*Hello, hello! Chapter 32 will be posted by Wednesday! I will take a short hiatus and will resume posting, beginning with a new chapter in There'll Be Storms by June 6th.
I hope you're all doing well! ~ K.A.
NAOMI'S POV:
"Good morning." Mr. Davis yawned, walking sleepily into the kitchen.
I set my alarm clock for an hour earlier than usual. On most days, breakfast is already made when I wake up, but this morning I wanted to make it for him. Good thing too, he looks like he had a rough night. Strange...we both went to bed in high spirits after eating the best chicken noodle soup I ever had.
Who knew we'd make a good team?
"Good morning." I said, pouring him a cup of coffee. "How do you like your coffee?"
"Huh?" He yawned again, this time wiping his eyes and glancing to find where I was standing.
"How do you like your coffee?" I smile, finding humor in his tiredness. "Sugar? Creamer or milk? How about...?"
"Woah, woah, woah," He waved his hands to quiet me. "Way too many questions this early, give me a chance to wake up." Teasing, I saw a smirk appear.
"Oh my." I rolled my eyes.
"Cream with sugar, three teaspoons." He held up three fingers, making sure I knew what he said since he yawned. Again.
"Cream and three teaspoons." I said to myself, splashing the creamer and adding the sugar before passing the cup over to him.
"Thank you." He took a drink.
"Did you sleep okay? You look really tired." I took a sip of my orange juice.
"Fine, I'm fine." He brushed his hair out of his eyes. "What would you like for breakfast?"
"It's already made, sit down and I'll bring you a plate."
I grabbed a dish from the cabinet and folded the omelet I made just a few minutes ago. Leaving it in the oven to keep warm, I sprinkled some extra seasoning on top before bringing it over to him.
Stretching his arms above his head, he sat down uneasily at the island. Curiously looking around to see what I made. "You made breakfast?"
"Yes sir, and I promise I'll clean the mess after."
"What did you...you made an omelet?" There was a hint of astonishment in his voice. "Look at you go."
My mom taught me how to make these. I never left her side in the kitchen unless she threw me out." I smiled.
He smiled back, "Thank you, but I should be the one taking care of you."
"But that doesn't mean I can't help." Handing him a fork, he smiled and nodded his head. "This will be the best omelet you've ever had." I assured him, watching as he cut off the corner and scooped it immediately into his mouth
There was some reprisal there, as if he wanted to deny that the omelet was made by my hands.
"It's the second best omelet I've had." He teased. "I'll have to show you how to make the best..."
"You're full of it. This is the best."
Laughing, he took another bite. "That's really good, what did you put in this? Tarragon?"
"Can't tell you that." I shook my head. "All I can say is eggs, peppers and onions, and that's it."
He gave me a snide look, "Fine. Then from now on, you're on breakfast duty. But only on weekends."
"I can manage that." I smiled, gathering some of the dishes from my mess and rising them in the sink.
"Aren't you eating?"
"I already did, I was so hungry I couldn't wait."
"Yeah, I can taste why." Another bite entered his mouth, and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying it.
That made me feel really happy, probably the happiest I've felt in a while.
"Will you be ready in an hour?" He asked, putting his plate in the sink.
"Ready, ready for?" I had finished mine as well.
"Shopping with Sarah, remember?"
"Oh, oh yeah." Keep up, Naomi. "I can be ready in an hour."
"Perfect, I'll give her a call. Go get dressed." He motioned to the hallway.
"I'll clean the mess before..."
"You cooked breakfast, I'll do the rest. Thank you, by the way." He shot me an appreciative smile that made me feel satisfied with myself.
"You're welcome."
"Go on." Motioning me out of the kitchen, he began gathering all the dishes sitting on the counters.
__________________________________
"Hi guys." Sarah said gleefully, stepping inside after closing her umbrella outside the door. "Are we ready?"
I nodded, straightening my shirt and brushing my hair behind my shoulders, trying to match her tidiness. Her appearance always seemed well kept, as if she expected to be on camera at every passing second. Today she was dressed more casual than usual, but you can tell that it still took her hours to get ready.
"Ready." I confirmed.
"Have a good time, I'll see you later." Mr. Davis said, helping me into my jacket and opening the front door for us.
"We will." I said optimistically. "Bye Mr. Davis."
I let Sarah exit first, which she did slowly before opening her umbrella again and allowing me to walk closely to her. She opened the back seat door for me, which I carefully made my way inside. I felt like a fish out of water. Any movement I made could potentially soil or ruin something in this car; my boots were wet from the rain, as was my jacket, which didn't help against the light interior. Everything seemed so out of place to me.
