Vol. 6, Chapter XI — Groceries and Grievances

The rain was pouring outside the car, the windshield wipers squeaking as Sophie carefully drove, leaning slightly forward to try to see better what was in front of her.

Last night, the sky had been clear, but this morning, I woke up with a rumble and Abby letting out a scared squeak as she headbutted my chest in her panic of thunder. Luckily, the thundering had already passed, but the rain persisted.

Normally, I’d have stayed at home, but there were groceries desperately needed, so I joined Sophie for some errands. She had some stuff from Mrs Fletcher that needed to be delivered to our Dads, so I went with her, my Dad, and William, the latter driving us to their office and then letting Sophie have the car for the day.

And Abby? She stayed at home so we had a hot meal ready once we were done with our tasks.

“It really isn’t letting up today, is it?” Sophie grumbled as she parked in front of the office.

“I just hope it doesn’t start thundering again while Abby is alone,” I mumbled, my heart aching just from thinking about her small stature trembling as she cried, calling out my name under a blanket.

“Well,” Sophie said, clicking her tongue as she reached for the backseat where the umbrella and the groceries were. “All the more reason for us to not just sit here waiting for an opening.”

I had no need to step outside the car, but I was curious to see what it was like inside my Dads’— my Dad and my in-law, I mean, workplace.

The building looked grey and cold on the outside, your typical square building with walls made of steel and glass panes, the water running down it making it look as if it was melting despite the wet coldness of the air. I quickly adjusted my garter belt tights, using the short field of vision the pouring rain allowed as a curtain, together with the fact that we were still inside the car. They had shifted a bit while I was sitting, or maybe with the repeated getting in and out of the car.

“Oh, you’re wearing the ones I gave you!” Sophie chirped.

“D-don’t look!” I gasped, realising I had grown a bit too comfortable around her.

“Don’t hike up your skirt then!” she argued back, also blushing as she looked away.

I promptly apologised, telling her I was done. I also told her again that they are very comfortable… and that they were my favourite ones.

“They are?” she said, her face still red, but now smiling. “That’s good to hear!”

With that, we finally got out of the car, me waiting for her to come around with the umbrella before stepping out.

Going inside was like night and day, the controlled atmosphere of the building being an inviting air, not too hot, not too cold, and most importantly, not so damp that it feels like your skin is wet.

“Good morning, Miss Gardner,” the receptionist said with a professional smile. “And good morn…”

She looked at me with an expression of someone who was recognising me, although I had no idea who she was.

Then…

“I remember you,” she said, going back to smiling. “You’re Stanley’s daughter, aren’t you? My, I didn’t remember you being this pretty! Then again, last time we met, it was when your Dad wanted to talk with Mr Gardner. Do you perhaps not remember me?”

“You’re… that nice receptionist, aren’t you?” I asked, a vague memory popping up in my mind.

Truth be told, I couldn’t remember her face, only that the receptionist was a woman, and that she had given me a packet of tissues to soak up the blood coming from the wound I had on my lip from being hit by Abby’s mum.

At least I thought it had to be her, as I wasn’t seeing who else it might have been from what she just told me and the fact that a lot of people working for William now came from Abby’s Mum’s company.

“That’s right, that was me,” she hummed, her smile widening. “I’m glad to see that it didn’t leave a scar.”

“No, erm, it actually did,” I said, tapping the spot on my lip. “My wi— I actually put on some lipstick today, so it’s even less noticeable, but it is definitely there.”

Sophie snickered at my almost accidental slip-up. She then cleared her throat before speaking.

“I’ve got a package for my Dad and Stan,” she told the receptionist, showing the cardboard box she was carrying under her arm.

“You can leave it here, if you want,” the woman told her with a courteous tone. “I’ll gladly deliver it to them.”

“That’s quite all right, Joanne,” Sophie said, her tone gaining a bit of an edge. “I need to talk with them, so I might as well deliver it to them personally.”

And just like that, she stormed off into the building through a door, not giving me any time to react. I was reeling a bit, confused about what got into her when Joanne spoke to me again.

“You know, your father is quite popular around the office,” she told me, her tone hushed as she leaned over the desk, abandoning her professional posture and adopting one that screamed of a gossipy mood. “However, he doesn’t seem to spare a glance at anyone in particular.”

Aah, so that’s what you want to know…

What a pain. What a huge, huge pain.

I was well aware that Dad was popular with the ladies, even more so now that he dresses a bit better and works out. Why, just a few days ago, we met at a convenience store by coincidence after he came out of the gym, and I was subjected to seeing the cashier flirting with him while he obliviously smiled at her with that easy-going and approachable smile of his. It didn’t bother me at all, or at least, that didn’t use to bother me, that is. Now that Sophie was in the picture, stuff like that was a threat to my precious peace and quiet.

