Christine was having a terrible, rotten day. She had a lot of them… too many of them. If she was honest she couldn't remember the last good day she had. She thought that was probably at least a little bit her fault. No one else seemed to have as many bad days as she did.
It wasn't all her fault though. People were mean. Customers were rude and it wasn't her fault that she was small and seemed like the easiest person to bully. These days she had gotten better at holding it together - she hadn't cried in front of anyone in a long time, at least, and she thought that was probably a success.
Honestly now that she had Erik to talk to, she didn't cry nearly as often as she had. She used to get off work and go home to her quiet apartment and cry. Now she got to go home and talk to him. It was usually enough to lift her spirits at least a little bit. The time they spent together was her favorite part of the day, even if they weren't really together. It gave her something to look forward to and even if she never got to actually meet him, that was invaluable. She needed things to look forward to more often than not.
"Isn't your spring break coming up?"
Only a few days had gone by since he had noticed the fresh mark on her leg and, to Christine's immense relief, it hadn't seemed to change anything at all except that he asked her if she was okay more often. She knew that she overreacted. She was prone to it. Her anxiety had ramped up tenfold since her dad died and no matter how much she tried, she hadn't been able to hold it back like she had been able to before. "Mhm," she answered, using her finger to mark the paragraph she had stopped on in her textbook and looking up at him. He gave her that half smile that she had so quickly grown used to. "It starts Friday."
"Hm," he said, taking a sip from the streaming coffee cup that sat on the desk in front of him. The string of a teabag hung over the edge of it. Christine had learned that he must drink a lot of tea. He always seemed to have a hot cup with him. "How long will you be off for?"
"Just two weeks," she answered, looking back down at her book.
She heard the clink of his cup on the desk. "Do you have any plans?"
"I'll probably pick up some shifts," she admitted, still staring at the book. She wasn't reading anymore, not really. "It would be nice to have something to put into savings. I think it'd make me feel a lot better."
He was silent for a long minute and she had just decided to try to start reading again when he spoke up. "Just work? That's no fun, princess. Maybe you and Meg could find something to do. It would be good for you to get out of that apartment for a little while."
She gave up on the textbook entirely, looking back at him. "Like what?" she asked with a sarcastic laugh. "I can't afford anything."
"I don't know; a walk in the park, birdwatching." She watched his genuine smile grow when she laughed. "Or, I mean… you could always come and see me too."
She froze. She was pretty sure she had a dumb look on her face - she was mostly convinced that she had misheard him.
After a long silence Erik cleared his throat and took another sip from the coffee cup. "Or not," he said softly. "It was only a thought."
It took her a minute to find her words and when she did, she still couldn't make them come out quite right. "... really?" she whispered.
Her question seemed to ease him. "I don't see why not," he answered. "Just for a week or - even just a few days. Whatever you're comfortable with. I think it'd be good for you to look at someone else's four walls. Have you ever been to Chicago?"
"No," she breathed. Her heart was suddenly racing and she wasn't sure if it was from excitement or anxiety. "Do you really - Daddy, you'd get sick of me so fast."
"Oh, I don't think that's something you need to worry about, princess," he answered warmly. "There's plenty to see around here and I'm pretty sure you still have time to request a few days off, at least. A vacation would do you well."
Her first reaction was unbridled excitement. She wanted nothing more than to be there. To be with him, in his arms, to run her hands through his thick hair the way she imagined doing so often. That gave way quickly to crushing disappointment when she actually thought about it.
First she frowned. Then she wiped at the stupid tears that she felt gathering on her lower eyelids.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" his voice was so soft and warm, comforting, and she closed her eyes.
She hadn't cried in front of anyone in a long time. She guessed she would have to restart that count now. "... I can't afford it, Daddy," she whispered, her voice shaking. It wasn't a lie. She could barely afford to keep the electric on, let alone a cheap coffee. There was no way she would be able to afford a plane ticket - not for a long time.
"Sweetheart," he breathed. When she gave no reaction to him he sighed. "Christine, princess, listen to me. Don't even worry about that, okay? Do you have luggage?"
