When All is Null and Void

Chapter Twenty-Two

Danielle squatted a moment longer while she rubbed his ears vigorously. Removing her shoes was difficult with Bucky trying to assist. She achieved it, though, and carried Bucky into her bedroom. She laid the dog on her bed, and he immediately crawled up onto her pillow and was asleep in seconds. She flicked off her light and went into the bathroom to shower.

A little while later, squishing water from her hair into the towel, Danielle left the consuming warmth of the bathroom. She dressed in the way one tends to on a Saturday morning, with no rush. Bucky didn't even lift his head to watch her; he was too busy snoozing.

Danielle left her room and walked into the kitchen, where she made eggs with runny yolks—she hatedwhen eggs got too done and had a disgusting brown film around the edges. Besides, a runny yolk was good for keeping the egg from being too dry. She also made oatmeal, and by the time it was all finished, her parents had come from their room, dressed and primped for one of her dad's author events.

Eric Baker, Danielle's dad, may have been a dismally unpopular author, but her mom, Alisha, always attended his events... and tended to secretly purchased three books at each one. Her dad had been aware of it for years. She loved the way her parents supported each other. In all honesty, though, Danielle hadn't read a single one of her dad's books, but that was really because she'd never been much of a reader, to her dad's consternation. Not only was he an author, but an English teacher.

"What're you doing today?" Danielle asked, shoving another bit of egg in her mouth.

"Powell's," her dad replied. He yawned and sat at the stool next to her while her mom poured two cups of coffee into mugs she'd pulled from the back of the cabinet. She had this weird thing about making sure she used each mug the same amount of times.

"Again?" This was the third time in as any months her dad had held a book signing at one of the largest bookstores in the country. He'd sold less books than ever at his last event, and Danielle knew the outcome would probably be about the same today. It wasn't that he was a bad writer; she'd heard from a few of her friends who'd read his book it was actually kind of good. It was the fact he was self-published. He didn't receive a lot of publicity, and the author events on weekends were meant to combat that. Except no one really wanted to read a book about an obscure artist who'd contracted the bubonic plague.

"Well, this is the Beaverton store," said her mom. She leaned her hip against the edge of the granite countertop, cradling the steaming cup of coffee in her hands. "We've got high hopes." The tone was bracing and kind. Danielle knew her mother only wanted for her father to succeed in his dream, but they were all happy their jobs as teachers didn't leave them destitute.

"I'm sure it'll be a success." Danielle smiled, took another bite, and grimaced. She spit an overly salted bit of egg back onto her plate. "I thought the salt shaker was acting weird."

"Oh yeah," her dad said, "the salt shaker's broken."

Danielle snorted. "Good to know."

"What are you gonna to do today?" Alisha slid out of the way as Danielle rinsed off her plate and pushed the last bit of her over-salted egg into the garbage disposal. She ran the water and ground it up before answering.

"Maybe go to the mall with Caitlyn? I don't know, though. She's been acting a little weird lately."

"Her outfits keep getting skimpier, I'd noticed," her dad said, scooting the bar stool back with a scrape. "You'd think Patrick would say something." Patrick was Caitlyn's dad and hadn't been a part of her friend's life for over six months now.

"I don't think he cares," Danielle said.

"Mmm..." her mom sipped her coffee again. "Well, maybe it would be good to hang out with her. Let her know you care."