Chapter 3 - The Morning After the Freeze
The sun came up bright and uncompromising the next morning. By 7:00 AM, my phone was back on, buzzing incessantly against the nightstand like an angry insect.
I ignored the notifications and made breakfast for the kids—chocolate chip pancakes, their favorite. We ate in peace, without the usual morning rush, listening to the birds outside the kitchen window.
At 9:15 AM, a heavy knock rattled the front door.
I didn't need to look through the peephole to know who it was, but I checked anyway. My father stood on the porch, his windbreaker zipped up to his chin despite the morning warmth. He looked tired, his eyes shadowed with dark circles, his posture stooped.
I opened the door, leaning against the frame, keeping my arm draped across the opening. "Morning, Dad."
"Kristen," he started, his voice strained. "We need to talk about last night."
"There’s nothing to talk about," I said calmly. "You made it clear that my children were a burden at your party. I took them home. End of story."
"You locked the card, Kristen! Diane had to use her rent money to cover the tab! The manager almost called the police!" His voice rose, carrying the familiar tone of authority he used whenever family harmony was threatened by someone standing up for themselves.
"Diane ordered $1,900 worth of food and wine on my credit line after telling my seven-year-old kids they were unwanted," I replied, keeping my voice steady and measured. "Did you stop her when she spoke to them like that?"
He shifted his weight, looking down at the welcome mat. "She was stressed, Kristen. You know how she gets."
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"Yes," I said. "I do know how she gets. And now she knows how I get when people hurt my children. Goodbye, Dad."
I closed the door gently before he could answer. Through the frosted glass, I saw him stand there for a long moment before his shadow slowly moved away down the driveway.
