Page 81 of The Scars I Bare
My heart picked up again as Lizzie ran up to us, taking my other free hand, while Dean walked behind us. I knew my mother was curious about the man who was definitely not my husband, but she didn’t ask any questions.
Instead, she looked down at her granddaughter, who was being unusually shy today, and asked, “Do you like chickens?”
We stepped up onto the porch and toward the front door, and I could already see the wheels turning in Lizzie’s head.
“Yes,” she answered.
Dean and I looked at each other and smiled, waiting for it.
“Did you know that chickens are omnivores? That means, they eat plants and animals. Kind of like humans. Although there’s a kid at school, Dalton, who says he’s a vegetarian, so I guess not all humans.”
My mom’s eyebrow rose, a sort of mixed expression of surprise and adoration washing over her face. She looked up at me, and I simply shrugged.
“I did know that. Our chickens sometimes eat the mice and lizards that roam around the barn.”
Lizzie looked up at me as her eyes lit up. “You have chickens?”
“Yep,” my mom answered as we walked inside. “And a goat!”
“Wow, can we go see—”
“Cora.”
There, in the hallway where I’d learned to walk, was my father. He looked nearly the same as I remembered him. Same goofy outwardly appearance, wearing aGuardians of the GalaxyT-shirt and jeans that had probably been bought when I was in high school. He had a pencil tucked behind his ear and a smile on his face.
“Hi, Daddy,” I whispered.
His eyes looked down toward Lizzie, and I could almost see his heart swell several sizes. He briefly looked to Dean before moving back to me.
“Did you see the Christmas special?” he asked, grinning.
My mom made a sound in the back of her throat and threw her hands up in the air as she headed for the kitchen, mumbling something under her breath about, “…been apart for years, and that’s what he asks.”
“Yes.” I grinned back.
“And?”
“Brilliant,” I replied.
Just like I had known he would, he laughed, opening his arms wide. I ran right into them.
As I was engulfed in my father’s hug, I heard Dean say to Lizzie, “What Christmas special?”
“Doctor Who,” Lizzie informed him. “Mommy watched it after I went to bed because she thinks I’m not old enough.”
“Not old enough?” my dad bellowed as I turned toward my band of misfits, his arm still wrapped firmly around my shoulders. “You’re never too young for the Doctor.”
I gave him a sideways glance that told him I seriously disagreed. “And, when she has nightmares over Cybermen and Weeping Angels, who will she be waking up at night, Dad?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Oh well, it’s good for the character. Teaches bravery.” He gave Lizzie a wink, causing her to giggle. “Now, come on. Let’s go see what Nana has for us in the kitchen.” He pulled me close and whispered in my ear, “And maybe you can explain who your friend is?”
I nodded as Dean was dragged into the kitchen ahead of us.
Well, here goes nothing.
After my several attempts and false starts while sitting around the kitchen table, Dean saved me.
“You know, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a goat up close,” he said after we all finished cups of iced tea in near perfect silence. “Do you mind if Lizzie and I go roam the property for a bit?”
