My Guardian Angel

Chapter 7: Dinner with Mr. McCrae

              Soon after my chit-chat with Father, the rest of my family also found their notes. They got furious with Father just the way I had. I felt bad for him. I thought the discussion between us was bad enough, but no, he had around five more of those. Bennett left that afternoon to go back to working. Father kept going over to the McCrae’s once a week, doing something that I was too scared to ask about. He seemed to get better. Father, I think, realized that death happens, and that we just have to live through it. Mr. McCrae probably told him that.

"Hello kids." Mr. McCrae said as he walked through the front door. All the chattering stopped immediately. Ever since Mary died, he never set one foot in our household.

"Hi," I said back quietly. I didn't want to be rude and not respond, but truth be told, I was afraid to say anything. Laura and Bennett came walking in behind him, more terrified than all of my family combined. "What's going on?" I whispered to Bennett. Mr. McCrae walked to the kitchen and started talking to my father.

"I really don't know. Whatever it is, I'm not liking the idea,” Bennett replied back. He was not fond of the idea of Mr. McCrae coming to our house. And it was almost dinner time. "Here. Follow me." He led me to the office, where all of our school work was. He silently closed the door that connected to the kitchen, and he put his ear at the crack. "Listen." he told me as I listened to Father and Mr. McCrae's conversation. It was very faint, but loud enough to understand.

"You doing okay?" said Mr. McCrae.

"Ya, but today I found out that Alice had written letters to each of the kids, saying that I knew that there was a chance that she could die. After they found out, they started screaming at me. Bridget started, and she was probably the maddest. She knew Alice the most out of any of the children. But other than that, I'm fine."

"Well, I think they'll get over it. I was very hard on my children; I still am. And I regret everything about it." When Mr. McCrae said that, I looked at Bennett. He was teary eyed, but I glanced away, trying not to make him feel pressured.

“Then why are you still doing it?” asked my father. After I heard this, I was very anxious to see what Mr. McCrae would say.

He hesitated, but began. “Mary and I were always scared our kids wouldn’t have guidance. They would be on their own, not having someone to tell them what to do. I thought, after Mary died, that I needed to keep charge in the house. It was tough at first, but I’m eventually going through it. And now, if I stop, Bennett and Laura will be on their own. And I would never want that to happen to my kids.”

I stared through the cracks of the door to look atMr. McCrae. I couldn’t believe my ears. I was both happy and sad at the same time. Happy because finally Bennett knew that his father really did care about him, and that his meanness was for the best of him. But I was sad for Mr. McCrae; sad that he didn’t know that Laura and Bennett were practically on their own already. Suddenly the door opened. I jumped back, expecting to see Mr. McCrae yell at us for eaves dropping, but it was Bennett who opened the door which surprised me.

“No, Bennett! Don’t go in there!” I whispered to him in a stern voice, but he didn’t listen to me and went into the kitchen. The voices stopped; the staring continued.

“Yes, Bennett?” Mr. McCrae asked questionably. Then Bennett walked slowly up to him, and gave him a hug. Probably the first hug since Mary died. I saw my dad awkwardly leave the room, but for some odd reason, I stood there. At the side of the door, watching them hug, I felt so much love in the room at that moment that it almost scared me.

            After a moment or two, they separated; their eyes locked on to each other. I looked even closer at the way he was staring at Bennett. But then the imaginary rope snapped, and Mr. McCrae looked like he was back to normal; the same old and grumpy Mr. McCrae. And Bennett noticed it too for he went upstairs to my bedroom. I had nothing else to do, so I followed him. When I got there, he was lying on the bed, his feet sprawled out, and tears running down his face.