Author’s Note: Luna decided to share a bit more. Not really sure why, but she did.
“You haven’t said anything all day.”
“I haven’t?” Luna didn’t think there was anything to say. She didn’t remember her father saying anything, either, not after that last breath, and she didn’t care. No words would turn back time or somehow stop the cancer from killing her mother. She was gone, and she wasn’t coming back. No words, no platitudes, nothing.
She had thought about taking out her sketchbook, doing something to purge these feelings inside her. She couldn’t open it without thinking about her strange friend who ruined books and paintings and refused to be drawn. Dennis wouldn’t be the only one to make the wrong assumption about that guy, not with all the times that she had tried to draw him.
She had even named him.
She felt nauseous, but that was more because they’d been at the hospital and she hadn’t eaten since the ambulance came to take her mother in for her final days. Luna had lost track of how long ago that was. She didn’t feel hungry, though, just sick.
“No, Luna, you haven’t,” her father said, moving toward her. He put his hand on her cheek, shaking his head. “You didn’t put any colors in your hair, and you wore that shirt all week.”
“I did?” She looked down, surprised that he had noticed. Everything had been about her mother lately, and while Luna understood, she had started to feel that she’d have to get cancer to have her father even look at her. Maybe she’d have to be dead.
“You need to rest. You haven’t been sleeping.”
“What do you care?”
“Don’t,” her father warned, pointing a finger at her. “You are all I have, and while I might have been worried about your mother, focused on her comfort, I haven’t ever forgotten about my daughter. You’ve been doing more than anyone to keep us going, and I appreciate it.”
“I don’t want to talk. I don’t want you thanking me. I also don’t need you to pretend you gave a damn about what I was going through. All you cared about was her, and she’s gone, and you can’t replace her with me.”
“I won’t let you bait me. I’m not one of those boys you can push away. I’m your father, and I’m all you have. We can’t give up on each other now.”
She looked at him, nodding, though her whole being resented him for suggesting it. She didn’t want him to be all she had. She didn’t want to go on without her mother, and she didn’t want to talk anymore. “You look tired. Why don’t you go get some rest?”
Her father nodded. “I will. Why don’t you get something to eat or take a shower? You’ll feel better.”
She blinked. “No, Dad, I won’t. You won’t, and I won’t because it will never be the same again, and we’re not going to pretend that it is.”
He put a hand on her shoulder. “We won’t. You need to do something, though. No more sitting around staring at the walls. Paint a picture, read a book, eat, shower, just stop looking like the world has ended.”
“Mine, maybe, because you know your mother was my world, but you’re still young. You have a lot more to look forward to,” he said, caressing her cheek, and she sighed, not sure she could make him understand what she was going through or what her life was really like. He didn’t know her, no one did, and those that came the closest, they didn’t like her much.
She took his hand away. “Go get some sleep. I’m going to take an inventory of the store.”
“What about Dennis? Or that one you’re always drawing? Maybe if one of them came by—”
Her father shook his head, but she knew he was too tired to fight with her. He walked away, and she didn’t stop him. She looked back at the wall and shook her head. No, she wouldn’t do inventory. She was going to sit here and stare for a while longer, maybe even forever.