How Bad Could You Really Be?

My dreams are your dreams.

My dad returned to the house after a half an hour. He brought a pizza home with him. He tossed the box on the table. I grabbed some plates and napkins. Once the table was set we dug in my. It was painfully quiet for the first few minutes.

"So, what is it you do, Onceler?" my dad asked.

"I'm an inventor of sorts," he replied.

"Yeah, he's been selling a lot more of his thneeds lately," I chimed in.

"That's wonderful! Hopefully business continues to do well."

"Thank you, sir."

"And Skye, I have a friend in the town over interested in your writing."

"Huh?"

"I sent him over some of your work. He'd like to see more of it. As a matter of fact he sent this letter to you."

My dad leaned back on his chair. His arm reached on the counter. He grabbed the letter and passed it to me. I held it in my hand. It was from a large publishing group in the next town. Oncie nudged me after a few minutes to open it.

"Can I be excused?" I asked.

I didn't wait for an answer before I ran out of the kitchen. Oncie spun his head, but I was already upstairs. He turned his head back to the table and my father was staring intently at him. His fingers laced together.

"What's your relationship with my daughter?" he asked.

"Uh, well she is helping me with the production of the thneeds."

"Nothing inappropriate?"

"O-of course not! I-she- no!" he blurted.

My father held up his hand. Oncie stopped talking and sat up awkwardly.

"She's old enough to make her own decisions. I trust you'll take care of her. I'll spare you the explanation. I know she is moving on from me. Just keep her happy."

"Hm? Is something wrong?"

"I'm sick. I haven't told her yet. I'd appreciate if you don't either. It's why I asked my friend to look over her writing. She has a talent, but she's always been a dreamer stuck out in the woods. I don't know if I'll get better. I just want to make sure she's taken care of."

"Sir, I..." Oncie paused, "I will do my best to do what I can, but she should know this!"

"If you weren't with her she wouldn't have come home," my father sighed, "it's better this way."

I squealed with excitement upon reading the letter. Their conversation ended as I ran downstairs. I dropped the letter on the table.

"He wants me to send him some of my works. This is like the best thing ever! I have to get writing right away!"

I ran upstairs and packed my things. A part of me felt bad for leaving my dad, but I didn't want to stay here anymore. This was exciting. Oncie's business was starting and possibly my career as a writer. I headed downstairs to meet Oncie and my dad at the door. After setting my things down I hugged my father.

"Thanks for doing that for me," I said.

"I'm sorry, Skye," he said as his eyes filled with tears, "I just feel like I let you down.

"Dad, you didn't mean to do those things. I think I understand why everything happened. It's just things feel weird after hearing something like that. I still love you very much."

My arms wrapped around him. He sobbed into my shoulder. Oncie picked up my things and carried them outside. My dad smiled at me as I walked out of the door. We both waved to him before leaving. Oncie carried my bag in one hand and grabbed my hand with his other.