Books & Novels

Chapter Seven - Dawn of The Dad

"Exactly."

"That's not really an answer."

"Exactly."

"Um.... you know to say something else then 'exactly', right?"

"Exactly."

Andrea burst out laughing, and Jamie joined in. It was awkward, laughing at nothing, but so much fun at the same time. Like telling embarrassing moments to friends. Or laughing at yourself. Andrea loved that feeling. It was, practically, her favourite feeling ever.

"You're a weirdo," Andrea managed between fits of laughter.

"Who cares?" Jamie replied.

Andrea stopped laughing to actually take in what he said. 'Who cares?' Andrea had spent her entire life not knowing who she was, always trying to make people think nicely of her. She didn't want to be Andrea the Nerd, or Andrea the Bimbo, she wanted to be Andrea the Andrea, but alas, that never happened. Andrea was somebody always trying to get to someone's standards. And it wasn't really that bad.

That's why he's a weirdo, Andrea thought bitterly, biting her chapped-up lips. He thinks nobody cares, when really, everybody does. They care, they care, they really, really, really care.

Who would everybody be, really, if they thought no one cared? The world would be full of unsophisticated personalities. It was better to fit in.

Andrea left out a huff.

"You ok? There was a long pause there. I thought you were going to pass out or something." Jamie explained, breaking silence and the thick syrup of Andrea's thoughts, which at the time she was drowning in.

"I'm fine. Really." Was what Andrea meant to say, but she said, "Fine, really, I'm."

Jamie stared.

"Uh... yeah.... garbled up speech, you know, yeah..." Andrea turned straight around and disappeared into her bedroom, hoping Babushka would not discover Jamie in the kitchen. Funeral costs were very high this time of year.

After washing her hands for five minutes straight (with a very nice smelling lilac hand soap) Andrea headed back down stairs. Jamie was still concentrating on the telephone, making clicking noises, leaned forward, almost like a statue. It seemed as if he were the only thing in the room, nay, the world.

Of course, with an exception of the telephone. And the screwdriver.

Andrea cleared her throat and sat down. Jamie turned and looked at her, totally ruining that "I'm the only thing in this world except for the screwdriver and the telephone" illusion. "Should I get going?"

"Um...yeah...I guess..." Andrea peeked through the lace curtains (Babushka loved her lace curtains) and saw a near-blizzard outside."Whoa. It's really, really bad out there. You sure you want to walk home?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Jamie had already started to put on his coat, mitts, boots, scarf, hat.

A few minutes later, Jamie was standing out of Andrea's door, Andrea in the house. With a little bit of envy, Andrea saw the snowflakes magnetizing to Jamie's eyelashes again. Maybe it's boy magic. The power to have nice hair and make snow gravitate towards your lashes. Nice.

"See you!" Jamie shouted as he left the driveway. His voice was muffled from underneath the red knitted scarf.

"Uh...yeah!" Andrea called back, unsure and a little cold.

***

Andrea didn't know what to expect when her dad arrived home ten, twenty minutes later.

Dad, for Andrea, was another word for crooked. Crooked glasses with dark Spanish eyes behind. After all, Henry Kalisso, was eight Italian and the rest Mexican/Spanish. Black hair with a bald spot Andrea used to use as a drum when she was on her dad's shoulder as a toddler. It was smaller back then, but still. Snow caps, small, covered his shoulders.

"Hello, pumpkin." Although Andrea was slightly irritated at being referred to as a vegetable, she was equally overjoyed to see her dad home, and using her nickname.

Andrea's father had been in Mexico for the past two weeks, visiting relatives down south in New Mexico. Aunt Teresa and Uncle Jose, and three cousins whose names Andrea barely remembered, hadn't been visited in a while.

"How about we go out for supper? At that Asian place?"

"Sure!" Andrea nearly pounced on the question. She loved 'that Asian place', which served Japanese food, Vietnamese food, Chinese food, Thai food, and Korean food.

Twenty minutes later, Andrea and her father sat at a table inside the restaurant, quiet due to the snowstorm, peering out the large windows. Babushka had refused, gently, to come.  Andrea glanced at a bamboo plant on the table, and ate a piece of sushi. Her dad had ordered spring rolls and wonton soup, while Andrea had just had sushi.

But as it was, Andrea was pretty sure her dad had meant "interragation with spring rolls" instead of dinner.

Dad: "So, how are you?"

Andrea: 'Well, thank you?"

Dad: "Anything going on that I don't know about?"

Andrea: (breath quickening a little) "No. No."

Dad: "OK. Any boys?"

Andrea: (grossed out a bit): "No, sir."

Dad: "Good. My little girl knows when it's a right time to start dating."

Andrea: "Yeah, totally." Thinking: Hello, I'm fifteen. I'm no little girl! Sheesh, I'm only a woman when I'm in trouble.

Dad: "How's Babushka?"

Andrea: "Is that really worth asking?"

Dad: "Point. How are your grades?"

Andrea: "I haven't received a report card since you've been gone, Dad. Average."

Dad: "Good. Now, I'll ask this again, is there anything or anyone I do not know about?"

Andrea: "I'll answer that again. No!"

Andrea had just realized how dangerous and risky the telephone fixing trips had become.

***************************************************************************************************************

Hello!

I have been so happy with your lovely, encouraging comments. IT MAKES ME REJOICE. *Halleguah, Halleguah!*

I think I spelled that wrong. Oh well.

So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've planned the next chapter, and the next. But what was your favourite moment in this chapter? Why?

A dedication to random commenters. :D

As you can see what's also up, and although this is so not nescessary, I HAVE FOUND SOMEONE TO CAST AS FELICITY. *joy*

Yeah, I'm weird like that....

Love you ALL.

-Ivy