4 a.m. // Jeggy

Chapter 8

Dinner was awkward, to say the least.

Usually, my sisters and I would laugh and talk and have fun at dinner, telling stories and taking to Dad. But tonight, there was nothing.

Angelica, Eliza, Dad and I were seated around our table in our usual spots, with him at the head and me across from Angelica and Eliza. We ate steak and potatoes in silence for five minutes until Dad cleared his throat, causing us all to look up.

Eliza's eyes were red-rimmed, as if an artist had painted a portrait of her as usual, but ran out of white for her eyes and decided to use red in its place. I'm sure my eyes looked pretty similar, due to lack of sleep and my crying as well. Angelica looked a little uncomfortable, which was kind of surprising but also not at the same time.

"So... Peggy, how was your day?" My father asked, his voice filling the silent room. I looked back down at my plate and messed with the food a little bit.

"It was alright. We didn't do much, though." I replied, glancing up at him. He nodded and asked Angelica the same question before moving onto Eliza.

"Eliza, how is everything with you?" He questioned. Eliza looked up and drew in a sharp breath.

"Fine. Everything is fine." She said. Her voice sounded broken and hoarse and it was very obvious that she had been crying a lot, and for a long time. After she spoke, the conversation stopped once again and just before we all finished, my father spoke once more.

"Listen girls, I don't know what's going on but I can tell something's up. I'm your father, I notice these things. What happened? Is there an issue?" He asked as we put our empty plates in a stack in the middle of the table. I looked away and so did Eliza.

"Angelica?" He promoted and she shrugged.

"It's not really my story to tell. I wasn't involved in it." She answered. Damn it, Angie. Of all the times you could cover for us and you didn't do it now.

"So that means it was between you two, then. Am I correct?" He asked. I nodded slightly, still refusing to make eye contact with anyone. I felt a hand on my shoulder and jumped slightly before realizing it was just Dad. He gave me a small smile and patted my shoulder before telling me he'd talk to me in a minute. He stood up and motioned for Eliza to do the same and go with him, and I heard them walk into the office and the door shut.

Angie and I sat in silence as we tried to listen to the conversation. I could only hear mumbled voices. Luckily there was no crying, but like I said. Eliza is a very strong person and almost never, ever cries. I feel guilt rise within me as I realize that I made her cry for the first time in probably three years.

After a few more minutes of awkward eavesdropping from the kitchen without being able to hear anything, my sister and father came back to the kitchen. Nothing more was said about the ordeal which confused me slightly but I figured, it's better to just put it in the past. We put the dishes in the sink and parted ways, most likely for the rest of the night.

The sweltering August heat that always seemed to resurface around what I always referred to as 'the golden hour', wrapped itself around me and drew me outside. I went to the small library we had and grabbed The Great Gatsby. I've read it tens of times but always felt myself gravitating back to it. Along with a bottle of water, I took the book and settled myself on the white rocking chair on our front porch.

In my younger and more vulnerable years, my father gave me some advice that I've been turning over in my mind ever since.

That opening line got me thinking every single time, especially within that last year after everything with James. I think of all the advice my father has given and gives me, and how I interpreted it then and now. Today, sitting on my porch, reading this opening line for probably the twentieth time, I thought of his recent advice from not even two weeks ago.

"Things get hard sometimes. Trust me, I know. And I've been through it. But you need to fight back, Peggy. Don't let people take advantage of you or tear you down. Fight back when you need to." He had said to me. It was late at night when he told me this, maybe 2am or so. I couldn't sleep and found myself sitting in the living room, and my dad found me there.

I don't know exactly why he told me this. It was odd though, because when he saw me sitting on the couch, curled into myself, I was trying to push away the thoughts of James and his abusiveness towards me. It was almost like he read my mind.

If only my father had given me that advice a year ago, when I met James for the first time. I set the book on the table next to me with a sigh as I felt my mind shift away from the words in the pages and back to the day I met him. The man I thought was the one of my dreams, but would later reveal himself to be a man who was pulled straight out of my worst nightmares.

- June 28th, 2017 -

I smiled to myself as I walked into the ice cream parlor, hearing the bell on the door above me chiming. The vintage style and sweet smell of the place always made me happy and cheered me up.

I needed an escape from my house for a little while. After listening to Angie and Eliza fight about everything under the sun the whole day, I decided I couldn't deal with them anymore and left with only my wallet and phone.

I waited in the small line as I looked over the different flavors. When it was my turn, I walked over to the counter and ordered a simple chocolate ice cream. I watched as the worker scooped the ice cream in an almost mesmerizing way, and pulled out the money to pay for it.

Just as I got handed my ice cream and was about to give the cashier the wad of dollar bills, a hand went past my head and handed her a five dollar bill.

I whipped around in confusion and was met face-to-face with a tall and handsome guy. He smiled at me before I spoke up in confusion.

"Why did you pay for that? I mean, thank you, but why me?" I asked. He simply smirked in a way that, at the time, I found extremely handsome and wonderfully mysterious.

"Well, I couldn't just let the gorgeous girl in front of me get away, could I?" He said. I blushed and thanked him again. I was just about to leave when he ran up behind me and shoved a napkin in my hand with another smirk.

'James Reynolds - xxx-xxx-xxxx'

Why didn't I just thrown that stupid napkin away while I could?