At that she started to actually cry. She wiped furiously at the warm tears. Of course she didn't have luggage. She wasn't even sure that she had ever actually been on a real vacation. It was just one more expense. "I don't," she answered, not even trying to hide the way her voice trembled.
"Hey, sweetheart, please don't cry... Do you want to come and see me?" he asked gently.
Christine nodded and sniffled, using the back of her wrist to wipe at her eyes.
"Okay," he said softly. "Good. I want you to too, do you know that? I want you here pretty badly, Christine. So I'm going to order you some luggage, okay? Everyone should have a set anyway. And then I want you to ask for some days off of work and tell me when you want to be here, okay? I'm going to take care of it. You don't need to worry about it."
She tried to blink away her tears. "That's really expensive," she mumbled eventually.
"I think you just might be worth it," he answered softly. "I just need your apartment number and your favorite color, sweetheart."
"I don't like it, Chris," Meg said, digging her hand into the partially burnt bag of popcorn. She was leaning against Christine's counter. It was kind of Christine's fault that the popcorn had been burned - she sprung on the idea of visiting Erik while Meg had been setting the cook time and she must have misclicked a button in her surprise. "Like, you really don't know this guy. Honestly. I don't think it's a good idea."
Christine was coughing, making her way across the room to pry open the heavy window in the living room. When she moved in it had been painted shut. She had to chip it loose with a butter knife. She was suddenly glad that she had. "I know him," Christine argued with a cough. "How is this smell not bothering you?"
Meg shrugged and dipped her hand back into the bag. "But really, Chris. Like. What if he's a psychopath or something? I can't just come get you in Chicago. I don't like it."
"You can't call someone else a psychopath when you're eating burnt popcorn," Christine laughed, trying her best to keep things lighthearted. "He gave me his address and everything. I really don't think he's gonna murder me, Meg. I honestly don't."
"Get your laptop," Meg said, setting the bag of popcorn on the counter. "Let's pull it up and look."
Ten minutes later they were huddled shoulder to shoulder on the couch, staring at a street view of an apartment complex. It was tall, really tall.
"Please get that out of my face," Christine mumbled, pushing the popcorn bag away from her. "It's seriously the worst thing I've ever smelled."
"It isn't that bad, you're just a baby," Meg huffed. "You're sure that's the right one, huh? So he lives in an apartment too?"
"He says he lives in a penthouse."
Meg choked, coughed, and got up to walk to the kitchen and dig a water bottle out of the nearly-empty refrigerator.
"Told you you should've thrown it out." Christine was fully satisfied when her friend flicked up her middle finger while she chugged the water bottle.
"And you believe him?" Meg asked breathlessly, her eyes watering from trying to hold back her coughing fit.
"Well… yeah. I mean, I trust him," Christine said slowly. "And I also googled him and he's literally the CEO of an architecture firm so… yeah. I believe him."
"Jesus," Meg breathed. "You didn't tell me any of this, Chris… I still don't like it but you're a big girl. I can't make you not go. I just - I really want you to be safe, okay?"
"Meg says you're gonna murder me and hang me from the rafters," Christine greeted him one evening when he answered her call.
"That might be a little difficult," he answered. Suddenly the camera was moving and Christine was looking up at a plain white ceiling. "I don't have rafters."
"I didn't say I thought that, Daddy," she giggled. "It's just what Meg said."
He hummed, slowly re-adjusting the camera so that he was back in its frame. "And what do you think, princess?"
"Well," she said softly. "I don't think you're gonna kill me."
"And yet you're fidgeting," he pointed out, looking pointedly at her hand that was busy picking at the fuzzy lint on her sweatshirt. "Are you nervous?"
She looked down at her sleeve and pinched at a few bigger pieces of lint, shrugging.
"You do know," he prodded. "Tell me what you're nervous about."
"Uhh," she said slowly, trying to piece a response together. She thought that everything probably wasn't the answer he was looking for. "I've never been on a plane before," she said, peeking at him. "And I've never been to Chicago. And also… I don't know. Maybe I'm nervous that you'll meet me in person and find out you don't really like me that much."
"I will like you plenty. Probably even more in person," he pointed out. "Would you feel more comfortable if I came there instead?"
