Love, Dad

7. Watch Me Fall Apart

We traded off, Caiti and me. Since she was sharing some of her skills with me—teaching me how to care for dad and whatnot—I was sharing some of mine with her. She wasn't quite there yet, but I trusted her enough now to at least leave her alone with dinner while I took a shower. It had been weeks since I started working on the field, and showering went back to feeling the exact same as it always had; though it was never taken for granted when I got to scrub the dirt off. My neck ached and I was ready to get through eating so I could go to bed—though I knew her meal in itself was going to be its own battle.

There was no point in wasting any more time when I knew that our guests would be arriving any second now, so I shut off the water and finished up. Once I was fully dressed I went back out to the kitchen to see how things were going, and Caiti didn't seem to notice me when I came in. The food looked like it was doing fine on the stove, but the paper she was perusing seemed to really have her attention. Though I knew it wasn't my business, I didn't think anything of it as I headed around and read it over her shoulder, trying to see what it was that demanded her attention.

"California?" I asked, noting that she was looking at a list of employment opportunities in that area for her field.

"Have to start planning some time." She cleared her throat, folding it back up and putting it away. Despite doing it smoothly, I could still tell that she hadn't wanted me to see that, for whatever reason. I remembered she had told me she might like to head out there after her work was finished here.

"Take it from me, it's not all that it's cracked up to be." Laughing at my own joke—which actually wasn't a joke at all—I sat down across from where she was, leaning back in my chair and fixing my eyes on her. She shrugged and averted her gaze from me, going on like that for several minutes before I could tell that she was about to cave. There was something she wanted to say, something she wanted to ask me about it—though I wasn't sure what. Instead of prompting her, I simply waited, giving her all the time she needed to become comfortable enough to find her voice on her own.

"I don't want to pry, but maybe you can tell me a little more about it since you lived there?" She bit her lip and didn't look away this time. Basic, true, but it was a start.

"Of course, want do you want to know?" I wasn't sure why she would consider that prying, or otherwise rude to ask. It was a simple question and I would have a multitude of simple answers for her. Better to ask now, than to get out there and learn it all the hard way like I had.

"What's it like? I mean, how are the people there any different than the people here? I imagine everything's a thousand times more expensive. Is there a lot of crime?" Caiti's expression betrayed her inner workings, because I could see her brain processing all the different thoughts and fears that she had. She still hadn't looked to me for my response, allowing instead for her mind to run through what the possible answers to her questions might be. That was funny in a way. Not funny for her, because it was her life and it was very real, but funny because I had not given much thought to those things back in the day—not like she was. Maybe things would have gone smoother if I had.

"The people are fine, for the most part. You definitely won't get someone knocking on your door with a pie to offer though. Everyone mostly keeps to themselves, and they might seem rude or selfish at first—but you'll learn to adapt to that fairly quickly. And I wouldn't worry at all about money, of course you're right and it will be a shocking change, but I have zero doubt you'll find work quickly with all the crime." I grinned, not really wanting to frighten her, but not committing to appeasing her either. I understood, it was definitely a tough and daunting decision, deciding to relocate somewhere that was going in the complete opposite direction she was used to.