"Sorry about the rain, I should have checked the weather." She closed her umbrella and shook off the excess water before throwing it in the front, passenger side.
"Not like you could have done anything about it." I smiled, appreciating her concern.
"Well, I could have picked a nicer day." She entered the drivers seat, waiting for us both to have buckled our belts before starting the ignition.
Slowly backed out of the driveway, she glanced at me in the rearview mirror, I guess trying to read my body language, before pulling onto the main road and beginning our decent to the mall.
Folding my hands over my knees, I looked out the window and watched as Mr. Davis' house faded away down the road. Most kids hate this weather, especially since it marks the end of summer fun, but I loved it. It was the only time of year where I felt freshness course through my body each time the stark, dewy breeze blows past my face and I get a surprising coldness in my chest. The multiple sounds of soothing dripping, even the aftermath when the rain stops because it trickles from everything, against various surfaces that are always lingering in the background...everything about this weather made me feel so relaxed.
It was almost enough to distract me from the awkward silence in the car. Neither of us were entirely prepared for the day that lay ahead, but who could blame her? No one teaches you how to handle these situations and, even though Mr. Davis had more exposure than her, I could tell even he was somewhat apprehensive of this. I wanted to take the first step, engage in a conversation but I had no idea of how to begin. There was a lot more I could implicate about her since learning of her parents death at a young age...but ironically, that just made it harder to act normally around her.
"So, you decided to take Journalism and Mock Trial?" She tried making light, but relevant conversation.
I hesitated on answering because she interrupted my pep-talk. "Y-Yes ma'am, I've never had the classes before but they were offered as electives this year so I figured I'd try them out."
"You know, I took Journalism in high school which is what made me decide to pursue it. Do they still host the Broadcasting and Journal Research Conference at your school?"
"They do, but only grades tenth through twelfth are allowed to participate."
"Oh." She said disappointingly, "That's strange, I remember doing it my freshman year, they must have changed the policy."
"But my teacher said the class will definitely be attending to view it." That was at the end of the semester, and I was so excited to see the students present their research.
"That's fantastic! It will be so beneficial for you to see what the program is really about, and how to facilitate the knowledge from your research to multiple audiences. If you decide to continue the program, of course."
"I like it so far. There's also the Mock Trial contest at the end of the nine-weeks period, my class will be competing against another school at the local courthouse."
"Sounds like you're going to need something professional to wear." She beamed, making eye contact with me in her mirror.
I tried thinking of some of the professional clothing I had; I was allowed to take all my stuff after the investigation concluded, but most of the clothing I had was outdated or too casual. I had some outfits that I could wear in case of an emergency, but they were mostly holiday-influenced.
"So, do you have any stores you'd like to go into?" Turning on her turn signal, she merged to the turning lane and pulled into the parking lot of the mall.
"For clothes? Usually, Old Navy but sometimes my mom and I would shop at Maurices."
"We can go into both if you'd like, but we're not just shopping for clothes. We can shop for anything you want; shoes, hair, make-up...maybe not make-up," She thought of Mr. Davis' reaction. "but we have the whole day."
I nodded, resisting the urge to let my inner wildness come out and drag her through every passing store. This is my first, real experience away from the Academy. Even though it was Mr. Davis' sister, I doubt I'll get into any trouble today.
"You said I would need something professional for Journalism and Mock Trial? I think I could find something at Old Navy for that." I wanted to stay focused on her advice to not sound too greedy or exploitative.
"We could try Old Navy, but why don't I show you a store where I shop for professional clothing? It's just past the food court." She opened her door cautiously, making sure not to hit the car parked next to us.
I did the same as her, "Okay. What's it called?"
"White House Black Market." She smiled down at me, locking the doors behind us.
We walked into the food court and, for the first time in almost a year, I left the weight of confinement lift from my shoulders. I was grateful for the shopping experience with Mr. Davis, minus the fallout, but that served an academic purpose. Now, even though this is his sister, I have the entire mall in the palm of my hand...and though she is someone who is my boss, but I'm pretty sure she isn't as strict as her brother.
"The store is right over here." She pointed past the tables to a little black and white storefront.
"Never been in here before." I examined the entrance; black with flashing white letters that made the title, the entire presentation, scream classy sophistication.
