Eleanor
Sunday evening came too soon, and it was time to leave. I was getting ready in my room, packing in my backpack when I heard a knock on my open door.
“Hey, sweet pea.” It was Dad, and I knew that even before I turned to face him. He surely was the only one that called me that.
“Hey Dad,” I smiled when I turned to him.
“How are you? Are you sure you're feeling better now?” he asked and I nodded.
“Yes, Dad,” I said with a small smile, sitting on the edge of the bed. I beat the space beside me and Dad walked there to sit.
He pulled me into a side hug so that I was now pressing my head against his shoulder.
“I could tell Nathan you can't come into work for a week if you don't feel up to it, you know.” Dad said and I almost rolled my eyes, as if he had that control.
With a
