The next week flew by for everyone except Jack. Congressman Jolly's
daughter had been recovered in under 24 hours, safe and unharmed, so Jack
was able to finish his well-needed, long-awaited week's vacation from work.
Unfortunately, the time off was proving to be more stressful for Jack than
working could ever have been.
He spoken with Hanna twice on the phone, and each conversation had been very strained on both ends. It was finally decided that they would drive to the city from Rochester that following Friday, the twenty-fifth of May. Jack had insisted that they fly, but Hanna had been firm in telling him that she was driving the Ford Aspire that she shared with Kate. Most of their belongings would be stuffed inside the small white car, but the furniture was scheduled to arrive a day earlier so that it would be there in time for their arrival.
"No way I'm going to have two teenage girls living here with me," Jack sighed late on Wednesday night, wondering how the three of them were going to live comfortably until he could find a bigger place. "Their furniture alone could fill up my whole apartment," he murmured, surveying the small- ish second bedroom with disdain. Jack pursed his lips and headed to the kitchen for what was becoming a somewhat nightly ritual: a drink. He poured himself a small glass of scotch and wondered how Hanna and Kate would fare sharing a room for the first time in almost ten years. "And they're used to their own rooms, so how much is this going to end up costing me?" Jack murmured, idly shaking his drink in a circular motion before taking a swift sip.
Jack took his drink out into the living room and collapsed on his dark green couch, sinking into the soft, old fabric. He was having a hard enough time dealing with the physical aspect of his daughters moving in with him that he hadn't even begun to think about the emotional part of it. Jack took a set his glass down on the end table closest to him and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Who am I kidding?" he said aloud. Judging alone from their last explosive encounter together, his daughters hated him, he was sure of it.
Glancing at the clock, Jack could feel his blood pulsating at his temples and realized that he needed to get to bed soon so he could be up early enough to greet the moving truck. He hoisted himself up off of the couch and finished his drink in one long swallow. He rubbed his back and slowly staggered to the kitchen to put his empty glass in the sink, deciding against a second drink. On his way to his bedroom, Jack stopped by what was to be his daughters' room one last time. "They're going to have one hell of a time getting all their shit crammed in here," Jack said, shaking his head one last time at the bare bedroom.
He spoken with Hanna twice on the phone, and each conversation had been very strained on both ends. It was finally decided that they would drive to the city from Rochester that following Friday, the twenty-fifth of May. Jack had insisted that they fly, but Hanna had been firm in telling him that she was driving the Ford Aspire that she shared with Kate. Most of their belongings would be stuffed inside the small white car, but the furniture was scheduled to arrive a day earlier so that it would be there in time for their arrival.
"No way I'm going to have two teenage girls living here with me," Jack sighed late on Wednesday night, wondering how the three of them were going to live comfortably until he could find a bigger place. "Their furniture alone could fill up my whole apartment," he murmured, surveying the small- ish second bedroom with disdain. Jack pursed his lips and headed to the kitchen for what was becoming a somewhat nightly ritual: a drink. He poured himself a small glass of scotch and wondered how Hanna and Kate would fare sharing a room for the first time in almost ten years. "And they're used to their own rooms, so how much is this going to end up costing me?" Jack murmured, idly shaking his drink in a circular motion before taking a swift sip.
Jack took his drink out into the living room and collapsed on his dark green couch, sinking into the soft, old fabric. He was having a hard enough time dealing with the physical aspect of his daughters moving in with him that he hadn't even begun to think about the emotional part of it. Jack took a set his glass down on the end table closest to him and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "Who am I kidding?" he said aloud. Judging alone from their last explosive encounter together, his daughters hated him, he was sure of it.
Glancing at the clock, Jack could feel his blood pulsating at his temples and realized that he needed to get to bed soon so he could be up early enough to greet the moving truck. He hoisted himself up off of the couch and finished his drink in one long swallow. He rubbed his back and slowly staggered to the kitchen to put his empty glass in the sink, deciding against a second drink. On his way to his bedroom, Jack stopped by what was to be his daughters' room one last time. "They're going to have one hell of a time getting all their shit crammed in here," Jack said, shaking his head one last time at the bare bedroom.