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“Shhh. It’s going to be okay. I promise. Everything is going to be okay.” He smoothed my hair with his hand, trying to calm me down. “Good Lord, what have they done to you?” I don’t think he was actually looking for an answer. Or maybe he was, but it wasn’t one I could give him right then. All I could do was cry and let myself be soothed.

Ken kissed me on top of my head. “I didn’t think there was much point to my life anymore. I didn’t think there were more enemies to be fought. I guess I was wrong.”

The next morning, I woke up before Ken did. I cracked open his door to check on him, and heard him snoring. It was only seven-thirty, but I thought he would like to wake up to the smell of bacon and coffee. I found the skillet and coffee filters and set to work. It felt nice to be making breakfast to make someone happy as opposed to coaxing a drunk parent out of bed.

“Well, good morning. What a pleasant surprise. Did you sleep well?” Ken asked, as he walked into the kitchen, his robe cinched around flannel pajamas and slippers on his feet.

“I did, thank you. And you?”

“Yes, thank you.”

We ate our breakfast in companionable silence. The bacon was a little overdone, but Ken didn’t seem to mind. His appetite was better.

“So what do you want to do today?” I asked when our plates were empty.

“I was thinking we could start a new book today, if you would like. And at some point there are a couple of errands I need you to run for me.”

“Sure. I’m going to shower real quick, if that’s okay and then tackle the breakfast mess. We can read after that.”

“Of course. The bathroom across the hall from your room is all yours. There are clean towels in the cabinet under the sink. I’ll shower after you’re done.”

“Great.”

While I was braiding my hair, my scars flashed a few times in the mirror, but I did my best to ignore them. I didn’t want to think about them—I didn’t want to remember they were there. Not today.

Maggie sent a text while I was cleaning up the kitchen. “Prom tonight. Not going. I think I’m going to go see Mickey instead. Do you want to hang out tomorrow?”
Mickey, huh? Good for you, Mags.

“Sure. Tell Mickey I say hi. On second thought, don’t. He probably doesn’t have fond memories of me.”

“Lol. I’ll tell him. I’ll give you a shout tomorrow.”

“Cool.”

There were no other missed calls or texts. Not that I expected to hear from Mom this early in the morning. With Dad not due home until sometime early evening, she wouldn’t even make an effort to get out of bed until after three.

Ken still wasn’t out when I was done with the kitchen, so I wandered into the living room. There were so many books. Which one was he going to choose? As if on cue, I heard his voice behind me.

“Have you read anything by Kurt Vonnegut?”

“Uh, I know some of his books have been banned? I’m sorry, I’m not much of a reader.”

“It’s okay. You will be. Get
Slaughterhouse-Five
off the shelf. It’s a quick read. You’ll like it.” We made it through the first chapter before Ken started to doze off.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Maybe so. I guess I didn’t sleep as well as I thought I did.” He tried to smile. “You could go run those errands if you wanted to. I’ll get a little rest.”

“Of course.”

“The list and money are on the table in the entryway. It should be fairly self-explanatory.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Of course. I’m just old, Persephone. It happens.”

“So it goes.” That made him chuckle.

I called James as I pulled out of the driveway. We hadn’t spoken in a few days, and I had no idea how much he knew of what was going on.

“Well, hey there, sweet pea. How are you and the old man gettin’ along?” The sound of his voice made everything feel more solid.

“Oh you know, he’s a pretty tough guy to handle, but I think I’m holding my own.”

“I bet you are.” He chuckled. There were a few moments of silence, and I knew James was giving me the chance to bring it up first.

“So, I guess Ken has probably told you about the job offer.”

“Well yes, him and me discussed it. I thought it was a fine idea. I can’t think of two better people to be takin’ care of each other. Are you all settled in?”

“Yeah, it’s nice. I play the piano, too.”
Apropos of nothing.

“That’s what I heard. I’m sure he likes hearing it again. How’s he doing?”

“Good! Well, I mean, he seems to be tired a lot lately and I can’t get him to eat much, although he did eat a pretty good breakfast. But he’s doing really good. We started a new book today. And James, I promise I won’t be any trouble for him. I promise.”

