Thin Ice

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SIX

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

CHAPTER SIX

            After school, Michael insisted on accompanying me to go and visit my father. Since I was a responsible young adult, I dropped my car off at my house and handed my mother the keys politely. Of course, I hadn’t said more than two words to her, which happened to further her frustrations with me.

            Dad was still in the hotel, which furthered my frustrations with her. From what I was capable of seeing with my own two eyes, my mother was unhappy with my father’s tendency to be a workaholic. I could see where she was coming from, but dad put food on our table. She was unreasonable, and things always had to go her way. The problem didn’t entirely involve me, but I could help but feel disgruntled by their lack of affection towards each other.

            Michael used his truck to drive us to the Grand Prince Hotel. We slowly went up the elevators, keeping conversation to a minimum. It was quiet, and it felt like we were in a library. Talking was apparently frowned upon in this hotel. Even elevator music was non-existent.

            When I walked to the correct room, I knocked on the door three times. I had text messaged my father before we decided to arrive, and he said that he would be waiting “oh-so patiently” in the hotel room for Michael and I.

            “How come you never paint your nails?” Michael asked out of the blue, taking a moment to stare at my hands as I knocked.

            “I always screw up,” I shrugged, pursing my lips. “I could care less what they look like. They’ll get messed up in a day, guaranteed.”

            Michael nodded, understanding my logic. “I kind of like that you don’t, cause Jenna’s nails look sort of like pink bird’s claws.”

            “No comment,” I stifled a giggle as I looked at his smirking face. Her nails were pretty bad – far too long and layered with about ten inches of nail polish.

            Before he could respond, the door opened and revealed my father in his expensive suit. “Hot date?” I asked, elbowing him in the ribs.

            He laughed, and looked over at Michael. “Hey, kid. How’s hockey doing?”

            It was no secret that my father disliked Michael. My father tolerated him, and sometimes, they even had days where they liked each other a lot. We were still in the early stage of our relationship, so my father was entitled to be skeptical of Michael.

            “Doing great. I hear your team is doing pretty damn good,” Michael responded, patting my dad’s shoulder. I winced at Michael’s minor language, but my father didn’t seem to mind. It wasn’t a big deal since dad wasn’t a stickler for rules, but I still worried that he’d get a bad impression of Michael. “I can see a trophy in your future.”

            “Hopefully,” my father grinned, beaming from the praise. His respect for Michael shot up a few more points. Dad took a lot of pride in his coaching. Michael knew that, and he was such a kiss-up that it made me laugh.

            “O.K, so what’s on today’s agenda, dad?” I interrupted, tilted my head to the side. Michael wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me tightly into his side. I pinched his arm so that he would let go. My father was just beginning to like him I didn’t want him to push his luck.

            “Well, we have a few options. Since you insisted on coming and visiting me today,” he tried putting a negative tone to his joking words, but failed, “I feel like I should put you and muscles over here to work.” By ‘muscles’, he was referring to Michael.