“It’s a mobile application to help police or people in the security biz, like Dad. It’ll come in handy in cases like the current abductions in the next town or random muggings.”
“You know about the abductions?” I interrupt her again. My body tenses at this news. I don’t want her to be aware of the horrid details of those cases.
Mere sips her water before waving her hand around. “Everyone knows, Dad. It’s all over the news.”
Fucking hell! Journalists. Those vultures, of course.
“Then you know to be careful.” I subtly tilt my head toward the entrance, where her keychain tracker hangs.
My racing heart calms when she sincerely nods.
“I didn’t know you could code.” Tonight is a night of revelations. It’s like I’m seeing my daughter for the first time. My own grief has gripped me so tight that I’m failing to see Mere is no longer a kid.
She’s growing up.
“I’m learning.” Mere shrugs in embarrassment.
“I have a very good friend named Rose. She’s this computer geek with a photographic memory and all. If you need any advice, you can’t find a better person than her.” Clementine continues the conversation in excitement, oblivious to my overwhelming and guilt-laden mood.
After the dinner is over, our tenant takes a step to the loft when Mere calls after her, “If you feel scared at night, you can use the living room again.”
I’m about to put my foot down and establish some new house rules, which include everyone sleeping in their own beds, when Clementine jumps the gun. “Thank you so much. That’s so nice of you to offer, but I’ll be fine. I left the sheets to dry this morning and my bed is good as new. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Mere wishes me good night with a rare smile and retreats to her room, while I’m rooted in place.
Tonight was an eye-opener. I learned more about my daughter in an hour than in the past six months. My legs won’t go to my room where I hide from reality every night. I stay in the kitchen, wondering if I did right taking Clementine in. She did help Mere loosen up, but it didn’t bring me any closer to my daughter.
My doubts go alive in the dark. I worry if Clementine’s presence will do the opposite, push Mere away from me, as my daughter will have someone more cheerful and warm to bond with.
My sleep is disturbed by a foreign noise. I glance at the nightstand and the digital clock reads five a.m. The strange metal rattling sound comes again and I bolt out of bed, grabbing my gun.
The living area is quiet. I turn Mere’s doorknob, but she’s fast asleep, clutching the purple pillow. I close the door quietly, and hear the sound again, louder this time.
It’s from outside.
I open the main door, expecting to find a stray dog. But there she is!
Clementine, dressed in boots and an oversized jacket, trying to open the gate.
“What the hell are you doing?” I growl, reaching her in two big steps. “Are you suffering from insomnia?”
“What? No!” Her hand still struggles with the latch on the metal gate. “I’m going to buy coffee.” She takes out my coffee mug from her jacket. “I didn’t steal it, okay? I borrowed it.”
“They serve you coffee in mugs in St. Peppers too, you know.”
“Did you just make a joke?” She giggles.
She fucking giggles at this ungodly hour.
“It’s five in the morning.” I shake my head in exasperation. This girl. This crazy girl. “Why are you taking the mug?”
“I don’t like the taste of to-go mugs. Coffee tastes like cardboard in them.”
“What fucked-up logic is that? And you can always drink in the shop.”
If one is open at this hour.
“Yes, but I have an idea and I need coffee before I can work on it.” She looks between me and where her hand is resting over the metal. “Your gate is rusted. It won’t open easily. Why don’t you get it changed?”