Father Daughter…Bonding…
"Mom, please tell him it's a bad idea." I turned to her as my final resort.
"I think it's nice."
Father daughter bonding time? It is not nice, not in my world. I'm fifteen, now is not the time for bonding. We had that when I was seven, it didn't really end well.
"It's his only night in town and I thought it would be fun." My Dad said honestly.
Fun? Listening to a guy who really should be dead sing blues? Dr. John, okay, I admit, I loved it when I was little, but I grew out of that a long time ago. Now was not the time to take me to a dead-person concert. And the Neville Brothers, never even heard of them, why do I want to see them?
"You know what, fine. But when this ends badly, I will laugh so hard." I fumed.
So it was settled, I was about to see an old guy play piano and try to sing over the loud music with his steadily fading voice. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a heart-attack when we were there.
I followed my Dad to the car and sat down.
I really don't want to do this.
When we got there, I watched my Father get out of the car. I groaned and got up, I guess I was stuck. This was so unfair, I had one month to live, and did I want to waste it sitting here?
NO!
"This is our 15th anniversary as an operating performing arts theatre." Someone handed us a brochure.
"I'm good." I shook my head; the boy stuck one in my hand anyways. I quickly spotted something scribbled in the corner.
The dumbass gave me his number. I looked back at him and mouthed "not going to happen." Dad pretended not to notice, but I saw him watching me out of the corner of his eye.
"Well, let's go take our seat then." I nodded towards the row we were to be seated in according to our tickets.
"We're over there." Dad flipped my ticket over—it had been upside down—and pointed to the front row.
Of course, he only gets the best. I rolled my eyes.
Halfway through the performance, I started to get sleepy just when some performer pointed me out, of course. I frowned, what were they pointing at me for? I took my hair out of its usual pony-tail and used it to cover my face.
It only took three hours and something minutes for the lights to come back on. I sighed with relief.
"What exactly was your point of bringing me here so suddenly?" I asked Dad.
"Besides the fact you haven't been home in a few years," Yes, but that doesn't mean I haven't seen you, you and Mom came every chance you got, "and I haven't gotten to spend quality time with you," Well, last night was all quality. Think about it, I was nearly raped and you almost didn't care until Mom banished you, "you meet some nice people here."
"I'm the youngest person here besides the door-kid."
"And I'm the oldest." He laughed, some joke.
"Hey there, Miss." He spoke in his weird scratchy voice too? I thought it was just the way he sang.
I turned around to see Dr. John getting off the stage. Everyone had left, to quote his finale "I was in the right place, must've been the wrong time."
"It's nice to see young people appreciating different types of music." He smiled.
"Yeah," I smiled, thoroughly embarrassed.
"Do you perform at all?" He asked.
"Um, I sing a little and I play the flute and, um, the bass guitar. That's about all though…" I looked at Dad.
"You look like a bassist." He nodded slowly and smiled, "You want to try to play something?"
"Uh…" I looked at Dad for back-up.
"I'm sure she would." Dad nodded.
Not the back-up I wanted, thanks.
Dr. John pulled me on stage—he was strong for an old guy. Part of me wanted to tear him to shreds for making me do this, him and Dad, but I managed to overcome it. The Neville Brothers bassist handed me his guitar, which smelled odd, and I put the strap over my shoulders. This was so awkward.
Dr. John's bassist showed me the chords and I picked up on it pretty fast. Soon everyone had joined in.
It didn't make it any less awkward though.
When we finished I thanked them quickly and we left after he and Dad chatted about my "talents." I felt like jumping in a river then and there.
"I'll have to take her on tour with me sometime." Dr. John laughed and waved good-bye.
Dad and I didn't talk on our way to the car, but he struck up a conversation once we got in it.
"I didn't know you played bass." He commented.
"Yes, you did. I played at the Christmas party last year, Dad." I rolled my eyes, "Remember?"
"That's right…" He nodded. Then he started laughing. "Didn't Bran try to get you to sing?"
I hid behind my hair again.
"Yeah, that's why Mom grounded me, because I threw something at him, I can't even remember what it was now."
"No matter, you played really well up there." He ruffled my hair. I growled and fixed it, pulling it back into a pony-tail.
"I guess, it was a new song for me. I could've done better had I actually known it."
"Who taught you to play?"
"I taught myself." I shrugged, "I watched some of your wolves perform that one time and I picked up on it."
"I thought maybe Samuel taught you." His eyes flashed but he spoke calmly. I knew he still didn't like Sam, they'd never be each other's favorite people. But at least they didn't fight.
"He doesn't play bass; he only plays every other instrument." I laughed, "And you and Mom played for the flute lessons."