“I know you won’t, sweet pea. You two need each other, and nothing more needs to be said about it, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Alright. Well you take care, and give me a holler if you need anything. We’ll talk again soon.”

“Sounds good. Bye, James.”

“Bye now.”

Ken needed shaving cream and aspirin from the drug store and a list of books picked up from Barnes & Noble. There was a Stephen King book about the assassination of JFK that looked interesting. I bought a latte and sat down in the little café to read a few pages before heading back. It was as weird as it was relaxing. I wasn’t escaping. I wasn’t trying to distract myself. I wasn’t anything except being. It wasn’t until I pulled into the driveway I realized not only had I not thought about cutting, I also hadn’t smoked in two days.
Watch it kid, you might be getting happy.
That made me smile.

The rest of the weekend was lazy and uneventful. We made it through half of
Slaughterhouse-Five
, and Ken promised we would start on the Stephen King book next, as long as I promised not to read any more first. Maggie and I hung out at our favorite coffee shop while she told me all about her evening with Mickey and his dad. She hinted there was a chance of them getting back together, even though Mickey would be staying in Springfield for college and she would be three hours away. Ken taught me a game called Shut the Box. It was kind of mindless but fun. We played for pennies.

My phone didn’t ring. I was surprised, but mostly relieved. Maybe, just maybe.

Monday morning dawned clear and bright. Three days of school left. Graduation on Saturday afternoon. I sailed through my finals and even chatted with a few classmates. Like, engaged in genuine small talk about the prom. I may have even seemed interested, without a hint of sarcasm. There were a few times I was tempted to sneak into the bathroom, look in the mirror and make sure it was really me looking back.

Maggie and I met at the front door after the last bell. “Hey, killer. Don’t you look like the cat that ate the canary? Did you make a cheerleader cry or something?”

“I’m allowed to just be in a good mood, right?”

“Sure. Of course you’re allowed. But are you capable? Hey, I’m just kidding! It’s good to see you smile! Did you get your Project Graduation ticket yet?”

I patted my purse. “Right here, baby. All purchased and ready for a night of frivolity and shallow fun with a group of people I hope never to see again in my life. If you ask me, fifteen dollars well spent.”

“Smartass. Well, hey, I’m running over to Mick’s for a while. I figured you would be over at Ken’s. Want to try to do something tomorrow?” I fought down the urge to tell her I wanted to do something today or not at all. It was petty and spiteful—two things I was trying very hard to get rid of.

“Yeah, great. Have fun with Mickey!” I waved as she veered off in the other direction towards her car.

On the way home, I thought about the Alfredo sauce recipe I had found online during class earlier. I was anxious to try it out and hoped Ken was up for pasta. I was pretty sure there was a box of frozen cheese bread I could make to go with it. Maybe I would run to the store and get a pie or something for dessert. Maybe the Mrs Smith’s Reese’s Peanut Butter pie. That would make him happy.

These were the thoughts running through my head when I turned onto Ken’s street. When I saw my father’s car sitting in his driveway, my stomach twisted in on itself. I gagged, feeling the bagel and cream cheese fighting its way out. I barely got the car slowed and the door open before it tumbled out of my mouth and splashed onto the street. What was he doing here? How had he found me? I knew the answer almost before the question had formed in my head. Fucking phone tracker.

There was nowhere left to run. There was no safe place. I was out of options. He had taken everything from me. Pure hatred and rage caused my cheeks to flame. I could feel the heat of it in every pore. I wanted to scream. I wanted to beat someone. I wanted blood. I wanted to stop feeling like my body and mind were exploding and shrinking at the same time. I wanted anything but to go inside, but it was my only option.

The front door was unlocked, which was good. I didn’t think I could focus enough to get my key in the hole. I stood on the threshold, not sure what to do next. I could hear the murmuring of voices in the living room. What was he saying? What was he telling Ken about me?

“Persephone, I assume that’s you. Please come in here.” Ken’s voice drew me in. My natural instinct was to obey.

Dad was sitting in my chair (
asshole, that doesn’t belong to you. That’s mine)
, arms resting on his knees, leaning forward. Whatever the discussion was, it was obviously intense. I hovered on the edge of the living room.