_________________________________
MR. DAVIS' POV:
When the idea was first presented, I'd be a liar if I said I didn't feel daunted about taking custody of a female child. Not that I had a preference, which I made very clear to Audrey when we discussed having kids, but a wave of reality struck me for the first time when I was shopping with Naomi. Entering Old Navy, we walked past the Junior department and I immediately saw undergarments, hair accessories, and then shoes...all of which I had absolutely nothing to offer advice on.
It never occurred to me that I would be going in this alone, mostly because Audrey and I never discussed the responsibilities of a single-father or mother. Perhaps that was naive of us, but we never expected anything regarding a separation to occur. No divorce, sole custody or even unforeseeable deaths.
Fortunately for me, Naomi seems to have a good grasp of the fundamentals since she is fourteen, but I know there are intimidating things in the future. Without a doubt, mothers are the most influential educators for their children, specifically daughters. They bequeath timeless, relevant wisdom from experience, holding a perception so precious and valuable. It is paramount for Naomi to have a strong female presence in her life; a role model to demonstrate how to carry herself, regard herself and think about herself. I think I can do that, but only to a certain extent...especially since there are definite topics that I cannot teach her about due to my lack of experience.
I could take Naomi to get her hair done, but I can't immediately teach her how to do it herself. I am willing to learn, but it would take me just as much time, if not more, to learn it as it would for her. Undergarments are items that I only have intimate experience in, and that definitely is not something I will pass on...and that time-of-the-month special is a bullet I normally dodged with Audrey.
For these reasons, it's no question that a mother-figure in her life will play a pivotal role in how Naomi will navigate herself through the traditional adolescent challenges of a young lady. I'm so grateful to have Sarah around.
____________________________________
NAOMI'S POV:
"Naomi? Honey, are you okay?" She asked from the waiting area.
"Yeah, yeah I'm good." I said reflexively.
I was more than good; I was extremely happy with this. I've never worn a dress that felt so smooth, the tag said it was a soft linen blend but it felt like I was wearing a cloud. The fit was perfect, highlighting all the right places, and the color was one that I hadn't worn before but it was absolutely gorgeous.
"Well come out! Let me see." She said excitedly.
I stepped out, immediately rubbing my hands against my sides to make sure there wasn't a single stitch out of place.
"I love that!" She came forward, walking behind me and slipping her fingers in between the sleeve line. "What do you think?"
"I think it's so pretty." I rubbed my hands against it again, I'll never get used to that feeling.
It was a long-sleeve, solid olive green tunic mini-dress with a knotted tie belt in the front. I saw it hanging on the rack as soon as we entered the store, it outshone everything else they had here. Even the sequence apparel.
"How much is it?" I went to reach for the tag by my shoulder but her hand blocked it, all I saw was the number five.
"It doesn't matter, if you like it then we're getting it."
There it was; that feeling of generosity offered by someone else that made me feel selfish, and inconsiderate.
"Do you think Mr. Davis will like it?" I was more concerned about him approving of it, but I think her judgment would be enough for him to approve.
"I'm sure he'll love it; it's very pretty, modest and befitting of someone your age. Plus it's a perfect dress for business casual but can even be formalized with the right accessories."
"How much is it?" I asked again.
I hadn't looked at the tag before trying it on, which I probably should have, so I could pretend not to like it, but I let my enthusiasm get the best of me.
"I said don't worry about it, you're not going to change my mind Naomi." She smiled. "Now go take it off and get changed."
Heading back toward the dressing room, I stopped to stare at myself again in the mirror. It made me look somewhat older, giving me a classy chic that I hadn't experienced before. It's contrast from the business-casual attire at the Academy gave me an emphasized shiny look. Almost like a before and after picture.
Slowly and carefully slipping out of it, I was able to glance at the tag; the dress was sixty dollars. Was this too much to ask of her? Would she think me a leech for expecting her to buy this? I don't even have enough money to cover this, and that money was left by my parents for emergencies. If an emergency cost less than this, shouldn't that mean that this is a luxury too inessential?
"Is there anything else here you'd like to look at?" She asked as I stepped out.
Was she serious? This was more than enough. There wasn't anything else in the mall I wanted to look at.
"N-no, Sarah I don't think I want this dress." I glanced down at it.
"You do." She saw right through me, which was hardly a surprise. "I saw that glow on your face when you stepped out of the dressing room. I'm happy to buy this for you, as long as you promise to tell me everything about the Journalism Conference and your Mock Trial event."
I hesitated, but she sounded so genuine. "I promise. Thank you, I really appreciate it."
"I'm getting hungry, how about you?" She glanced at her watch, taking the dress from my hands to place on the counter.
