Ruin Me

69. Finally me

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" Mom flew across the room towards the microwave she'd brought three years ago that we dragged around between hotels. I watched as she yanked the metal tin containing the turkey out of the microwave only realising her mistake when she touched it, "crap!" She dropped the boiling hot tin to the floor and the cheap turkey rolled out of the tin onto the rough carpet.

"Well," I watched from my comfortable position curled up under the covers on the double bed we were sharing with a book in my hands, "that looks tasty."

"Cara," mom shot me a hard look, "cut me some slack here, I'm trying."

"Maybe you wouldn't have to try so hard if we lived somewhere with an actual kitchen," I snapped not caring how harsh my tone was.

"Cara," moms voice was laced with warning.

"I want to live in a real house," I insisted, "one with an actual kitchen where I can go to a proper school all the time and invite friends over."

"Well this is your life Cara," mom threw her hands up angrily, "this is what I do for a living so this is what our life is like."

"Quit!" I tossed my book down furiously, "Do another job, for me?"

"My life doesn't revolve around you Cara!"

"I'm your daughter it's meant to," I demanded angrily.

"What you think I'm gunna be one of those moms who gives up their entire lives the moment they have a baby?" mom roared, "you can't ask that of me Cara."

"Why not, is it so much to ask that for one god damn time in your life you put someone other than yourself first," I stood up and charged straight out the hotel room and slammed the door behind me.

***

"Happy thanksgiving!" My dads voice was the first thing I heard that morning pummelling my ears. I rolled over towards my door and cracked open my eyes so they were attacked by the intense sunlight seeping in through my windows.

"Happy thanksgiving," I grumbled not quite able to manage the pleasantries before my cup of coffee.

"Here," my slow early reactions took a moment to take in my dad approaching and holding out a cup of coffee towards me, "I hope it's the way you like it."

I couldn't help the surprise showing on my face, "thanks."

"I'm going to make scrambled egg in my kitchen and I've already got the turkey in the oven for later. You do eat turkey right?" I'd say my dad looked almost nervous. He shifted from foot to foot awkwardly as he waited for my response. He'd been up and out of bed a couple of times now but always shuffling slowly across the floor and taking his time with every movement. He wasn't cleared for work yet though and that was driving him mad, he needed an outlet and had watched every season of Friends this week but was growing agitated. At every opportunity he was up and out of bed trying to order the boys about although he knew it drove me mad with fear every time I caught him going up and down the stairs.

"Of course, I love turkey," I nodded eagerly making sure he knew the effort was appreciated.

"Okay," a huge pleased smile spread across my dads face as he backed away towards my door, "great. So you can just come down when you're ready."

"Great," I nodded. Once he'd left I quickly tugged myself out of bed and changed into comfy leggings and a baggy sweater at lightning speed before raking a hairbrush through my hair and swiping a toothbrush across my teeth. The moment I was finished I dived straight for my art book and leafed through until I found a blank page. I took out my water colours and began painting onto the plain white page. My paintbrush flew across at a rapid speed unable to control itself as I played out the ideas inside my mind into real life.

"Cara!" My dads voice came echoing up the stairs, "eggs ready."

I bit back a smile as I stood up and took my finished sheet of work with me. I bounced down the stairs two at a time to reach my dads rooms. The delicious smell of eggs and bacon was wafting out from his rooms and made my head swim.

"Wow," I walked into his room and saw my dad stood over his tiny kitchen table tipping out the contents of a frying pan onto two plates, "this smells amazing!"

"Thanks, I'm not quite up to scratch on my cooking, I guess that comes with always having a meal ready in the Dining Hall," dad beamed at me, "come and sit before it gets cold."

He sat down at the table and looked up at me with expectant eyes, I didn't hesitate in joining him.

"I ... um," I was the nervous one now, "I um ... I got something for you for thanksgiving to um, say thank you I guess."

I extended my watercolour painting across the table towards him, it was a painting of a tree, a huge oak tree standing alone in the centre of a lawn with an old Victorian building in the distant background. I don't know what made me draw it, the image just came flooding out of me; it seemed to represent him in some way, strong and tough and resilient.

"Cara!" My dads eyes wondered over it and his voice became hushed as he spoke with awe, "this is incredible. How could I not know that you were this good?"

"It's nothing," I shrugged my face flushing at the compliment, "I did it really quickly."

"I love it," my dad looked up and met my gaze, his serious voice was full of force letting me know that he meant it, "seriously Cara you're really talented, I'm going to frame this and it will have centre stage on my wall."

"Thanks," I have a half smile.

"Maybe someday it will have others to join it when you sell your work at art conventions or something?" He suggested.

"Maybe," I shrugged one shoulder.

"Okay, I'm going to stop being such a dad," he waved his hands but I could tell how pleased he was by the painting, "now eat up your eggs."

I nodded and scooped up the eggs into my grinning mouth. This was the thanksgiving I'd always hoped for.

Here you go!

Alby
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