The Sun and The Moon

Chapter Two

"Hey, hey baby angel," Paul said, coming into the room and shutting the tap off. He crouched behind me, putting a hand on my back.

"Shh," he soothed. I let go of the sink, grabbing into his hand. He reached into his pocket, unwrapping and passing me a werthers. My mind drifted back to our summer together, and all the werthers. When I first moved away, I went through packs a day, like a smoker. I slipped the candy into my mouth, putting my face on his knees and crying even harder. I didn't know what I was crying over anymore; my dad, or Paul. Paul scratched my scalp lightly. I held tightly onto him until I was able to gather myself.

"Thanks, Paul," I sniffed, wiping under my eyes.

"No worries, baby," he said. I missed when I was his baby. I hated myself for ever moving away.

"What would I do without you?" I whispered.

"You'd have some other guy waiting on you, don't worry," he said.

"Waiting on me? Is that what you're doing? You don't have to be here if you don't want to," I said, standing up to quickly. I gripped the sink during a head rush.

"No, I just meant... There is no shortage of guys that would do anything for you, Ella," he said, running a hand through his hair. I knew his hair was soft and fluffy like down feathers. I knew it and I longed to feel it in my hands again. I, however, held back.

Paul left after supper, and I cleared the dishes from the living room. My father couldn't really move off the couch. Of course, we had a wheel chair, but it wasn't easy.

"Daddy, are you okay? Really, I mean," I said, watching him as he flicked through the channels.

"Don't worry about me, princess. I'm tougher than nails," he said, giving me a grim smile.

"Dad! I mean it," I said, sitting back down. He sighed.

"I'm sure it looks worse than it feels. It's no walk in the park, but it's not unbearable," he said. I swallowed and picked at the dirt underneath my fingernail.

"It's worth it to see Paul around here again," he said, giving me a wink.

"Oh, Daddy. Come on now," I said, rolling my eyes. My dad managed to make everything into a joke or sarcastic remark.

"What? I'm just saying... I missed him."

"Me too," I sighed. I rested my head back against the chair, closing my eyes. After a few minutes I heard my father snoring. I smiled to myself. He had always snored and there was something comforting and homey about it.

In the morning, sun streamed through my window. I looked outside and it was a beautiful day. I pulled on my housecoat, creeping quietly into the hall. I peeked around the corner.

"I'm up," my father called.

"Morning, Daddy," I said, coming into the room. He had stubble and his eyes were red.

"Hey, princess," he said. I put coffee on, rubbing my eyes as it brewed.

"What do you want for breakfast? Porridge?" I called into the living room.

"Anything you like," he answered. I put the oats on, cutting an apple up in them and some raisins. I brought my dad a coffee as breakfast cooked, setting it down infront of him and kissing the top of his head.

"How did you sleep?" I asked.

"Fine, fine," he replied. I thought of my restless night, the tossing and turning and recurring visions of blood, glass shards and spinning tires. How could he possibley sleep better than me when he lived through the accident? I hadn't even been there and it kept me up.