I Want To Dream Now

Chapter 3

He sits at the table, newspaper folded out flat as he sips strong tea out of his favourite mug – the Venezia mug, the one Charlene bought for him from her school trip in Italy.

It is not supposed to be for drinking. Just an ornament. Like there is any other choice now.

"Morning love," he says.

"Morning."

Charlene steps over to the cupboard. Nothing, except Weetabix.

She bangs it shut. Not a pip-squeak out of Charles.

Toast, she tells herself.

"Hold on, Charlene," her father interrupts, beckoning her over to sit at the table. She doesn't.

"Ok then," he says. "Stand. But listen to me, you'll want to hear this."

"What is it, Dad?"

"Your mother might be coming home, maybe even tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?"

"Yes," he confirms, smiling almost. "How do you feel?"

Charlene closes her eyes.

"We'll work through this," he promises.

"I really don't think we will."

"Why not? She's better this time. Give her a chance."

"Oh my," croaks Charlene. She places her palm on her pounding heart. "I'm not listening to this."

"Darling—"

"No. No, don't. She doesn't deserve my sympathy, and she really doesn't deserve yours."

Charles closes over his newspaper, folding his arms over.

"There are obviously unresolved issues..."

"Yes, Dad. There are. And that's how it is going to stay. I really mean it. She can't just waltz back in here. No. I'm not going to allow it. She will just destroy everything all over again."

"How do you know that?"

"Look around us," she hissed. "She's broken all our cutlery, turned everyone against us. I can't even get to college because I never finished school like any normal kid."

"I thought you were working through these issues."

"I am, I really am," she protests in a shaky voice, tears welling already in her eyes. "It is hard to forget, Dad. I can't just turn my brain off."

"Ok..."

"Money, Dad. Money doesn't grow out of trees."

He nods, opening back open his newspaper. She could see his own torment in that moment. Charles doesn't speak a lot, but hasn't particularly since Jillian left. His brittle bones, his overgrown beard. His sunken cheeks. His missing teeth.

Charlene rolls her eyes, one last time for shutting the door behind her.

"Where do I go now?" She whispers to herself.