Almost Friends

Chapter 24- Elizabeth

Chapter Twenty-four

Elizabeth

Swamp Rose Secrets

My hair is still wet from the shower I took at 3 AM, and now a drop of water falls from it onto the picture in my hand. I brush the water away and, flopping backwards on my bed, continue to examine the photo. It's of me cheesing wildly as I stand between Mom and Dad. We'd just bought this trailer and Dad's smile is as wide as mine while Mom's is much more subdued. I was really young when it was taken, too young to realize that our new home wasn't exactly brag-worthy.

But back then, life was simpler. I didn't try so hard. I just did what I wanted: I cooked with Grandma and I played with my friends at school. I wasn't ashamed of Mom, I didn't know enough about Dad's "job" to worry about his welfare, and I wasn't anxious about my future. I was just happy.

Now that I'm older, there's so much uncertainty in life that I don't really have time to be happy. I just have to get stuff done. Take, for example, everything that went down last night: I did what I had to do and there's so much more stuff to be done that I'll barely have time to find answers to the many questions that last night inspired. First of all, was I seeing things or was Unseen a woman? And not just any woman, but a woman who knows me because she called me by my freaking name? And her partner—I swear that voice almost sounded like Randall Hawke's, but I could be wrong. All I know is that I can't stop replaying every bit of what happened.

A bird chirps just outside of my window. I tear my eyes away from the picture and glance at my clock.

4:48 AM. I haven't slept all night, meaning I'm going to be a zombie at school today. Beyond my door, Mom and Dad's bedroom door slides open and heavy footsteps shake the trailer as they shuffle towards the kitchen.

Dad.

I sit up and set the old photo aside.

I need to tell Dad the gist of what happened last night; if he knows I've warned Unseen and that the vigilante will be expecting him there's no way he'll be dumb enough to make himself the bait, no matter how much money Dr. Hawke offers him.

I'm sure this is going to be a fun conversation.

I slide out of bed and, grabbing my robe, pad into the kitchen.

Dad's back is to me as he starts a pot of coffee. He wears a ratty old wife-beater and dark blue jogging pants that have been washed so many times they're beginning to look gray. I bite the inside of my cheek and try to find the courage to begin.

Dad starts to whistle a Kenny Chesney song while he heads to the refrigerator. Spotting me, he stops whistling and his eyebrows go up. "Liz, I didn't even hear you come in."

Hesitant, I smile and take a few steps forward. I rest my elbows on the kitchen island and glance down at an unopened electricity bill from Entergy.

How do I even start this conversation?

"So," Dad's voice startles me as he opens the refrigerator and retrieves a box of pancake mix. "I called Dr. Hawke last night and turned her down."

My breath catching in my throat, I watch Dad turn to me. His blue eyes meet mine. "I can't say I won't ever make a mistake, but I can promise you that I won't work with Claire Hawke. If she wants to trap Unseen, she'll have to do it without me." Dad holds my gaze, his eyes the picture of sincerity.

Relief washes over me and I grin.

"OK." I nod, still grinning. "Good. That's one less thing for me to worry about."

Dad's face falls and he sets the pancake mix on the counter behind him before heading my way. I watch him, surprised by this reaction. He rests his palms on the island's countertop and looks me in the eye. "Liz, honey, you shouldn't have to worry about anything except your grades and deciding which college you want to go to. That's all. Me and your mom, we'll cover the other worries. You leave all that to us, all right?" He reaches across the counter and ruffles my damp hair.

I nod. "OK."

I know I can't really stop worrying, but I'm glad Dad cares enough to want me to.

Hal O'Brien is far from being the perfect father, but if I ever have kids I hope I'll love them half as much as he loves me.

"Good, that's what I want to hear." He smiles and turns back to the refrigerator. "Speaking of college, I was thinking: I know you like dance, but you ever thought about cooking? Like, being a chef or whatever? I could see you running one of them fancy restaurants in New Orleans, you know?"

I smile, watching him set the milk on the counter. "Yeah," I reply, my thoughts darting to the future and its never-ending possibilities. "I can see that too."

Dad's right. Whatever weirdness is going down in Swamp Rose might be a big deal right now, but soon it'll just be a part of my past. My future lies elsewhere. And it's full of possibilities ...