I Love to Write
Capricorn in Aquarius - Part Two
Mom didn't wake me the next morning. Nor did she tell me how Daddy was. Despite the fact that today was a school day and I had a double dose of detention awaiting me, I walked barefoot and in pajamas down the hall to my parents' room.
Daddy was still in bed, coughing softly under his breath. He was still pale and looked uncomfortable. How much of that was due to me? He turned his head, saw me, and held out a weak hand. I ran to the bed like someone so much younger and jumped onto it.
"Ooff," Daddy protested as I landed in an unelegant sprawl.
"Oh, Daddy - I'm sorry!" I laid my head on his chest, listening to the laboring of his heart. He was less feverish, but still belonged in bed for awhile -
From the foot of the stairs, I heard footsteps, then Mom's hectoring voice, "Merrilee, I don't hear that shower! You're going to be late! Where ARE you?"
I groaned; it was involuntary. Dad laid a hand on my hair. "Go answer her before she snatches us baldheaded," he whispered.
Mom's voice again, "Merrilee -!"
I bit back a bitter retort, crossed the hall to the upstairs bathroom, and turned the shower on full force.
"Marianne called here," Mom yelled up; I could barely hear her over the pound of the water as I stepped in. "She wanted to pick you up for school with her father...I told her yes, she'll be here any minute...young lady, do you HEAR me?"
For answer, I turned off the shower, hastily dried off with a thick towel, and ran into my own room. I kicked the muddy outfit I had worn the night before behind my laundry basket, slipped into a wool skirt and short-sleeved pullover sweater over my underwear, then started to roll up my kneehigh socks.
I heard the downstairs chime oi the doorbell. I got into my loafers and came racing down the stairs, combing my still-wet hair,
"You'll be sick in bed alongside your father," Mom grumbled as I struggled into my hooded storm jacket. She opened the door where Mari waited on the porch. We had barely cleared the steps when she hollered, "Now you get HOME on time tonight, or you'll go to bed without your supper again!"
Mari glanced at me. I was burning to my ears as we hurried to the waiting car. A wet red sunrise was dawning in the winter chill. But, loyal as she was, Mari wouldn't mention what she had just overheard.
I didn't look back as we pulled into early-morning Ohio traffic.
(To Be Continued.)
Mom didn't wake me the next morning. Nor did she tell me how Daddy was. Despite the fact that today was a school day and I had a double dose of detention awaiting me, I walked barefoot and in pajamas down the hall to my parents' room.
Daddy was still in bed, coughing softly under his breath. He was still pale and looked uncomfortable. How much of that was due to me? He turned his head, saw me, and held out a weak hand. I ran to the bed like someone so much younger and jumped onto it.
"Ooff," Daddy protested as I landed in an unelegant sprawl.
"Oh, Daddy - I'm sorry!" I laid my head on his chest, listening to the laboring of his heart. He was less feverish, but still belonged in bed for awhile -
From the foot of the stairs, I heard footsteps, then Mom's hectoring voice, "Merrilee, I don't hear that shower! You're going to be late! Where ARE you?"
I groaned; it was involuntary. Dad laid a hand on my hair. "Go answer her before she snatches us baldheaded," he whispered.
Mom's voice again, "Merrilee -!"
I bit back a bitter retort, crossed the hall to the upstairs bathroom, and turned the shower on full force.
"Marianne called here," Mom yelled up; I could barely hear her over the pound of the water as I stepped in. "She wanted to pick you up for school with her father...I told her yes, she'll be here any minute...young lady, do you HEAR me?"
For answer, I turned off the shower, hastily dried off with a thick towel, and ran into my own room. I kicked the muddy outfit I had worn the night before behind my laundry basket, slipped into a wool skirt and short-sleeved pullover sweater over my underwear, then started to roll up my kneehigh socks.
I heard the downstairs chime oi the doorbell. I got into my loafers and came racing down the stairs, combing my still-wet hair,
"You'll be sick in bed alongside your father," Mom grumbled as I struggled into my hooded storm jacket. She opened the door where Mari waited on the porch. We had barely cleared the steps when she hollered, "Now you get HOME on time tonight, or you'll go to bed without your supper again!"
Mari glanced at me. I was burning to my ears as we hurried to the waiting car. A wet red sunrise was dawning in the winter chill. But, loyal as she was, Mari wouldn't mention what she had just overheard.
I didn't look back as we pulled into early-morning Ohio traffic.
(To Be Continued.)
61-69, F
