The Sun and The Moon

Chapter Five

When I woke up the next morning, my head throbbed. The world tilted and I pulled the blankets over my head. That's when I noticed someone else in my bed-- Paul. My heart swelled and I curled up closer to him. I gentley kissed his chest and fell back asleep. When I woke up the second time, he was gone. My stomach flopped and I sat up, looking for him. There was a glass of water and an advil on the table beside, and a note with just a heart on it. I clutched the note against my cheek. I took the advil, drained the glass of water and flopped back on my bed. I relieved the night in my mind.

"Paul," I whispered to myself. I loved his name. I loved being able to say it again. All those years in Ottawa, I didn't mention him. I couldn't bring mysef, for it was like salt in an open wound. Suddenly, I felt healed. I flung the blankets off of and swung my legs out of bed. I was hangover free, with just a mild headache. I felt confident the advil would take care of that in no time. I opened my window, and leaned out, looking through the pine trees to the cloud-free sky. The sun shone brightly, but to the right I could see the moon still, faintly but there. I felt myself smiling.

"Daddy?" I called, entering the living room. He sat, book in hand and glasses perched on the end of his nose.

"Good morning, princess," he said.

"When did you start wearing glasses?" I asked.

"I don't know, maybe last year," he replied with a shrug. I brewed some coffee and sat down with my father's guitar while it cooled. I checked the tunning.

"Fun night?" he asked. I bowed my head, trying to hide my smile from him.

"Fine..." I said, and hit a sour note, "This thing sounds like crap. You need new strings."

"I think there are some in the drawer." He pointed to the TV stand. "Was I crazy, or did Paul spend the night?" I fought the drawer opening, selecting two strings.

"I have no idea, I was asleep," I said, nonchalantly. He laughed.

"Well, I hope so." I finished the strings in silence. When I looked up at him, he was watching me fondly.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, princess?"

"How come you want me to be with Paul so badly? What if there was someone back in Ottawa... Would you give them a chance?"

"Is there someone back in Ottawa?"

"That's not the point."

"I like Paul because I know how much he loves you... I see the way he looks at you. I know what type of guy he is. I trust he wouldn't hurt you," my father said. I strummed the guitar, testing a few notes.

"But he has hurt me!" I exclaimed. I was suddenly feeling pressure, that I had to be with Paul or let everyone down. I wanted this to be about what I want, not what my dad wants... not what all my friends want.

"Ella," he soothed.

"He left me alone, Daddy. I was alone!" I placed the guitar roughly on the couch and went into my room. I tried to refrain from slamming the door, but the sound still echoed down the hall. I flopped onto my bed, and pushed my hair out of my face. I punched the mattress on either side of me. I was made because I didn't want to feel this way. I had no idea why I felt this way.

I didn't want my life to be in Saint-Luc again. I missed my Ottawa apartment. I missed my job. What was there for me here?

.... Paul.

There was a knocking on my front door, and I left my room to answer it, avoiding eye contact with my father. When I opened it, Paul stood there, shifting from foot to foot. He held a bouquet of sunflowers. I bit my bottom lip.

"Hi, baby angel," he whispered. I smiled, I couldn't stop myself. I loved sunflowers. I let him in.

"Mr Barbe," Paul said, nodding to my father. It was funny, my whole life he had called my dad by his first name. When we started dating the first time, the Mr Barbe-ing began, and suddenly it was back. My dad grinned.

"Are you playing guitar?!" Paul exclaimed, seeing where I'd left it on the couch.

"I'd been thinking about it," I said. Paul sat down beside my dad, clasping his hands on his knees.

"Play us something," my dad ordered. I took a deep breath, picking up the guitar. I played the Mumford and Sons version of the song called Unfinished Business. When I finished, I had tears in my eyes and Paul was looking at me strangely.

"Excuse me," I said, and locked myself in the bathroom. I stared at myself in the mirror.

"You'll never be happy if you keep acting like this," I whispered.

"You are ruining everything," I said.

"Snap out of it!" I pressed my forhead against the mirror, hard. I turned the tap on, washed my face and held the towel against my eyes for several moments. I took three deep breaths and left. I picked up the guitar, playing another Mumford and Songs song "Lover of The Light." Paul made some of the sunflowers into a wreath and placed it on my head.

We brought my father outside for a walk, wrapping him in blankets and a scarf. The fresh air seemed to liven him up. We walked downtown, to the Laughing Bird cafe. I ordered three hot chocolates and a piece of pie for my dad.

"Good to see you, Ella," Ashley said, passing me my mugs.

"How's business?" I asked.

"Good, steady enough," she said. I wanted to say there's no where else for anyone to go. but I bit my tongue.

"That's great," I said. I sat down, blowing the steam off my cup. The other people in the cafe took turns coming over, telling my dad they were happy to see him out and about and welcoming me home.

I felt conflicted. On one hand, it was nice to see everyone you know. That a whole city is happy to see you. On the other hand it was uncomfortable. I was used to going out and everyone being a stranger. Here, everyone knew your business. I could see the way people eyed us, trying to figure out if Paul and I were back together. Trying to be the first to know, have a peice of gossip for their friends. I sighed and was happy when we left.

"Mum wants you to come for dinner," Paul said, as we reached the top of the hill I lived on. I just nodded. He kissed my forhead and left. I wheeled my father into the house silently.

"Ella," he said, watching me as a dried off the wheels.

"Yea?" I glanced up at him.

"Don't be jerking him around," my dad warned.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"But I don't know what you mean."

"Don't start this up again if you're just going to leave us. Don't let him fall for you again if you're just here for a moment."

"Dad--"

"No, Ella, listen to me. You didn't see him after you were gone. You don't know what it was like... What he was like. You have more hold on him than you're aware of," my dad explained. I just nodded. I didn't know what to say. Dad had never been the type for serious talks, for advice or insight. And suddenly, he know more than anyone else.

<A/N: Would love any feedback... Even if you just want to say 'I hate this!' haha>