The Rising (final book of The Call series) ~ TMNT Fanfiction

Chapter 21: Reconciliation

"Wait, be careful with that! Those are antiques!"

I look up to see a very frantic-looking April. Her fiery hair is in a frizzy, worn-out ponytail that looks like it's been through some tough times. Her skin is a décor of sweat, not from heat but because of the rise of her nerves. I haven't ever seen her green eyes this wide. I try my hardest not to laugh.

My father, on the other hand, looks suddenly very alert. His entire body freezes, grasping the box he's holding onto with dear life. He tenses and sets his eyes on April, who looks like a ravenous beast at this point.

I accept my failure at holding in a laugh, and just let it out.

"Hey April," I say laughing. "I think we've got it covered, okay? We'll finish unpacking these boxes, and I'll lock up." I walk over and put a hand on her shoulder. "You uh..." I hold back laughter once more, but a smile seeps through my mouth. "You look like you could use a nice bubble bath."

She opens her mouth to object. "But—"

"Nope! Bubble bath!" I exclaim, shaking her shoulders. "Lot's of bubbles. Nice Indie music. Casey can give you a foot rub."

"I did not volunteer for that!" Casey pops up from behind the counter, slamming a box onto it. It rattles some of the other things near it and April cringes. She looks back at her husband and gives him an incredulous look.

"Casey! Those are antiques too!" she says, exhaustion dripping from her voice. Her head shakes and she puts her head in her hands.

Casey winces. "Sorry, babe."

April sighs and looks over at me. "Maybe I do need a break..." But I don't miss the nonchalant glance she takes at my father. I can't blame her for not trusting him completely yet. But her going home early could give him a chance that he can be trusted. He and I have been working at April's store for about a week, and yet her anxiety over the situation has yet to die down.

"Yes," I press. "You do. And remember: a foot rub from Casey. He owes it to you for possibly breaking those antiques."

April looks hesitant, and then she lets out a breath. She takes the key from the lanyard around her neck and hands it to me. "Lock up, but call one of the turtles to come with you to bring the key back to my place."

I don't have to question why she doesn't want me bringing it to her place alone. In a world where the infamous Shredder and his daughter are now the top course meal to all the villains in New York, vulnerability comes easily, seeing that we're now just lowly shop workers.

When April leaves, my father and I get back to unpacking the boxes. He opens up the boxes that had set April off the edge. Eyebrows lifted, he holds up the plastic rubber duckies that fill the box.

"Antique," he says in a solid, matter-of-fact voice.

I laugh. "Well, it's an antique to somebody."

He shakes his head to himself and unpacks the box, placing each of the rubber duckies into a large braided basket on one of the shelves.

"She's just on edge with, you know..."

"A former New York gang leader unpacking her store?" He laughs slightly. "Yeah. Most people would be, I guess."

"Everyone is still getting used to it all." I pause. "Speaking of which, how're things at the lair?"

He places his hands onto the side of the empty box and laughs. It's good to see him laughing a lot more, but I would be a fool to miss the worried and worn look in his eyes so often.

"They certainly haven't gotten used to it, so I definitely haven't gotten used to it either."

"I mean, you've been trying to kill their family for how long now?"