the one thing that I always remembered them enjoying doing, but to see my dad so proud of himself for attempting (and apparently failing at) something that he should have been able to do in his sleep just reminded me how far my parents were from recovery.
I remembered the wards I had been given and pulled them out of my pocket. I turned them over in my hand and thought about where to put them. Over the doorway to their bedroom, definitely. The other set would go deep between the couch cushions, since my parents were still spending most of their time there. I peeked my head out my doorway to see if there was anyone upstairs. I didn't see or hear anything, but still tiptoed on my way to my parent's bedroom door. I quickly stashed two of the wards above the door, then nonchalantly made my way downstairs. Mom and dad were already stationed at the couch, so I put the other two wards above the main level bathroom door. I'd move them later tonight, after they had gone to bed.
I made lunch for myself and got a dinner together for my parents that they could easily heat up in the oven on their own, since I'd be gone that night. I showered and got ready for my dinner with Jack, even though it was still hours away before he promised to pick me up, so I spent the afternoon studying the origami book Arvin had given me.
At one point Arvin started shouting unintelligibly, and I rushed downstairs to see what was going on. Thankfully nothing was wrong; quite the opposite, in fact. Ammon had sent not just one, but four post cards; one for mom and dad and one each for me, Arvin and Terra. Since the last word we had gotten from him was before Thanksgiving telling us he wouldn't be joining the family for the holiday and he’d be unable to reach us for quite some time, we were overjoyed to hear from him.
He didn't send us individual post cards often, but when he did it was usually because he had a lot to say and we ended up sharing our cards with each other anyway. According to the post cards, he had been traveling around south eastern Asia and been working on a piece on customs in various cultures that had been surviving for centuries. He was sad that he missed the holidays with us, but the families he was living with were really hospitable and did their best to make them feel like one of their own. My card in particular read:
Makenna -
I got your letter. I'm glad you liked the magazine! I think it's going to be one of the central pieces to my portfolio. I met a really cool guru while traveling through India. He's probably a hundred years old and has taught me some cool things about the spiritual world. If he wasn't adamant about remaining anonymous, he'd be the main story in my next piece.
Keep dancing,
Ammon
I was, to say the least, disappointed. He had nothing to say about any of the problems I had written to him about. The only things that even acknowledged that I had written him were the very first and last things he wrote. Well, it was a long shot that he'd understand my message anyway, so I took it up to my room and pinned it to the cork board above my desk. At least the post card looked cool, in a post-modern sort of way - it was a collage of some of the pictures that obviously didn't make the cut for his last piece, but nothing really fit together well. It just looked like bits and pieces of photos randomly arranged on the card.
I had a nagging feeling that I was missing something as I looked at it up on my wall, but before I could think about it too much I noticed that it was already four forty five and realized that I needed to do some last-minute touchups to my hair and makeup. I tried telling myself that I was being silly - Jack had seen me at my worst, so he probably wasn't going to notice if my eye shadow wasn't perfectly even, but I was still, for a reason I could not quite pin down, nervous about impressing him.
I anxiously sat on the stairs, ready to spring up the moment he knocked on the door. Dad passed by from the living room to get to the kitchen and paused to figure out why I was sitting on the stairs in a dress and my heavy coat and boots.
"Are you going out tonight?" he asked.
"Yeah, Jack's taking me to dinner. Oh, yeah! I made a casserole for you and mom and Arvin tonight. All you have to do is cook it at three fifty degrees for about forty minutes. I can get the oven preheated for you if you want," I said, getting up to go help out.
"Well, wait, hold on a second. Is this the same Jack that I'm thinking of?"
"I only know one..."
Dad frowned. "Is this a date?"
"I... well... no?"
"What happened to that nice boy? Dane?"
"He's gone. Gone, gone, remember? I'd have dumped him any way. Dad, Jack's just going to take me to dinner and then for a walk somewhere. It's just like hanging out with him, except he's going to pay for my dinner."
Dad sighed disapprovingly. "I don't want you going. I can't ground you - obviously that was a bad parenting strategy on my part. But I can warn you that getting romantically involved with him is most likely going to get you hurt in the end, and I can disapprove of this."
A knock on the door kept me from starting an argument with him. "Don't worry about me, dad. I can take care of myself. Thanks for watching out for me." I gave him a quick hug and opened the door. I managed to slip out before dad and Jack could interact, which I'm sure irked dad, but I didn't want to ruin this evening.
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