Raw [#Wattys2015]

Chapter 1

I grab my bag off the kitchen counter, double checking that everything is inside. Listing documents? Check. Camera? Check. Client folder? Check.

"Daddy, your lunch is on the stove!" I shout, wishing the acoustics were better in this old ranch-style house. The wood paneling on the walls doesn't help carry sound at all. I turn the burner on low, so that his chicken noodle soup will warm up slowly and add a handful of saltine crackers so that they'll soak up the broth just the way he likes.

I walk across the formal dining room, which I've converted into my office space and into the den, where he is laying in his old recliner. His eyes are closed and by the steady rise and fall of his chest, I can tell he is asleep. Shaking my head, I smile at his grey mussed up chair-hair and turn off the infomercial he is watching.

"Daddy wake up," My voice is gentle as I nudge his arm.

His eyes flutter open, "Hey sugar bear. Headed to work?"

I nod. "Your lunch is warming on the stove, okay. You need to eat in the next thirty minutes or so."

He pulls the lever on the side of his chair and sits up. "What'd ya' make me?"

"Chicken noodle and before you whine, just don't. It's the only thing you've kept down in days." Since my mother left us for a much younger, so-good-in-bed-that-I-think-I'll-leave-my-family-for-you man, my dad has been on several different types of anti-depressants and anxiety medications. He seemed to be dealing fine until Belle tipped him over the edge a few years back and now we can't seem to find any medication that works for him. Each time he changes his meds, his stomach gets tied up in knots and he is sick for days. Chicken soup is the only thing he can keep down.

"Aw, come on Aurora. Can'tcha make your ole' man a steak every once in a damn while?"

I roll my eyes, hating that he always uses my given name when he decides he wants to be cranky. I loathe my given name, so luckily he is one of the few people who actually knows it to use it. My mother was obsessed with Disney princesses so both my sister and I were named after one. I was sleeping beauty, so she used to say and my sister was pure beauty, hence the names Aurora and Belle. At least mine can be shortened into a halfway decent nickname. Belle was stuck with her single-syllable name her entire life, not that she minded. She owned it.

Using both of my hands to help pull him to his feet, I make one of my snarky retorts that I reserve just for my dear old dad. "Sure, if that old man wouldn't end up blowing steak chunks all over the place, I might consider that."

He laughs loudly, holding his round belly with one hand and using the other hand to balance himself on my shoulder. "That is one gross joke, Rory girl."

Smiling, I roll my eyes at him then walk back towards the kitchen. "I will pick up your new prescription on the way home, okay. If you need anything else from the pharmacy text it to me. My appointment is at 11:30 and should only take about an hour."

He plops down in a chair at our small breakfast table. "What are ya' doin' working on a Saturday anyhow?"

"I told you, Daddy. The client is only in town for a short while. He has a flight to catch tomorrow."

And he has been very persistent.

I stir his soup one last time, then turn off the burner. Glancing over at my dad, I see that he actually looks good today. Sure, he is still in flannel pajama pants and a worn t-shirt, but his face looks less haggard today. I suspect that it's probably because he had a nap, but either way I'll take it. It hurts me to see my dad saddened by the tragedies of our life.