"Yeah I am a little, do you want to do something in the food court?" I glanced at her, watching as she handed her card over to the clerk.
"That sounds good, they have plenty of options." Motioning me forward, we exited left and began our short walk from the corner to the center of the mall.
"How about I pay for lunch?" I said, pulling out my little sea turtle pocket-purse gifted to me on my birthday by my grandma.
"Oh no honey, I'll pay for lunch." Putting her hand over mine to stop my movement, she waved away any possibility that I could pay for it.
"Please, I have plenty of money." I reached inside and pulled out the fifty-dollar bill I had jammed in there for the last eight months.
Her eyebrows furrowed, "That's your money. Don't waste it on me, let me pay."
"Please let me, you've already spent so much..." She didn't look like she would budge, I had to do something to show her I appreciated everything she was doing. "besides, Mr. Davis gave me this for lunch."
I didn't mean to say it, it just came out like word vomit. It was the first thing that popped into my head so naturally it was the first thing out of my mouth.
Sighing, she returned her wallet to her purse. "Alright, alright, I guess I don't mind spending his money." She smirked.
Don't panic. Don't panic, everything will be fine. This was my money, and I can do whatever I want with it. Anyway, Mr. Davis made it clear he has no intention of allowing me to spend it, so there'd be no way for him to notice.
We approached a pizza stand, looking over the options, everything made my mouth water. "Is this okay?" I asked her.
"Pizza sounds great." She smiled.
We joined the line, both reviewing the menu for our selection. Everything looked fantastic, mostly because I haven't had take-out food for ten months and I was dying to get my hands on it.
"I'll take two slices of pepperoni and...." Sarah begin, looking toward me for my order.
"One slice of veggie."
"What would you like to drink?"
"Lemonade? Please." I asked nicely.
"Two lemonades."
"Okay," He nodded. "the lemonades will be a few minutes, they're making a fresh batch."
"No problem." Sarah smiled, handing him cash, in which she returned the change to me after he finished checking us out.
We were given our slices immediately and Sarah took our trays while I reached for straws and napkins.
"Is over here okay?" She asked, motioning to the nearest table.
"That's perfect."
The pizza was so, so good. The gooey cheese melted in my mouth, and the white sauce erupted flavor that satisfied every tastebud I had. Today was actually going really nicely. That awkwardness hanging over my head was no longer present, I was becoming more comfortable around her.
Almost everything was perfect. There was still the shadow of my absent parents intruding in my thoughts. The bonding with my mom was missing, and it was even more apparent as I looked around at all the passing people in the surrounding area. I was distracted by how happy a lot of the families looked. My mom and I never came to this mall, or perhaps we did when I was little, but we did do a lot of shopping together, mostly because my brother and dad appalled it. She would even take me to go get my hair done and let me join her at the nail salon.
Awe mom, I miss you. Especially the way she would shake out the curls of her auburn hair after it was curled.... wait.
"Ma'am?" The pizza worker called to us.
"I'll be right back." Sarah said, wiping her mouth before scurrying over to the counter.
That woman. The back of her hair looks so familiar. She was around the same height and the same body size as...
"Here's your lemonade..." She sat the cups down, but curiously looked in the direction I was staring.
"I'm going to, I'll be right back." I got up from my seat, ignoring her concern, and walked across the food court.
"Naomi." She called, more than likely following behind me.
I felt a gap form in my chest, allowing what felt like a powerful, cold wind blow through my shattered heart. There was an instant pounding in my head as my nerves were shot. My mind felt frozen, everything around me had suddenly began moving slower and slower, and suddenly the thousand questions I formulated during the last eight months had resurfaced in my mind.
What would I say? Where do I begin? Would she even want to see me? Would she run away?
"Mom?" I tapped her on the shoulder.
The woman turned, giving me an awkward smile.
"Oh, oh I'm so sorry." I managed to squeeze out. "I thought you were...someone else."
"That's okay, it happens." She said politely, turning away.
It happens. It never occurred to me that my mind would subconsciously continue to search for anyone else in my family. Would this become a regular thing now? I...I can't put up with that.
The feeling of hope I had was now abruptly gone, the only thing I felt was a coldness that caused my eyes to become glassy. We already confirmed that wasn't her, but her resemblance was so strong that I couldn't force myself to turn away.
"Naomi, honey." Sarah watched awkwardly from behind me.
Turning away, not wanting to embarrass myself anymore, I would tell she didn't know what to say or how to react, she only looked at me with empathy.
