Taylor Falls: Moon of Doom

Prt2 of Chpt1

"Constance Sade Rowe. Maybe you can explain to me, why I bought you that high tech phone. If, you're going to be dipping and dodging my phone calls and your pre-set alarms.

"They were pre-set weren't they?"

I contemplated lying, "they were." But decided against it.

"Then?.."

Then. "I lost track of time I guess.

"Dad, no one my age has a curfew anymore."

"No one with parents, I suppose" He used his index finger to push his glasses back up his nose bridge and looked at Jacob and then me. "I only want what's best for you guys"

Jacob let out a long sigh and I rolled my eyes.

"Is the problem I love you both too much?" I noticed how my dads hair looked more grey and disheveled than usual.

Lines that were never there,now were telling tales of the hardships my family had been put through.

And eyes that were a serene crystal clear blue that used to catch so much, seemed to more recently, miss everything.

Well almost everything.

"Were you crying?" Dad peered into my red rimmed eyes and I closed them instinctively remembering that quote "Eyes are the window to the soul."

"Yea. Crying about my curfew" Deflect. Deflect. Deflect

I sat at the kitchen table as far away from my dad that didn't look suspicious and rolled up the sleeves on my hoodie. "So what's for dinner?"

"Pusghetti!!!" My little brother chanted.

"We'll thank God it's your favourite, huh Jake?" I picked at a slice of garlic bread with grated cheese on it.

(And the only thing Dad knows how to make) I thought, ruffling Jacobs sandy blonde hair that was in direct contrast with my just below shoulder length black tresses.

"Your eyes are red like the sauce" my bro' noted.

"Shut up," I half whispered, stealing glances at my father. He hasn't even noticed.

He was sitting rigid in his chair and his eyes kept darting toward the cheap white phone that we bought from some bargain store a couple weeks ago that was mounted on the wall closest to the fridge.

"Connie- wash up for dinner"

But I didn't move. (What was going on?)

Dad wasn't the wait until after dinner type.

"Connie. Wash up"

"Is some --" a shrill sound rang several times before I registered it was the phone or that all of us were staring at it. Just then my dad pressed his palms to the table and pushed his chair away from it.

"I'll get that" I heard my dad say.

I was closest so I jumped up and ran for it.

"Hellooo" I sang trying to make myself sound as casual as possible. No one ever called for my dad except for my moms mom on serious holidays and his birthday.

I was curious.

"I'm assuming this is Constance," she questioned but made it sound more as if it were a statement.

"You know what they say about assuming..."

"Connie!" How did my father and I have the ability to embarrass one another under sixty seconds and both not know it.