Clean Slate #Wattys2019

Chapter Nineteen

The next morning, I decided that I would text Ellie to check in on her and see how she was doing, but when I looked at the time, I decided that I would wait until later. She's probably not up at 5:30 a.m.

My shift seemed to drag on but when I got out of work, I was relieved that tomorrow, Andrea didn't want me to come in until 10:00 a.m. rather than 6:00 a.m. She had found someone to take the opening shift and didn't need me until a little later.

I fell into my daily routine of eating dinner, taking a shower and getting into bed. I texted Ellie since it was still early.

Dylan: Hey, Ellie, it's Dylan. I just wanted to check in on you after what happened yesterday. To be honest, I'm really not sure what happened, but it seemed to really make you uncomfortable, so I'm just checking in. Hope all is well.

Shortly after, she responded.

Ellie: Hi, Dylan. I'm sorry about yesterday, but yes, I'm okay now. We'll finish up that conversation at some point, I promise.

Dylan: Sounds good to me. Listen, I hate to end this conversation after it just started, but I'm probably going to fall asleep any minute now. I'm glad you're okay. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?

Ellie: That's fine, I need to get some stuff done anyway. Thank you for checking in, I'll talk to you tomorrow.

As I predicted, I fell asleep almost immediately after that.

Suddenly, I was back in the house that Nat and I grew up in. I was in my old bedroom. I walked into the kitchen and Nat was there with flour all over her, her eyebrows knitted together in frustration as she looked down at the recipe book in front of her, she must have been baking something again.

I could tell that I was trying to talk to her, but no sound was coming out of my mouth. I watched as her face fell further and further. Whatever I was saying, she could hear it and it was not making her happy at all.

She tore off her apron and threw it on the counter and slammed the recipe book shut before she opened the door to the back deck and stormed out, closing the door behind her. She slammed that, too.

I had no idea what I did that made her so upset, but I knew I needed to fix it. I decided to neaten up some of the mess in the kitchen so she would have some time to calm down and I noticed that she had somehow managed to get flour in every nook and cranny in the stovetop.

When I finished, I opened the door to the back yard and she was sitting on the edge of the deck with her back to me and her legs dangling off the edge. All of a sudden, I could hear my own voice again.

"Natalie?" I spoke gently, trying not to anger her any further, especially since I have no idea what I said.

Her voice was quiet but firm. "Go away."

I ignored her wishes and walked towards the edge to sit right next to her. "Please, talk to me."

"I just don't understand why you don't appreciate the things that I do for you. Or what mom does for you. We both try to do whatever makes you happy and it's just never enough for you. I was trying to make you your favorite cake to congratulate you on finally getting the raise you deserve, but you come in and all you have to say is that I made a mess of the kitchen and that mom's never home. It's like you always forget that you're not the only one that lost Dad. We all did, so stop being so angry all the time because it's not our fault and we are suffering just as much as you are, if not, more. You weren't close to him like we were, so I guess it's almost like you've never lost anyone that was truly significant to you. Just figure out your issues and why you're so mad all the time because if you keep acting like this, you won't have anybody left." Tears were racing down her cheeks, something that I've witnessed more times than I care to admit. Probably more times than I can count, but this time it was worse. This time, I was the reason and I wasn't sure if I could live with that.