"I'm sorry, I got lost..." I pointed back in the woman's direction. "I didn't mean..." I stopped, trying to take a breath so I'd be able to speak.
"It's okay honey, I understand." She embraced me in her arms.
"Can we just, just forget that happened?"
"I think I should mention this to Mr. Davis." She said with a heavy heart, I knew she meant well but I don't want to be forced into talking about it again.
"No, please..." I sighed. "I don't need any more grief counseling. Can we just go back to having a good time?"
She clearly did not like my request, nor did she want to accept it, but I think she respected it. "Okay."
We returned to our seats, trying to go about things normally. But all the awkwardness had immediately returned; I didn't want her sympathy, but somehow that's all I can feel now when she looks at me.
"Did I tell you I'm dating someone?" I asked, desperate to change subjects and distract myself from the bewildered feeling stirring in the pit of my stomach.
"No, you didn't." A low smile formed. "Does Mr. Davis know? What's his name?"
I laughed, "Yes, he knows. His name is Jasper."
"Very eccentric." She smiled. "So, how handsome is he? Is he at least easy on the eyes?"
I blushed, "Extremely. He's tall and strong."
"How did you two meet?" She leaned forward, asking all the right questions as if she were interviewing me for an exclusive.
"Well," I smiled, remembering that time in the basement. "that's kind of a long story."
"I'm not going anywhere." She shrugged, doing a good job at allowing me to move past the pain of the situation at hand.
I admired that.
__________________________________________
"Did you have fun?" Mr. Davis asked, opening the door seeing that I was carrying multiple bags.
"So, so much fun." I sat everything down on the counter.
"Thank you, Sarah." Mr. Davis whispered to her.
"Oh, it was my pleasure, we'll have to do it again real soon. You can tell me more about that boyfriend of yours."
Mr. Davis sighed, rolling his eyes at the thought of Jasper.
"Without buying anything next time." I said modestly. "Thank you, Sarah, I had a great time."
"As did I." She put her hand gently on my elbow and gave me a small squeeze.
I gathered the bags and brought them into the living room, looking inside to satisfy the excitement of examining everything I bought.
"Thank you for lunch, by the way. We didn't spend all of it." She teased.
Mr. Davis gave her a confused look, "What? Lunch was all yours."
"Naomi used the money you gave her, it was very nice of you to do that but I had everything covered."
"I didn't..." He stopped when he realized it. "Oh right, that money. You're welcome."
What the hell was I thinking? Sarah is so polite and her manners were elite, how could I think that she wouldn't thank Mr. Davis for it since she believed he paid for lunch. Hearing the back door shut, I knew Sarah was now gone and that, that my cue to go.
I slipped from my chair and began slowly making my way across the living room to the stairs.
"Naomi Taylor," He called from behind, causing me to freeze instantly. "I know you're not about to walk away after hearing that." The disappointment was obvious.
I turned around slowly, looking down at him standing at the bottom of the staircase. At least Sarah left and wouldn't have to be a witness to this, that would just make it even more embarrassing.
"Hear what? I was just going to put this upstairs." I said quickly, holding up my shopping bags.
"You told Sarah I gave you money to buy lunch?" He folded his arms across his chest, giving me a severe look.
"What? No, there's a mis..."
"Don't fence with me Naomi," A word of caution. "you'll get yourself into a lot of trouble."
I clasped my hands together, picking at the end of my fingernails as I contemplated my next move.
"You paid with money that did not come from me, so you can confess to using the money from your parents or try to lie to explain where this mysterious money came from. I think we both can conclude that Sarah would know if she paid." He shrugged.
He took a step forward, impatiently waiting for my response. There was no way out of this, I'm caught in a self-destructing loop.
"Okay," I said quietly. "I lied to Sarah and used the money my parents gave me."
"I explicitly told you not to use that money today." He seemed more discouraged in the lack of consideration I had when formulating my plan.
Inhaling sharply, he motioned for me to follow him where he led me to the dining room table. Pulling one of the chairs out, he rolled up his sleeves.
"Take a seat." He went to the other side, parallel to where I'd be sitting, and stood with his arms crossed over his chest.
Setting my bags on the couch, I complied but kept my hands under the table so I could continue picking at them.
"I told you to save that money." He began.
"I know, I'm sorry."
"Last night and even this morning, I stressed that Sarah or myself would have everything covered."
"B-but it's my money, why can't I use it...?"
"Because I'm your provider now, I do not want you spending it on something that I am able to cover the cost for."