“Your dad was just telling me a few things about you, Persephone. Things he thought I should know. Perhaps you should repeat them for your daughter, Mr Daniels.” Ken’s face was grim. I leaned against the wall and stared at the floor, ashamed and embarrassed. I couldn’t face him. I knew whatever my dad had told him, it was something to make Ken not want me anymore. Something that would make sure I went back home. I almost turned around to go get my bags from my room.

“Well, Persephone, since you spend so much time here, I thought this nice gentleman should know what kind of person you are exactly. For instance, I have noticed lately that some of my Xanax have gone missing.” He turned to Ken. “I have a slight anxiety issue. The stress of work and having a teenager in this day and age. I rarely take them. As a matter of fact, I prefer to leave the bottle at home when I travel and only take a few with me. When I left for this trip there were fifteen in the bottle. Now there are only six. Do you have any prescriptions in the house? Have you checked them lately?”

Ken shook his head. I could feel the tears burning in the rims of my eyes. I had never touched his pills, but why would Ken believe that? Why would anyone believe me over a grown man? Over my father?

“She is also an adroit liar, aren’t you, Persephone?”

I nodded. What was the point in not being truthful now?

“You should hear some of the stories she makes up. I worry sometimes her only options for a career are criminal or writer. Neither of which are exactly promising, wouldn’t you agree?” Dad gave Ken the we’re-in-this-together-wink. “So I think it would be best if Persephone went and got her things, so I can take her home. Her mom and I will come back and get her car tomorrow.”

Why did my own father hate me so much? He was supposed to love and cherish me. Treat me like a princess and walk me down the aisle. Daddies are supposed to protect their little girls. Nothing in my brain could make it okay.

Ken gripped the arms of his recliner and sat up straight.

“Mr Daniels, I appreciate you taking the time to tell me all of this. If I had known you felt like this, Persephone and I would have had a much different conversation before she came to stay here.” Dad leaned back in his chair, satisfied. His toy would be home by dinner.

“I will go get my stuff.”

“No, Persephone, you will stand here and listen to what I have to say. And you will pick your head up.” When I looked at him, Ken had a single tear running down his cheek. Oh god, I had hurt him. He’d trusted me, taken care of me, and I broke his heart. Everything was numb.

“Now let me tell you what I know about Persephone. I know that three months ago she had no plans for her future and no hope of having one. I know she felt alone and scared. I know she was rude and defeated. I know she has now taken it upon herself to only get accepted to college but also secure the funding she needs to go to that college. I know Persephone is beginning to see that life does still hold some joy. And she knows she is no longer alone.

“What I also know, Mr Daniels, is that while you may be her father I will not let you destroy everything Persephone has built for herself. With all due respect, which I expect is very little, I must insist you leave my home immediately. And you will be leaving without Persephone. She is staying here.”

The anger emanating from both men was palpable. It was crushing me. Dad stood, his bottom lip disappearing, the explosion imminent.

“Listen, you son of a bitch, I don’t care who the hell you think you are or what you think you know, but that is
my
daughter. I—”

Ken sprang from his chair and crossed the room in two steps. He was at least three inches taller than my father, and in that moment I could see the young man Ken once was. The Marine he would always be.

“You will do nothing but leave this house. Persephone is not the only person in this room I know. I know you, too. I know more about you than I ever wanted to. You may have the two women in your life terrified of you, but you don’t scare me. I may be old, but I can still handle a piece of garbage like you. I am a United States Marine, sir, and I will kick your ass. Now get the hell out of here.” The last sentence was punctuated with a forceful poke to Dad’s chest.

“I will leave because she isn’t worth all of this. You can keep her.” On his way out, he paused and whispered, “You will come home, Persephone. You’re my little girl.” When I heard the door slam, I crumpled to the floor and Ken sank into his chair.

“Persephone, are you okay?” I nodded and realized he couldn’t see me. I couldn’t get my mouth to work, though. “Persephone?” I managed to crawl around the corner to the front of his chair. I laid my head on his knee and felt him pat the top of my head. His hand rested there.