She glanced around at her apartment. She was embarrassed enough to take her clothes. The thought of him sitting on her ratty couch and finding her mattress-on-the-floor of a bed was mortifying. "No," she said, looking back at him. "You already bought me a ticket and it - it'd just be silly. I'll be okay once I get there."
"... are you at least a little excited?" he asked gently.
"Of course I am," she said, forcing a weak smile. "I'm just… I'm a little nervous too."
"I think I understand that." From the way he said it, she thought he probably did. "Just like we have been - we will things slowly. I don't want to make you anxious, sweetheart. I want you to feel safe with me and I don't expect you to be perfect, you know that, right? I know that you're very new to all of this. It can be… overwhelming. I'm going to do my best not to overwhelm you."
"I know," she said softly. "And I really - I think once I get there I'll be okay. I really do, Daddy. It's just the waiting."
"I wish that I could've gotten you an earlier flight," he said. His elbow was on the desk and his chin was resting in his palm. "I'll be waiting for you at the airport and when you get here I'm going to bring you right home. I'm pretty excited for you to see it. I'm pretty excited to make you dinner too. Is that weird? Those are the kinds of things I'm excited about, sweetheart. Meeting you. Actually getting to know you. We can go do all those little tourist things us residents hate so much. Is there anything that you really want to see?"
"I haven't really thought about it," she admitted.
"Well there you go," he murmured. "I want you to look into it over the next few days. Find some things that you want to see or do. I think that would be a good distraction."
"Did you make a list?" he asked.
Christine had him on speakerphone, bustling around her room while she packed her new brown and pink polka dot suitcase. She really liked it. It was cute but it wasn't over the top. It wasn't frilly and childish, it was just, well… cute.
"Uh uh," she said, tossing a pair of jeans into the open suitcase on her mattress.
"Hmm, essentials. Hairbrush?"
"I need that," she answered. "I'll pack it in the morning. And my toothbrush and toothpaste and all that stuff."
"... birth control."
She flushed at that and was suddenly glad they weren't on a video chat. It was a question more than anything, she recognized that. "I have an IUD," she mumbled. "Couldn't forget it if I tried."
"That's good." He sounded relieved. "I'm just trying to help. You should make a list next time… don't worry too much, sweetheart. I have toothpaste and there's a store on every corner here."
"And you remember you promised you'd text me when you land, and when you get to his place," Meg insisted.
The airport was busy. Four in the afternoon probably wasn't the best idea. Christine almost regretted the fact that she hadn't asked him to book her a nighttime flight. There was too much going on, too many people bustling around her. "I remember, mother," she said, rolling her eyes at her friend.
"And you better do it," Meg huffed. "You gave me his address and if I don't hear from you after you land I'm not scared to send the cops to his door."
"You're so over dramatic," Christine complained.
"Yeah, well, you love me for it."
Christine had to admit that she did. Without Meg she honestly had no idea where she would be. Meg has been the one that picked up the pieces after her dad died. She had been the one that sat on the phone with her for three hours while Christine cried. She had been the one that helped her find her job, helped her move. Meg was definitely a bit of a mother hen. That's why Christine wasn't surprised when Meg completely ignored her when she said she really didn't need anyone to come to the airport with her. Even though she would never tell Meg, she was glad that she had. She had never flown anywhere before and she wasn't sure that her bag would've ever been checked right if Meg wasn't there to direct her at least a little bit. Sometimes Christine was a little embarrassed by how unequipped she was to deal with even the simpler parts of life. Trying to understand a credit score had been the worst nightmare of her life.
"Now give me a kiss," Meg teased, wrapping her arms around Christine and planting an exaggerated kiss on her cheek with a "muah!"
"Get off me you creep," Christine laughed, hugging her friend back tightly.
"Rich coming from you, princess."
"God it sounds so much worse when you say it," Christine mumbled, pulling away from her friend. "I promise I'll text you."
"And remember that you're small," Meg said. "You're totally allowed to fight dirty if you have to. No one is gonna be mad at you if you have to kick him in the nuts."
"Oh my God," Christine couldn't help her laugh. "I promise I'll be safe and I'll see you in a week, Meg. I don't want to get stuck in security and miss the flight."