Noticing the disheartening look on my face, he sighed and assumed the seat at the head just adjacent to me.
"I meant what I said yesterday; Sarah really wanted to take you shopping. Her spending money on someone makes her happy, so she wanted to do that for you. And, what's worse, you lied about it, knowing full well she should have immediately denied."
I took a deep breath, trying to conceal the frustration that was festering inside of me.
"You know I don't tolerate lying." He shook his head.
"I know sir." I said in a low whisper.
"And you also know that I don't tolerate disobedience."
A tear fell from my eye and splashed against my thigh. "I don't see what's so wrong with me spending my money, why are you so mad...?"
"It's not just about the money," He reached over and gently grabbed my wrist . "I don't make decisions thoughtlessly, when I tell you to do something or not to do something then I have a good reason for it. You can do a lot with that money; you could use it for an event at school, spend it on a trip to the movies with your friends, open a savings account for yourself, or simply save it. It could be used for emergencies; like if you missed the bus and can't get a hold of me, or forgot your lunch in the morning so you can buy one at school...Today was something that I didn't deem important enough for you to spend that money...I need you to trust me."
"I do." I said softly.
"Then why go against my orders?"
"Because," I shook my head, not sure of how to convey my feelings. "because she did everything right." I wiped my eyes. "She was so nice, helpful and fun...and I still felt awkward having her buy things for me, so I just wanted to do something nice for her too. I didn't want her think I was taking advantage of her."
"Naomi," he leaned forward. "I know this is going to be hard to adjust to, especially since it's entirely involuntary, but you're part of my family now. So I, we, are going to spend money on you, time with you, and we consider that a pleasure."
Our eyes locked, and there was that warming embrace I often felt when speaking to him.
"It's good to be grateful, but please know that you don't ever have to feel like you need to compensate for it. Your gratitude is enough for us, we don't need anything but a 'thank you'."
"I'm sorry I lied, and spent the money."
Exhaling lowly, there was some indication that he was willing to accept my apology, "How much did you spend?"
"Well we ate at the food court, the total was close to twenty."
Nodding, he reached in his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Unfolding it, he pulled out a twenty-dollar-bill and handed it to me. "Save your money."
"I will." I took it and put it away in my little pocket-purse.
The fear in the back of my head immediately appeared when he stood up, assuming he was about to remove his belt or tell me to fetch another switch. I knew my body language was clearly represented by apprehension, but I still made no effort to hide it...even when he could read it so easily.
He sighed, setting his hands on his sides as he contemplated on what to do with me. I tried to give him a pleading look, of course, to persuade him not to spank me.
"I'll let this go with a warning;" He exhaled sharply through his nose. "Lying is not acceptable and neither is ignoring me, the next time you do either, that's a trip over my knee. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir." I wiped my tears again, trying to calm myself down.
"Try to calm down. There's no reason to get upset." He assured me.
"I-I really thought you were going to punish me."
His lips pursed a little, and he began tapping his foot lightly on the floor. "How could I? You did a sweet thing."
"Yeah, but you're the one who said sometimes, no matter what intentions you have, there are consequences."
He smiled, satisfied that I recited that lesson. "I did, but emphasize sometimes. I'm choosing to let this go because there's a big difference in your intentions this time versus last time." He paused, waiting for me to spot the difference but my head hurt too much to compare them. "Last time you did what you did for your own benefit and it hurt someone else, at least in this situation, you had good intentions to do something for someone else."
At least he recognized my sincerity was genuine. After all, she was especially patient and understanding of the influx of emotions today.
"You have a great sister Mr. Davis..." He was lucky to have her, and so was I.
"I know, she really is the best and I'm glad you think so." He glanced at his wrist watch, while his phone vibrated on the table. "Can you be ready to leave for the Academy in an hour?"
"I thought we were leaving tomorrow."
He suddenly seemed troubled. "Something came up that I need to address, we need to go back a day early. I'll be unavailable for a few hours, so Mr. Patry will take command."
Being under the sole monitorization of Mr. Patry? I don't see how this could go wrong.
"Oh okay." I said curiously. "I'll get ready."
He nodded, both of us heading toward the stairs to pack our things. Allowing me to go first, I gathered my bags and set them on my desk. I wouldn't need to take them to the Academy with me, and we'll be returning next weekend.
I tried to gather everything school-related first; enough clothes to last the week, my textbooks and notebooks, and my library card. But I was distracted. What could Mr. Davis address that Mr. Patry couldn't? What could be so important that we have to return a day early?