Chapter Eleven

I blinked my eyes open when I heard things being shuffled around in the kitchen and groaned as I caught sight of the clock. I couldn't believe it was already noon. Had I really slept in so late? I drug my feet to one end of the bed and forced myself to stand and stretch, knowing I shouldn't put it off much longer.

"Emilia, where are the eggs?!" I heard my father yell, from the living room, as the refrigerator door slammed shut.

"I used the last of them in the meatloaf." I called back, making the bed like I always did first thing. "I have to go to the grocery store today. Sorry."

I only heard him grunt in response, so I didn't say anything further. I left him to his own devices as I showered and got ready for the day. I ended up eating a bowl of cereal at the kitchen bar when I discovered we were also out of bread and fruit, my usual breakfast staples.

I was already going over the bills and his paycheck to make sure we could cover everything we needed to this month when he came out of his bedroom in his overalls. "I got a call from Mike. We're going to open up the shop today. We need the business. Be good."

I held up my hand momentarily to stop him, quickly chewing the last bite of my cereal so I wouldn't have to talk with my mouth full as he paused. "You have to endorse this before you go or I won't be able to deposit it." I reminded him, flipping over his pay stub and holding out a pen.

He hastily stepped forwards and scrawled out his signature, along with a note that made it payable to me before grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

"Thank you!" I called after him, as the door closed with a bang. After he'd gone, I took my dishes to the sink and washed them, knowing better than to leave a mess. As I stood to get ready to go to the bank, I checked my phone for messages, wincing when I saw how low the battery had gotten.

Good morning, sunshine!

I forgot to give you that power cord yesterday. I hope your phone hasn't died yet. Text me when you get this.

Both messages were from Jack from around six this morning and I wondered for a second if he'd forgotten which day of the week it was. Just as I began to type a reply, the screen went black and I sighed, putting the now useless device back into my pocket to worry about later.

"Bank, post office, grocery store." I chanted to myself, as I gathered everything, so I wouldn't forget anything I needed for each errand, knowing the bus ride either way would be nearly forty minutes each way

I made sure to put on my white tennies in lieu of my usual flats, knowing that the walk to and from the bus stop would be grueling without arch support. Even standing for as long as I had to on the bus—as I was often left doing—just wasn't as practical in any other pair of shoes.