I was still flustered by the time I got home. I stood outside my apartment door for a few moments before opening it, willing my flushed face to go away. I didn't want my sister to notice and start asking questions. She always called me the calm, unflappable one. If only she knew how close my inner rage monster always was to bursting from my chest with an explosion of gore and curse words.

"Hope? I'm home," I called out when I stepped through the doorway.

No answer.

I kept on forgetting Hope had practically moved in with her boyfriend. We were still technically roommates, but with her nightly sleepovers and my hectic work schedule, our weekly scheduled lunches were the most I ever saw of her now.

It was nice having the place to myself. For the first time, I was living under a roof with no parents or roommates. It was freeing.

That was what I kept telling myself. I ignored the small kernel of disappointment that formed in my stomach every time I walked into an empty apartment.

I decided to throw together a quick beef and broccoli recipe using leftovers in the fridge before the broccoli went bad. I always tried to cook at home as much as possible, to offset all the dinners out I had because of work. Whether it was an event, or wining and dining clients, or simply because I was so swamped I only had enough time for take-out, I relished the days I got to eat a home-cooked meal.

As I chopped up the broccoli for my stir fry, my gaze wandered to the calendar on the fridge. Today's date had a small star in the corner. My heart sunk a little.

Crap. With Damon's little visit, I'd forgotten what day it was.

Thinking quickly, I grabbed some bags of frozen veggies from the freezer and took out two packets of ramen noodles. With a few extra ingredients, my small beef and broccoli dish easily became a stir fry with enough to feed a person for several days.

While the stir fry cooked, I took out a large bowl of Cobb salad with hardboiled eggs, shredded cheese and diced tomatoes, and covered it with plastic wrap. I'd been planning eating it for lunch for the next few days, but I'd just have to plan something else.

Once the stir fry was ready, I portioned it out into four plastic containers. I put the food into a reusable shopping bag, grabbed my purse and went back to my car.

The drive across town was long, but not any longer than I'd expected considering the rush hour traffic. An hour and a half later, I pulled into a two-story house. The grass on the front lawn was getting long. I'd have to speak to the neighborhood kid I paid to mow it every week. He was slacking on his job.

I took out my keys, but discovered I didn't need them. The door was already unlocked. With a sigh, I entered the house, making sure to lock the door behind me. I put the food in the mostly-empty fridge, keeping out one of the now-lukewarm containers of stir fry. A few cans of soda, a jar of pickles, and several Asian food take-out boxes were the only things in there. Voices were coming from the next room over. The television was on, as usual. I headed to the living room.

"Dad, you can't keep forgetting to lock the door," I said.

The man in the beige leather armchair didn't turn his head. I stood between him and the television, blocking his view.

My dad blinked, his eyes focusing on me.

"Faith." He fumbled with the remote in his hand, setting it on the armrest. "Is it Wednesday?"

"Yeah. I brought you some food. Stir fry with beef and teriyaki sauce."

He lumbered from the armchair and shuffled his way to the kitchen, wearing sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt. At least he wasn't in his bathrobe.

I took one of the containers and split the food between two plates, giving him the bigger portion. As I nuked it in the microwave, I turned to him.

"How are you feeling today?" I asked.

"Not too bad." He sat down heavily at the kitchen table. It was covered with empty coffee mugs and dirty dishes. I gathered them all up and put them in the sink for later.

"Have you spoken to Hope recently?" I asked.

"Not in a while." He spoke the words slowly, as if every syllable cost him a year of his life.

"She's doing good. Her new boyfriend is really great for her."

He nodded vaguely.

"I'm doing fine, too." I struggled for something to say. My mind flashed to my meeting with Damon. I certainly wasn't going to tell my dad about the gorgeous, infuriating rock star who made me want to Hulk-out. "My boss called me her best event specialist today."

"Hm," he said noncommittally.

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I took the plates from the microwave, set them on the table and took a seat across from my dad.

I looked around the kitchen, taking in the dirty floor and sticky counters. For a week's worth of mess, it could have been worse. Usually I did a bit of light tidying every time I came, but I'd have to do another deep clean some time soon.

I examined my dad for a moment. His hair looked washed and he only had a few days of stubble. That was an improvement over last month.

"Have you done laundry recently?" I asked.

He shrugged noncommittally. I took that as a no. I'd have to add laundry to the list.

"Mikey broke his leg," my dad said out of nowhere.

"Mikey?" I asked.

"The kid who mows the grass."

That explained the state of the front lawn. It was the one chore I could afford to delegate. Pay a kid ten bucks a week and he was more than happy to do yard work.

"I'll call his mom and see if one of his friends might want the job," I told him.

My dad nodded in agreement.

We ate the rest of the meal mostly in silence.

When my dad finished, he put down his knife and fork. He stared at the empty plate, avoiding my eyes.

I reached out and took his hand.

"How are you doing, Dad?" I asked again. "Really, I want to make sure you're okay."

He looked up. He slowly pulled his hand away. "I told you. I'm doing fine."

A familiar stab of pain shot through my chest.

"I'm glad to hear it," I managed to say.

I took our plates and put them in the sink, turning my back on him. I normally would have done a bit of cleaning up, but I couldn't make myself stay any longer.

I showed my dad the rest of the food in the fridge for the next few days.

"Maybe some time soon we can go out for dinner with Hope and her boyfriend," I said. "So you can finally meet him."

"Maybe. I'll think about it." His eyes slid back to the living room, where the television still blared.

"Okay. Well. I have to get going now." Tears stung the back of my eyes. "I'll see you again next week."

He wandered back to his armchair without another word.

I left and locked the door behind me. I got into my car. I gripped the steering wheel tight.

Deep breath in. And out.

I pulled out of the driveway and made my way back home.

I ignored the salty-wet tears falling down my cheeks.