He nodded again and smiled. "That boy who held the doors seemed to like you."
"I wanted to kill him, but its okay, he lived." I grumbled. Dad always brought up the weirdest things. Plus, he could bounce from topic to topic so fast you didn't realize it until you notice an hour later you got sports shoes from you conversation on jell-o. Jesse could do that too.
I wish I could.
"So what are you planning to do about—" Dad stopped at my face.
"I refuse to talk about it." I said overly politely, staring right in his eyes, "And if you do, Mom will be a widow."
He growled.
On the bright side, it's not like he was driving. We had just pulled up at the house, although, someone could probably hear our conversation from wherever they sat stalking me.
"I know, I'll do it for you. 'Porsche, you're grounded.' Now that wasn't so hard was it?" I got out of the car.
I heard a crash, well there goes the door. Guess we won't be driving anywhere anytime soon.
"MOM! DAD BROKE THE DOOR!" I called inside. I heard something drop and Mom started cursing.
"Mom, language." I scolded and continued on to my room.
Something was lying across my bed, something I couldn't touch. It had silver on it, and I recognized it faintly from something I saw at Uncle Zee's house earlier.
"Wait, MOM!" I screamed down the stairs. "There's SILVER on my BED!" Silver wasn't terribly dangerous unless it was actually in my system, but it had the tendency to burn anyways.
Mom rushed upstairs and laughed when she saw what I was scared of.
"I guess it's decided to follow you now. Good, Zee was complaining about it stalking him."
"Stalking him, what is it?!" I looked at her.
"Some fae walking stick that gives the owner's ewes twins."
"I don't have sheep!" I said exasperatedly, "Why the hel-ck is it following me?"
She ignored my almost slip-up. No matter how much she accidentally let something slip, I never was allowed to out loud. I had gotten away with it a few hundred times already but I could see she wasn't too eager about letting it go anymore.
"It just randomly picks someone it likes. It followed me for a good two or three years."
"But I can't touch it, it doesn't help me." I let her pick it up and sat down on my bed.
She smiled, "Fae magic works that way sometimes. You should get to sleep, it's pretty late." She hugged me quickly and walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind her.
The damned stick appeared in the corner after she left with it. Well, at least it wasn't in my hand. That would've sucked.
I sighed and curled up under the covers, if Dad, and I assumed he didn't, didn't think I was going to find a mate by the end of the month, I probably wouldn't. This was fantastic.
Someone crept up the stairs and stopped at my door.
"'night." I dropped them a hint, but I wasn't using my nose.
"'morning." They laughed.
"Stefan?" I sat up.
He chuckled and the door creaked open.
"I've got to go before your Mom kills me, she never liked it when I drop in like this, but I used the stairs."
I laughed. "Stairs? No way!" I hugged him, "It's good to see you." Dad didn't really approve of Stefan because no vampires are good vampires, but Mom thought otherwise and I and my wolf agreed with her. Stefan was a really good friend, even though he was a million years old.
"How have you been?"
"Okay, Aspen Creek isn't nearly as fun as here, but it is okay. What've you been up to?"
"Drinking blood, avoiding sunlight, nothing unusual."
"There must be something, the Mystery Machine is in the shop again. What did you do?" I rolled my eyes.
"I didn't do anything. It's just getting work down." He sighed, "Pretty soon I have to buy a new one and paint it all over again."
I put my hand over my mouth in mock horror. "Not all over again? Whatever will you do?"
He grinned.
"Porsche, I know Stefan is up there, tell him it's past your bedtime." Mom yelled. "And I'd like to talk to him."
"Well, you heard her." I sighed, "She wants to talk to you." Stefan acted scared.
"Uh-oh, if you hear screaming, come save me."
I laughed and nodded. He kissed my forehead and left.
"Ah, Shaggy, whatever would Scooby-Doo do without you?" I shook my head and curled up a second time, this time falling fast asleep.
~α*β*Ω~
A/N-
Okay, not my best work but I was inspired by the concert my Dad took my Mom to last night and when he suddenly said "Next time he comes to town, we should have some Father-Daughter bonding time" I thought what better way to put Adam and Porsche through more than they already have other than music?! I personally do love Dr. John (especially the name, it reminds me of Dr. Pepper) because he is very talented. It's not at all my type of music, but he brings something to the audience that I think more singers should.
"That's my motherly-moment for today."—our Algebra teacher
I realized just now that I spelled "Stefan" wrong in chapter 3. I was so mad at myself and went "HOW DID I DO THAT?!" and not even my beta caught it, that's the real shocker.
And, no, I didn't run this chapter by her so she will probably kill me. If I no longer update, you know why.
~Shea
