The WRA Draft

Chapter Ten: The Dinner

We all laughed as my little brother, Wyatt, attempted to wipe the spaghetti off his face using his tongue.

"Don't hurt yourself," Mom joked. Wyatt glared at her and continued to try and lick his face. He was definitely six years old.

"Alright, guys," I said. Everyone brought their attention to me. Dad had invited us all over to spaghetti tonight and although Mom was weary, we convinced her to come. "I have news."

"That's never good coming from you." Dad smiled at me.

"Okay, so, today we held that vote that I told you all about."

"And you won?" Eliza guessed.

I smiled. "By a landslide."

Everyone cheered excitedly and in that moment, I forgot that we weren't a whole family anymore. My parents lived separate homes and I would be moving a lot.

"Oh, honey, I'm so proud of you!" Mom congratulated.

"I knew you'd get it," Dad assured me.

Yeah, it was hard to realize that these two weren't married anymore. Eliza knew this too, for when I looked at her, she gazed at our parents, probably wondering where it could have gone wrong between the two.

But I have to remember, it's what they felt, not what we felt. They did this for themselves, not us.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Hey, Olivia," Dad called. I looked at him. He nodded his head over. I got up off the couch and followed him into the kitchen.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"I've already talked to your mother so she's cool with it, but I'm going on a trip with some coworkers and I'll be gone for a month."

"What?"

"I know, it's a while, but I need someone to watch Quincy while I'm gone. Up for it?"

Quincy was Dad's cat. He was a small kitten but had the fur of a lion. Orange, brown, black, and white fur covered his body and his bushy tail swooshed as he walked. His green eyes made him look like a warrior and he could be if he didn't like you. He was truly a sweetheart, but it takes a while for him to like you.

Quincy's full name was John Quincy Adams II in honor of our first cat, John Quincy Adams. I chose the name when I six and was really proud of it. When Dad got another cat, he insisted on John Quincy Adams II. He calls him Quincy for short.

"Wait," I stopped him. "You're leaving for a month?"

"I know it's sudden, the whole thing is, really, but I have to. I'd call it a bunch of bullshit because I need a day to plan, but I leave tomorrow after work so I need someone to take Quincy."

"Is that you invited us all over for dinner?"

"Maybe a little."

I huffed.

"Are you going to watch Quincy or not?" Dad asked.

I nodded. "I'll take him."

Dad smiled. "Awesome. Follow me." I listened and followed Dad to the back. There, he gave me a bag of toys for Quincy, his food, cleaning supplies, and litter box. He also handed me a little pill bottle.

"What are these?" I asked.

"They're little treats. My boss's wife made them for Quincy. He loves them," Dad answered. "There's a little paper in the bottle with the recipe if you run out.

"Olivia?" Mom called. "You ready to go?"

I walked back to the living room. "Yeah, just let me find Quincy." As if one cue, Quincy came trotting around the corner of the kitchen. He looked around confused. I scooped him up with one hand. "Okay, ready."

"We're taking Q?" Wyatt asked. I nodded. "Yay!"

I smiled and turned to Dad. I embraced him tightly.

"I'll see you soon, alright?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Remember to call."

"I will." I moved to the side so Eliza and Wyatt could say goodbye.

When us kids were finished, we walked out to the car. Mom didn't come out for a good five minutes and although it confused me, I brushed it off and we headed home.