Chapter Twenty-Five
Blake
I’d driven home in a fit of rage and slammed pots and pans around the kitchen as I prepared dinner for Nina and me. She poked her head into the kitchen, but quickly ducked out without asking questions when she saw the mood I was in. A little while later, I called her to supper, and we ate in relative silence as I stewed over what had happened at Emily’s.
Nina kept quiet as she turned on a movie and we settled in to watch it. Driven by my feelings, I was too restless to sit still for long; I left Nina to watch the movie while I worked out my anger scrubbing the kitchen floor. I muttered to myself about Emily’s parents and their rudeness, and I tried to make sense of what Emily had shouted at us. Why had she been so angry at me?
I went to bed long after Nina had turned in, and tossed and turned all night. By morning, I found myself reaching for my phone to see if Emily had called. When I realized she hadn’t, I felt like the air had been let out of me. I thought about calling her, but quickly nixed the idea when I remembered how angry she’d been and how she’d ordered me out of her house.
If Emily wanted to talk to me, she was going to have to pick up the phone and call.
“You okay, Dad?” Nina yawned, as she flopped down on the couch.
“Yeah, fine. Why?”
“You look like someone killed your dog,” she observed.
“I don’t have a dog,” I shrugged. “You want breakfast or do you want to go out? Maybe see a movie?”
“Yeah, sure,” she said, giving me a strange look. “I’ll get ready.”
We stopped for lunch at the diner and ate quickly so that we could make the early afternoon show. We spent two hours watching teenager after teenager get murdered by an unknown assailant, and by the time we came out of the dark theater, it was getting close to dinner.
“Let’s stop and grab steaks,” I suggested. “I’ll fire up the grill, and we can put some potatoes in the oven. What do you say?”
“Dad, we just at lunch two hours ago,” Nina sighed. “I’m not hungry.”
“I know, but in an hour or two, you’re going to be whining that you’re starving and then you’ll tell your mother that I never feed you,” I said dryly.
“True dat,” Nina agreed. “Okay, steak and potatoes! You want to call Emily and invite her over for dinner?”
“She’s busy tonight,” I said, tersely cutting off any further conversation. Wisely, Nina remained silent on the issue.
As usual, I was right, and by the time I’d grilled the steaks and baked the potatoes, Nina was hanging around the kitchen telling me she was starving. I laughed as I piled the steaks on a platter and pulled the steaming potatoes out of the oven and tossed them in a bowl.
“Damn, Dad, you’re the master griller!” Nina grinned, as she cut into her steak. “Emily’s gonna be sorry she missed this.”
“No doubt,” I said, as I shoved a piece of meat into my mouth to avoid having to say more. Once I’d chewed and swallowed, I said, “So, school starts again next week, eh?”
“Yeah, I’m feeling optimistic about my grades, though,” Nina replied.
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t know,” she shrugged, as she scooped sour cream out of the plastic container and dumped it on her potato. “Maybe it was the trip to the museum that made me think about all the things I could be doing if I got good grades. Or maybe I’m just growing up.”
“Perish the thought,” I said, rolling my eyes the way she did. Nina laughed loudly as she dug her fork into her potato.
We spent the rest of the meal talking about what we planned to do over the next several weekends, and Nina reminded me that she was going to be staying with me when Remy went to Europe in the spring. I made a mental note to get a copy of Remy’s life insurance papers just in case.
After dinner, we cleaned up and halfheartedly watched a crappy movie on TBS before Nina announced she was heading to bed. I heard her getting ready, and once I was sure she was tucked in, I peeked into her room.
“Night, Punkin,” I said. “You know I love you, don’t you?”
“I do,” she smiled, as she looked up from the book she had propped on her knees. “I love you, too, Dad, but you know, whatever is wrong between you and Emily, you need to fix it. Seriously, dude. She’s good for you.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind,” I nodded, as I backed out into the hallway, pulling her door shut.
Once in bed, I reached over and grabbed my phone off the nightstand. I held it as I thought about Emily and about how nice it was to have her around. And how much nicer it was to have her in my bed.
I looked at the blank screen on the phone and then reached over and set it on the charger before I turned out the light.