then what it was like to fight off Reggie. The admiration in their voices rang clear. She heard the wonder and the open morbidity. Once the question was asked, everyone fell to her like flies on honeyed pakhana.
It took Hassan to see her and come work a bit of crowd control so she could grab a lunch she didn’t want, because she had none of Rani’s cooking. She took a seat at the “it” table, where they ventured with only one Reggie Knight question before Hassan warned them to shut the hell up.
So that was her day.
It wasn't until Edy came home from school and read the note from her dad that she realized some very strange territory was about to be embarked on.
Edy,
Forgive me for the hurried leave, but we wound up needing to depart earlier than expected. I know you'll be in capable hands next door, even if this is a difficult time. Don’t hesitate to talk to Rani if you need to. Of course, make sure to get your dinners there, too. Anytime you feel like the house is too much, given everything that’s happened, you can always stay next door. In fact, Ali and I would prefer if you did, but I know how independent teens can be. I didn’t want to rob you of the choice. Whatever you decide, Rani knows to set up the guestroom for you should you want it. Expect your mother to be in and out.
Dad
Edy stared at the paper forever, paper that danced under gusts of central heating currents. She stood in the hull of a darkened house, the sole inhabitant post-apocalypse. Had she been abandoned? It felt like it. Had she been left to fend for herself? Sort of. Going to Rani for everyday care and shelter weren’t within her realm of possibilities. That left Edy in a hollowed out home still sticky from crime tape.
She could make do. She would have to.
So, home alone. An empty house. The silver screen said she should dial fifty friends, set her house on fire, and do keg stands in a loose fitting bikini.
Eh, she’d settle for OJ out the jug and a homework binge. Being an AP juggernaut came with responsibilities, after all, as a few of the teachers tut tutted over her while still giving out their assignments. No matter, she’d kill the work and raid the fridge for roast beef, old turkey, wilted lettuce, whatever. What Edy wouldn’t do was drag a bowl and spoon over to the Pradhans Charles Dickens-style and beg up on a little thin soup with a bit of crusty bread.
The homework refused to be done. Edy told herself she was a capable girl, but still it wouldn’t listen. She moved on to thoughts of independent living and wondered at the feasibility of it. She had money of her own; well, a credit card or three. The bills would’ve been paid. She could grocery shop, she supposed, but that would tip her dad off that something was amiss at home. A call to her mother would alleviate the food shortage, if not the emptiness of the house. The second she thought of interrupting her mother’s campaign stumping to wave for a little attention, Edy’s fast souring stomach promptly dismissed it. How long would it take her mother to notice that her kid had no food to eat? Better still, would she ever?
Following a dig through the fridge that actually did turn up wilted lettuce, Edy went on the hunt for takeout menus. She’d order Chinese, which would send her enough to hold her over for that night and the next, and at least that way she’d feel like she had a semblance of a plan.
Just not a very good one.
She sat at the kitchen table, head bowed over her history text when banging sounded at the door.
Banging with the first knock? Talk about rude. Well, maybe the restaurant was short staffed and the deliverer had a lot of drop offs to make. Still, denting her door in was going to give him a whole new set of problems.
Edy threw the door open to face Hassan.
His chest was a mold of power rising and falling in jagged breaths. God, that shirt he wore snagged tight just where it should.
“Edy, come on. Let’s grab dinner out
It took Hassan to see her and come work a bit of crowd control so she could grab a lunch she didn’t want, because she had none of Rani’s cooking. She took a seat at the “it” table, where they ventured with only one Reggie Knight question before Hassan warned them to shut the hell up.
So that was her day.
It wasn't until Edy came home from school and read the note from her dad that she realized some very strange territory was about to be embarked on.
Edy,
Forgive me for the hurried leave, but we wound up needing to depart earlier than expected. I know you'll be in capable hands next door, even if this is a difficult time. Don’t hesitate to talk to Rani if you need to. Of course, make sure to get your dinners there, too. Anytime you feel like the house is too much, given everything that’s happened, you can always stay next door. In fact, Ali and I would prefer if you did, but I know how independent teens can be. I didn’t want to rob you of the choice. Whatever you decide, Rani knows to set up the guestroom for you should you want it. Expect your mother to be in and out.
Dad
Edy stared at the paper forever, paper that danced under gusts of central heating currents. She stood in the hull of a darkened house, the sole inhabitant post-apocalypse. Had she been abandoned? It felt like it. Had she been left to fend for herself? Sort of. Going to Rani for everyday care and shelter weren’t within her realm of possibilities. That left Edy in a hollowed out home still sticky from crime tape.
She could make do. She would have to.
So, home alone. An empty house. The silver screen said she should dial fifty friends, set her house on fire, and do keg stands in a loose fitting bikini.
Eh, she’d settle for OJ out the jug and a homework binge. Being an AP juggernaut came with responsibilities, after all, as a few of the teachers tut tutted over her while still giving out their assignments. No matter, she’d kill the work and raid the fridge for roast beef, old turkey, wilted lettuce, whatever. What Edy wouldn’t do was drag a bowl and spoon over to the Pradhans Charles Dickens-style and beg up on a little thin soup with a bit of crusty bread.
The homework refused to be done. Edy told herself she was a capable girl, but still it wouldn’t listen. She moved on to thoughts of independent living and wondered at the feasibility of it. She had money of her own; well, a credit card or three. The bills would’ve been paid. She could grocery shop, she supposed, but that would tip her dad off that something was amiss at home. A call to her mother would alleviate the food shortage, if not the emptiness of the house. The second she thought of interrupting her mother’s campaign stumping to wave for a little attention, Edy’s fast souring stomach promptly dismissed it. How long would it take her mother to notice that her kid had no food to eat? Better still, would she ever?
Following a dig through the fridge that actually did turn up wilted lettuce, Edy went on the hunt for takeout menus. She’d order Chinese, which would send her enough to hold her over for that night and the next, and at least that way she’d feel like she had a semblance of a plan.
Just not a very good one.
She sat at the kitchen table, head bowed over her history text when banging sounded at the door.
Banging with the first knock? Talk about rude. Well, maybe the restaurant was short staffed and the deliverer had a lot of drop offs to make. Still, denting her door in was going to give him a whole new set of problems.
Edy threw the door open to face Hassan.
His chest was a mold of power rising and falling in jagged breaths. God, that shirt he wore snagged tight just where it should.
“Edy, come on. Let’s grab dinner out
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