Prompt 10: Adrift
“I need lunch money.”
Micah glances up from his computer screen, brow furrowed. This is the first Jenna’s spoken to him since the dinner debacle the night before. How was he supposed to know she was experimenting with vegetarianism?
“You don’t take a tofu sandwich or something?”
Jenna rolls her eyes, purses her lips, and tilts her chin up in the air. Has her father always been this clueless and she never saw it or is it a recent development? “No. There’s a salad bar at school. Also, we’re out of bread.”
“Oh.” Micah has vague memories of bachelor life: late-night grocery runs and a running tab with the pizza joint. He has no idea what kind of food to buy for a fifteen-year-old quasi-vegetarian.
Another eye roll and a huff of impatience. “I’ll make a list when I get home from school. You are going to remember to pick me up today, aren’t you?”
“Good.” Jenna kisses her father’s cheek. “Sorry, Daddy. I just don’t like being…”
“Forgotten.” Micah finishes knowingly. This isn’t just about his ineptitude as a father. It’s about Callie. They’re both adrift, uncertain, and it makes them snippy. “I won't forget you, kiddo.”