Blanket of Stars [completed]

✩Two Take Care

[Day 1 of Devlin's Return]

✩Two Take Care

Dad stood in the kitchen- he lifted the kettle off the stove and poured me a cup of tea. The delicate porcelain cup trembled in my hand. I sipped the warm liquid, my mind refusing to register the taste.

Before I dropped the cup and created a mess, I set it on the granite. The swirling green designs on the counter made my head spin.

Dad's remorseful eyes watched me-his anger from earlier seemed to have dissipated into thin air. I noted, feeling slightly light-headed, there were bloodstains on his brown checkered shirt, the one me and Liza had gifted to him last Christmas. There is one thing that never mixed with me and that was the sight of blood. Often, blood reminded me of what we really are-just flesh and bone programed to walk and talk then one day die on earth and become a part of the soil.

"I wanted to talk you about-"

"How did he get hurt?" I interjected and lifted my gaze from the blood to my father's face. It was one of those rare times where I wasn't intimidated from him. Sometimes the people you love need to understand few things.

He sighed, a pained sigh as if he understood my feelings, like he had been through the same situation. "Mr. Hutchins,"

I should have felt shocked- maybe just a little but I wasn't. "Did he send the security after him?"

At this part, he stiffened. Every muscle in his jaw was taunt with strain. Rage- Why was my father angry for a boy he despised? "No," After a brief pause, he added. "He did this himself and..."

"And what? Everyone stood there watching a father brutally beat his son to pulp. Don't tell me, Devlin didn't try to defend himself. He's much stronger than Mr. Hutchins. He shouldn't be this hurt. Did Mr. Hutchins get other people to beat him up?"

"Physically," He began speaking a riddle manner, making feeling like a small lost child again. Maybe for him, I always be the small child he used cradle in his arms. "My dear daughter, he may be stronger but emotionally he's scarred. It takes courage and hope to fight back and he had neither."

Dad brought another cup from the sink. From the furious steaming kettle, he filled it with some tea. He always liked his tea stronger than mine.

"No, the entire office staff didn't just stand there and watch. There were shouting noises coming from Mr. Hutchin's cabin and I went inside to inspect. Your boyfriend was half-conscious on the floor-"

Boyfriend. Oh my, oh my-heat rushed to my face. My skin was drowned by red and oranges.

"What?" Dad was half-amused by my reaction. "The last time I checked my daughter didn't know anyone by the name of Devlin Hutchins."

"You should have called the police. Mr. Hutchins cannot do that," I tried steering the conversation back to the main topic. This is the last thing I want to discuss with him.

Dad shrugged his shoulders causally. "Exactly, dear. I need to lose this job. The economy is bad enough." I could not believe he would something like this. Catching my disgruntled expression, he laughed a throaty laugh- the side of his eyes crinkling. My father looked almost ten years younger. "He told me not to,"

"Mr. Hutchins?" I spat.

"Devlin," There was almost an affectionate touch when my father said his name. "After all, who am I to question his choice?" He lifted my teacup. "Are you done with the tea? Good God, Alice, it's full. I aren't that bad of a chef, am I?"

Without waiting for an answer, he set both our cups in the sink and rinsed them with warm water and dish detergent. Bubbles of soap rose and flew in the air, rainbows coloring their skins.