“This is not why we bought this chair, Keith,” Mel mumbles, as I start unbuttoning her shirt. “What will the baby say?”
“I think she’ll be happy to see Daddy giving Mommy a much-needed dose of love.”
“She?”
“I believe in your stupid dreams.”
I close the box, putting all the contents back inside, but fail to keep the memories from slipping out.
“I failed you, Mel,” I whisper in the dark. “Our daughter doesn’t trust me enough to share her feelings with me. I failed to make her happy and loved. I failed as a husband in saving you and now I am failing as a father.”
12
CLEMENTINE
I turn in my bed and find Snowy next to me, far away from the blanket I spread for her on the floor.
“Didn’t you hear, girl, you aren’t supposed to get close to me?”
Of course, she doesn’t respond, but looks at me and her surroundings with big eyes.
When I pull her closer, she rests her paws on my stretched arm and relaxes as I start lightly scratching her fur.
“You know, I don’t blame Keith. He’s right to be concerned about Mere. She’s such a sweet and sensitive girl, and terribly misses her mom. I’m upset because over the past week I didn’t feel like an outsider,” I mumble to the cat.
A feeling that has always surrounded me in Hawthorne Mansion, except when I’m alone with Gram.
In the last week, I had dinner with Keith and Merida every night. Either he ordered and Mere called me down or I bought takeout for all three of us after consulting with Mere. Everything felt so normal.
Snowy’s purring distracts my thoughts. For a small kitten, she sure is loud.
“You didn’t see, Snowy, how he was at the dinner table. He listened, even interrupted, especially Mere. It always felt like he was getting to know her better and also…me,” I whisper softly to my fur friend.
That was just an imagination of your lustful heart, my brain screams.
Maybe it was.
But in the last week I realized, even though Keith can be grumpy at times, he’s a very caring person. He, too, has a vulnerable side like his daughter. She’s like he told me the first night, the most important thing in his life.
That’s what makes my heart beat faster.
I shake my head, trying to get rid of these thoughts, which are becoming more and more frequent.
I get up from the bed, disturbing Snowy’s sleep. She lifts her head, disinterest clear in her eyes before going back to sleep. I, on the other hand, cannot sleep. I’ve a deadline with Vanessa, and my family is confident I’ll fail, including my brother.
It hurts to know even Oscar didn’t believe in me. He’s the one who fought with Mom and made sure I got my online degree in fashion design.
I pull out the stool from under the kitchen counter and perch on it, my sketchbook in hand. Every day since I found my passion for design, I’ve dreamed of having a life of my own, on my terms.
Living in Cherrywood, in Hawthorne Mansion, does not sound horrible until you realize it means living under the control of Irene Hawthorne, who counts every breath you take.
Placing my elbows on the kitchen counter, I grab my head.
Don’t you dare think about going back, Clem! You can do it in three weeks.
* * *
Next day, when I reach home with another blank sketchbook and an anxious heart, I find Merida waiting for me, perched on the bottom step to the loft.