Was this also why Sophie acted the way she did?

Had this woman, Joanne, asked Sophie about it and struck a nerve?

What to do…?

“I don’t know anything about that,” I said, thinking as fast as I could. “My Dad is way too focused on his work and me, I think…”

“Hmm, that’s a bit of a shame,” she hummed as she slowly went back to sitting straight. “Although that also has its charm, you know? Makes him look even more dependable.”

Please, shut up already.

“Erm, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll say hi to my Dad too.”

“Oh, of course! His office is right by Mr Gardner’s, so you just have to go straight ahead once you reach the third floor.”

I needn’t be told twice that, immediately darting off while also trying to be casual about it. No sooner had I stepped through the door, I felt a presence behind me. I was mid-turn when I saw Sophie, still with the parcel under her arm, reaching for me. She linked arms with me as she moved her face way too close to mine while we walked.

“So? What did you think of her?” she asked, her voice just a whisper, and still carrying that edge, only, now it was on full display.

Oh my God! She’s the jealous type of woman!

I told myself that she was just still in that phase of liking my Dad. Currently, everyone and everything was a threat to her eyes, so of course, she’d get jealous. I did too, a lot, not just in the number of times, but also in the intensity of it.

It’s still a huge pain, though…

As for her question… I guess Joanne looks nice? A simple beauty, maybe a bit soft around her midsection, but she also appeared to be approaching her forties, so…

“She’s too nosy,” I told Sophie, hoping that’d be enough.

“That’s not what I meant!” she whined, making me feel even more annoyed. “I meant, like, did you find her prettier than me? More… mature?”

“…Haah, Sophie,” I cried out. “You’re the spitting image of my wife, so what do you think I think about your looks?”

“…Ok, but…”

“But nothing!” I told her. “Look, she might be closer in age to my Dad than you, but I’m sure you’ve got stuff going for you that she doesn’t.”

“…True,” she said, now seemingly starting to sulk. “Claire says that men prefer younger women in general… and I know what food he likes best…”

She’s such a pain! Go bother Claire with this stuff then, not me!

As much as I wanted to voice that frustration, I bit my tongue since we were getting to our Dads’ offices. They were encased in glass and had their shutters open, so we stepped inside the one I assumed belonged to William. It was the one with the furniture more “business-like” of the two, the one that clearly belonged to Dad more focused on being a more “liveable space”. William’s was all polished metal and black leather; Dad’s was wood and cloth, either dark red or black.

“Well, look at you acting so buddy-buddy,” my Dad immediately said as soon as we stepped inside the office. “Abby might be jealous if she finds out.”

“I’m sure she’d have a field day poking fun at us,” I said as Sophie finally let go of me.

My dad laughed as he covered a deep yawn, saying something that came out as incomprehensible as a result. Sophie asked if he hadn’t had any sleep last night. Dad assured her he did, he just hadn’t had any coffee yet.

William interrupted the conversation as he checked the contents of the parcel, asking if that was all. Sophie confirmed with him that it was, as the two went through it one dossier at a time. Dad used the opportunity to give me some attention, resting his hands on my arms and asking how I slept and if I was properly dressed for the weather. I turned a few shades of red because I was remembering the comment Joanne made about my dad being popular, and, despite not having looked behind me, I was certain the women in the office were staring at us, maybe fawning over him for being such a good, loving father figure.

“Dad, people might be watching,” I told him.

Instead of letting go, he pulled me in for a hug, both annoying me and leaving me feeling comforted by his hold. He always had a way to make me feel small and protected, kinda like Abby might feel when I hug her?

I then noticed that William and Sophie were staring at us, both amused and touched by my Dad’s soft side and my stubbornly reluctant attitude that betrayed the fact that I was, in fact, enjoying it deep down.

Sophie’s soft gaze in particular stroke a cord in my being.

“Say, Sophie?” I began, putting some distance between Dad and me. “You haven’t had your morning coffee either, have you? Why not have it with my Dad while we are here?”

“But, what about Abby?” Sophie asked in return, her eyes widening with surprise.

“It will only take a minute, won’t it?” I said. “Besides, it’s warm and dry here, so I’d like to enjoy this before going back to the cold sogginess outside.”

She smiled at me, having realised what I was doing. I watched them leave for the coffee, noticing how some women glanced at them, some now being the jealous ones. It felt… kinda nice, actually.

“Are you sure about this?” William asked, his voice deeper than usual.

