Emmaline Waters, This Is Your Life by Maggie Bloom

Author:Maggie Bloom [Bloom, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: ElkNewt Press
Published: 2014-07-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

When Angie and I arrive at the brownstone, I’m thrilled to find Dad mellowing by the fire, a mug of steaming tea on the table beside him. Before I can get the door closed behind us, Angie squeals, “Daddy!”

My heart sinks. Mark Loffel is her father, if not her “daddy” (through no fault of his own).

Clutching a dish towel in one hand and a rose-patterned plate in the other, Mom meanders over to join us, her gaze drawn (disapprovingly, if I’m reading her right) to Angie’s dress—the same one she wore to The Olive Branch. “She just put that back on,” I feel obligated to say in my defense. “Didn’t you, Ang?”

Angie buries her face in Dad’s chest, her arms hinging together behind his neck. Dad gives her a tender kiss on the top of the head. “Gee, I think I’ll get sick more often, if this is what I’ve got to look forward to,” he says with a chuckle.

I join the group hug. “Welcome home, Dad.”

Mom hangs the dish towel over her shoulder and lays a hand on my back. “It’s wonderful to have everyone here,” she remarks, her voice wet with emotion.

Suddenly, Dad shudders, as if he’s caught a chill. “That’s enough,” he announces. But he’s not fooling me: what he can’t stomach is the fawning.

Mom backs off and, eventually, Angie and I break away too. “You look good,” I tell Dad after completing a meticulous once-over. “Your eyes are”—I tilt my head and squint—“sparkling. Maybe even dazzling.”

I grin.

He grins back.

“Have you girls had breakfast yet?” he asks, adroitly changing the subject. “Your mother made a delicious veggie frittata.”

On that appetizing note, we all—including Dad, who has apparently eaten already—head to the kitchen, where I devour (and Angie picks at) the aforementioned egg dish, which turns out to be even more scrumptious than Dad let on. “Is this a new recipe?” I ask with my mouth full.

“Actually, it’s an old one,” Mom responds. “From your Grammie Mae. I found a box of her stuff in the storage unit while I was searching for some insurance papers.”

I raise my fork. “Kudos, Grammie Mae.”

“Can I have some lemonade?” asks Angie.

Dad shuffles to the fridge and pours a couple of freshly squeezed glasses, while I quash the urge to intercept him. I mean, if he thinks he’s up to a task, who am I to tell him otherwise?

I’m halfway through my lemonade when Mom ushers Angie off to the bathroom to “get cleaned up,” as if she’s been wrestling wild boars for the last thirty-plus hours. I seize the opportunity to probe Dad’s medical situation further. “So, when’s your next doctor’s appointment?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

He settles on a stool beside me. “A week from Thursday, I think. You’d have to ask your mother for sure, though. She’s the bureaucrat in this house.”

What Dad means is that Mom handles all the pesky paperwork and red tape of life. “Dr. Lucas doesn’t want to see you sooner?” I inquire.

“Watch your mouth, young lady.

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