Chapter 7 Town
1098 Words
Abby's POV
I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling after this morning’s scare. It drilled into me the very real danger we were in. I hated that my parents were so vague about what exactly we needed to be watching for. Was it a boogeyman? A thing? Did it walk? Fly? Would it come from the water, out from the ground? What exactly was I supposed to be looking for? Mom has always been carefree—her motto is 'don’t worry about it until there’s something to worry about'—and today, she was in full shopping mode. We needed new batteries for the solar panel, groceries, roofing material, and furniture.
While at the hardware store, Dad called to let us know he had found a truck, and they threw in a trailer so we wouldn’t have to arrange a delivery for the roofing supplies. We could also pick up the furniture ourselves the next day. Honestly, this was a huge relief—if we could get Mom out of shopping mode. As we were ringing up the materials, Dad walked in beaming, his grin wide enough to make the Cheshire Cat jealous. I already knew he couldn't wait to show off his new toy, and from the looks of it, he was certain Mom would approve. He told the cashier the truck and trailer were already in the loading dock and practically dragged Mom outside.
Stepping out, we were greeted by a sleek, midnight-blue GMC Sierra. Dad proudly clicked the key fob, unlocking the doors. Mom's face lit up with a huge smile as she eagerly ran over to the truck. Then, Dad pressed another button, and the engine purred to life. He tapped yet another button with a snowflake symbol, and Mom gave him a questioning look.
"It comes with a butt cooler, so you can cool your ass down," Dad announced with a smirk.
Mom turned beet red. "Duane, I swear!"
Dad and I burst into laughter as she smacked his arm.
So far, we were making great time. Roofing supplies? Check. Batteries? Check. Truck and trailer? Check. And it was only 10 a.m. If we could get through the furniture store by noon and groceries by one, we might actually enjoy a hot dinner and shower tonight. The thought was so enticing that I kicked into rush mode.
When we got to the furniture store, I suggested a mattress, box spring, and a simple metal frame. Practical. Compact. Easy to move. But as soon as the words left my mouth, Mom’s nose scrunched in pure horror.
"Absolutely not! We need a proper set, not just a bed! Ugh, I swear, you and your father with your simple, minimalist ideals. No daughter of mine is going to sleep on a plain-Jane mattress. We are getting a full bedroom set! Now help me pick one out and stop rushing me!"
I sighed. "Okay, Mom, but nothing too fancy. We’ll be traveling again soon."
Which was my polite way of saying: We're blowing this popsicle stand the second it’s safe, and spending time in a furniture store is an absolute waste.
After what felt like a lifetime, we finally settled on a cherry wood sleigh bed with matching nightstands and a dresser. Our sales assistant, Todd, was an absolute pro at reading the situation—Mom’s enthusiasm, Dad’s impatience, and my desperation to get out of there. Sensing our urgency, he whisked us over to the living room sets and, before I could even protest, found the perfect match. It was a dusty-blue faux suede with wood accents that perfectly matched the cherry bedroom set. Mom fell in love instantly. I couldn’t have cared less if he’d led us to a pile of folding chairs.
Todd rang us up, and we arranged to pick up everything tomorrow. Now, just groceries and then home. Dad, ever the strategic negotiator, struck a deal with Mom: if she only grabbed the necessities and dinner for tonight, he’d drop her off at the grocery store tomorrow to shop to her heart’s content while he and I picked up the furniture and set it up.
I smirked to myself as Mom agreed. Dad knew her too well. After all these years, she still hadn’t realized that he and I absolutely despised shopping.
Burnt stirred in my mind. She had been quiet for most of the shopping trip, which was unusual. I decided it was time to get to the bottom of her weirdness.
"It’s on a need-to-know basis. When you need to know, I’ll tell you. Until then, deal with it," Burnt snapped before blocking me out.
A growl of frustration slipped past my lips, making both of my parents snap their heads toward me.
"Sorry, just Burnt. She’s being—" I paused, searching for the right word. "Difficult. And vague."
Dad smirked. "Is she ever not?"
Mom smacked his shoulder. "Be nice! I’m sure your wolf isn’t always sunshine and rainbows. In fact, I know how rude Will can be."
I shook my head. "No, you don’t get it. I feel like she’s keeping things from me. Actually, I feel like you’re all keeping things from me."
They exchanged a glance, and their eyes glazed over. Mind-linking. Again. Discussing things right in front of me like I wasn’t even there. My chest tightened as I felt the sting of tears, my throat clenching at the realization. They weren’t telling me something.
Mom turned back to me, her expression soft. "Honey, why the tears?"
"Mom, just stop. I’m not five. I know you’re keeping things from me, and I don’t understand why."
She sighed. "Abs, we’re not keeping things from you. We’re just trying to keep you safe."
A sob broke free before I could stop it. "It feels like I’m blindfolded and being led into battle. I don’t even know what I’m looking for or how to protect myself. Burnt and you are both more worried about keeping secrets than actually telling me how to be safe. What do I need to be careful of? How am I supposed to protect myself if I don’t even know what the danger is?"
Dad slapped the armrest. "Enough! When there’s something you need to know, you will know. Right now, you’re being dramatic. There’s nothing we are hiding."
I stared at him, my gut twisting. He had repeated almost verbatim what Burnt had said earlier.
I turned to glare out the window as Dad cranked up the radio. The music drowned out my thoughts, but the tears still fell steadily down my cheeks.
- Writer
