It's Not Me, Its Insecurity

Chapter 7

When I returned home, all I wanted to do was go upstairs and cuddle in my little nook with a nice read so I could escape reality for a few hours. As un-luck would have it as I stormed into the house with lightning and thunder above my head, my dad immediately knew that something was wrong.

"Shelly- Belly. Can you come into the kitchen for a second?" He called.

Sighing, I stopped myself from running up the stairs and made my way into the kitchen. I was never good at hiding my emotions. If I was upset you could tell instantly by my facial expressions, the problem is that I don't like sharing my emotions. I tried to work on it but by the look on my dad's face I could tell that I failed.

"What's wrong, Belly? Something happen?" He asked over homemade pasta sauce.

I went over to the crock pot and he held up a spoon and allowed me to taste.

"Mmm." I approved.

"Michelle," he said warningly.

"Nothing is wrong dad. I've just had a bad day. I woke up on the wrong side of the bed and I'll get over it," I tried to give a small laugh but it came out more like a gurgle.

"Fine. If you don't want to talk about it, you can help me with dinner. I'm not going to let you sulk in your room by yourself," He said, handing me a box of wheat angel hair.

I gave him a pout but he turned around and ignored it so I went to get the pasta pot and started to fill it with water to boil.

"So, I've got a few more chapters of that book I started that I want you to read. It's a little different from my normal stuff but I think branching out into new territory will be good. Sometimes it's nice to try something different even if my fans don't like it, somebody will. And who knows, maybe I'll gain new ones," My dad said brightly as he started chopping up some onions and cucumbers for a salad.

"I can't wait to read it," I said.

I had always been a fan of my dad's work even before I knew it was his. When I was younger he would read me stories that he had written and wouldn't tell me until after I gave my opinion that they were his. He liked to do that so he could get my honest opinion on them. He didn't want me to be biased about it.

"Your mom read a few pages and says it's amazing so far so I'm hoping that's a good sign,"

"It probably is," I laughed.

Once the pot was full, I brought it over to the stove and turned it on high.

"So dad, I was thinking about getting a job soon. Where should I start applying?" I asked casually.

"Really? I think that's a great idea. And about time too," He gave me a flash of a smile to show he was kidding, "I don't know. It depends where you could see yourself working. Fast food places are always hiring or a department store would be good for a first job."

I grimaced, "I don't really want to work in fast food or in a store but if I had to choose then a store."

"Well in these times, you can't really afford to be picky. If you're really serious about getting a job, you take what you can get."

I nodded in acknowledgement because it was true. I couldn't be a princess if I wanted to get a job and make my own money.

"I'll tell you what. I'll ask around some of my friends and see if there are any openings at a publishing house or something. It would look good on your future resume."

"Thanks, but I should find something close to school so when I go back I don't have to travel far," I said, not really into the idea of working in an office with older people.