Chapter 2
Home Life
"Daddy, I'm home!" Christine called out as she entered her house.
"Little Lottie." He called out, wheeling himself into the kitchen. She stooped down to hug him and proceeded to begin dinner. "How was your day, princess?"
"I have a job interview lined up for Friday." She said, unable to contain her glee.
"Really?" He said in amazement. "Where?"
"At Music of the Night. It's a news music shop that's going to open in a couple of weeks." Christine grinned, pulling out the whole-grain pancake mix she made. "Is this okay for dinner?"
"Sure, princess." Jonathon Daae watched his daughter move gracefully through the kitchen, a pang of sadness growing in his chest. June 21 was fast approaching; the day he lost his wife and the use of his legs because of a drunk driver. He had prayed to whomever would listen to lessen the pain. But with Christine around, he knew he had to hold on, even if she did look like his dear Gina brought back to life. "When is this interview again?" He asked, trying to take his mind off the coming event.
"Friday, from eleven in the morning to four-thirty in the afternoon." She stated, flipping over a batch of pancakes gracefully.
"I think I have an appointment with Dr. Thomas that day around eleven."
"Then I'll try and go a little later in the day." She reasoned. "You need to go to physical therapy."
"Princess, if this interview means so much to you, I'll have Anne Giry take me." He said, steering himself over to the table to put the placemats down. "I want you to go to that interview."
"Really?" Christine's eyes lit up, the same way his wife's did when he did something she particularly liked. 'I can't wait to tell Meg!' She thought, serving up dinner.
Dinner was a quiet affair, until Jonathon spoke up about the 21st. "Christine, about next week," He began.
"What about it?" She asked around a mouthful of pancake.
"What should we do on… that day?"
Christine sighed. 'Of all the things he could have brought up.' She thought resentfully.
"I think cleaning off her grave and giving her flowers is good." He plowed on, ignoring Christine's silence. "Would you mind picking up some flowers the day before on your wan home from work?"
"Sure." She mumbled. Anything to please him, she kept telling herself.
Her thoughts drifted after dinner: about work, about her father, about that day. Strange, it didn't hurt as badly when she called it that. 'Then again,' She reasoned, 'I guess that's the reasoning behind the whole Voldemort/He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in Harry Potter. It's easier not to refer to the thing that causes me pain than deal with the pain it brings.' She grinned wryly as she shoved plates into the dishwasher and started it up.
Yeah, I'm leaving it there and this was an incredibly short chapter, but the next one will be long. I promise. And I made Christine a Harry Potter fan. Anyway, review to let me know how I'm doing. I like to hear from you guys! And thanks to my one reviewer last time.