I looked back at him. He was with his scary CEO persona on, sharp-eyed and half of his face covered by his crossed fingers as he leaned over the desk on his elbows.

There was no point in playing dumb.

“Honestly, it weirds me out a bit,” I told him, taking a seat across his desk. “He’s my dad, and she’s my sister-in-law, so it makes it really weird, but… I also don’t want to just stomp on her feelings… It’s her first love, after all…”

He glared at me for a moment, not out of anger, but of concentration as he thought about what to say or ask next.

“You know that I completely trust in your father, right?” he asked, his voice dry, almost emotionless. “It’s not that I have a problem with him per se, but with this whole situation. He’s older than her by quite a few years, he still mourns the death of your mother, he’s already a father, and he’s my best friend, and arguably the only real one. I’ve always thought I wanted Sophie to meet a man like Stan. I never expected that person to turn out to be Stan, however.”

“…”

“…He told me, promised me, that he’d be careful not to lead her around. I know he’ll do his best for Sophie. He also told me that we shouldn’t really interfere, just let her deal with her own feelings. Respect her autonomy. Do you agree with that?”

“…Erm, is that because I kinda created a situation for them to spend time together?” I asked. “Because, I agree with you, we really shouldn’t interfere, but… She’s very important to me, so I’d like to also treasure her feelings for my Dad.”

He stared me down for a long while, making me shift on the chair. I wondered for a second what everyone was thinking, assuming they noticed the mood between him and me. They likely did. We were encased in glass like some exposition of two awkward people talking about an awkward subject matter.

The room felt like it deflated its tension as he let out a long breath and closed his eyes. He reclined back into his chair, it creaking as the hinge allowed him to lean further back.

“I really don’t think I should have much say in it anyway,” he said, his voice sounding final. “I married someone thirteen years younger than me, so I can’t recriminate the age gap between them, and I’ve seen time and time again how worthy your Dad is of being trusted with delicate matters. As your Dad said when we talked about it, I likely should just stay on the sidelines and watch, only interfering to support her if needed, whether it is to offer a shoulder for her to cry on, or who knows, share in her joy.”

“…You think there’s a possibility?”

“You mean, like I ever thought there’d be a possibility for my younger daughter to eventually be married at seventeen with another girl?”

Right, yeah, our lives really didn’t afford us to simply expect the most likely scenario.

He shifted position again, going back to leaning, but this time, he had his arms crossed over the desk, his face showing a full apologetic look.

“I’m sorry that you—Abby and you, I mean, have to be acting so grown up all the time when you’re still kids. You two should be going around getting into whatever teenage shenanigans kids do nowadays, not dealing with household relationships because the adults are too incompetent to do so themselves.”

“It’s fine,” I told him with a chuckle. “Way we see it, we get to practice being adults with you supporting and guiding us right by our sides, so it’s not like if we mess up, you two are too far away to be of much help. And besides, once I get home, I get the feeling Abby and I will be doing some tickle-wrestling until one of us gives up.”

The last part was something that I’d never say, it being super embarrassing and far too much of sharing our little private world, but just this once, it felt like it was important for him to know that Abby and I still acted like kids, just not when they were looking.

It did seem to work, as he chuckled a recommendation for us to try not to disturb the neighbours, making my vivid blush worth it.

Sophie arrived soon after with my Dad, looking far more energised than a mere coffee should cause, practically humming for me to get up and go home with her.

In the car, she thanked me for the opportunity I gave her to spend ten minutes chatting with my Dad while the women in the office watched.

“Good for you, but just don’t count on me helping you like that all the time,” I told her, feeling awfully tired now that I could relax since it was only Sophie who could see me.

The arrival home carried that same energy, Sophie humming a greeting to her baby sister, who watched her from the step stool as she finished lunch preparations.

“What the hell happened to you two?” Abby asked as I set the grocery bags.

I looked at her for a second, Abby looking like a sparkling goddess as she looked back at me with her big, inquisitive brown eyes sparkled with green stars. Her hair was a bit messy from moving her head around, most likely having bobbed to the sound of music until our arrival. She was also still dressed in one of my shirts that hid her bottom, long fluffy socks practically covered her whole legs, our matching chokers and rings, a constant presence of our bond.

I hugged her from behind, the stool she stood on making her the perfect height for me to bury my face in the crook of her neck and take in her scent, softness and warmth, Abby’s essence washing over me.

“I’m so glad I’m out of the dating market,” I breathed into her neck, slightly tickling her.

“Pfft, hehe! You better be, or I’m divorcing you!” she chirped as she leaned into me. “Now, what was it that happened?”