The Sandman's Daughter

Seven

Seven

Cassie looked up from her notebook, checking the alarm clock next to her bed. It was after 9:00 pm. Her mother would be seated in the kitchen with her nightly cup of tea by now.

She got up from the bed and headed downstairs. It was time to get some answers, even if she didn't want to hear them. She owed it to the kids of this town.

She found her mother in the kitchen, poised at the table with a mug in her hands as she had presumed. Silently, she pulled the chair across from her out and sat down.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" her mother asked. "Did you want to talk about something?"

"Yes."

Her mother smiled as she sat her mug down. "It's about time you decided to work out your feelings, dear. Talking to someone is always the answer."

Cassie frowned at her mother's assumption. The last thing she wanted to do was talk about feelings with her mother. "I actually wanted to ask you something."

Her mother's upper lip twitched, but the smile didn't fade. "Of course. You can ask me anything."

"Tell me about how you and my father met."

Her mother sighed. "Aren't you a little old for bedtime stories?"

A sigh escaped Cassie's own lips. "Humor me."

"I've already told you a hundred times."

"Then what's once more?"

Her mother picked up her tea and sipped from it, a far off look in her eyes. "My first year in college, I spent a lot of time in the local coffee shop. They would frequently have open mic nights on the weekends. I loved listening to the people singing their hearts out. Your father was one of the regulars. He never missed open mic night." She stopped and took another sip. "It was love at first sight for me. But...his first love was the music. I continued with school. He went on to start a career in music. I never saw him again, but that was okay. I had you."

Cassie shifted in her chair. "Is that all there is to it?"

"Yes," she said, finishing her tea. She carried it over to the sink, washing it out. "It was that simple. I was meant to have you, not him."

Cassie was silent for a moment, letting it all sink in. She was tired of the runaround. She needed answers, and she needed them now. "Do you realize you tell me a different story every time I ask?"

Her mother took her time drying the mug, keeping her back to her daughter. "I think you're confused, dear."

She got up from her chair, going to her mother's side. "My father has been a musician, a doctor, an Olympic athlete, a writer, and a movie star. And those are just the one's I can remember. What is it you're not telling me? What are you trying to keep from me?"

Her mother calmly put away the mug and turned to look at her. "There are some things you are too young to understand. I wanted to spare you from the pain of knowing your father never wanted you."

"Too young? I'm almost eighteen. How old do I have to be before you understand I'm not just some helpless child?"

Her mother turned to her, a pleading look in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Cassandra. I can't have this conversation with you right now." She sat the dried mug in the cabinet, turning away. "Don't force me to."

Cassie watched in shock as her mother hurried out of the kitchen, a slamming door in the distance telling her that her mother was done with her for the night.

Her mother had never reacted like this before, then again, she had never pushed this hard for an answer before either.

What did her mother think she was protecting her from?