Finding Her Time

“Dad, I’m home,” Claire called through the house. Piccolo happily pranced into the front hall to accept some love from his owner. She felt sorry for kicking him earlier that morning when she was rushing out of the door so she scooped him up in her arms and sat down with him on the floor.

As Claire rubbed his chin, he purred happily. “If it weren’t for you always getting in the way, I’d have been out of the house before Dad knew I was running late for school. You should feel pretty lucky for being a cutie and getting away with everything,” Claire whispered to the cat. He grinned.

A rather odd smell caught Claire’s attention a few moments later. She set the cat down and sniffed the air hesitantly. It wasn’t a bad smell, she realized, it smelled appetizing. The aroma’s coming from the kitchen made her mouth water. It was so uncharacteristic to her considering that she was so used to burning everything in the kitchen. She ran over to investigate.

“Dad?” Claire watched as her father, adorned in a flowery apron was chopping carrots for a salad. He was whistling and appeared to be quite at peace in the kitchen. The aroma she smelled earlier was lasagna that was happily cooking away in the oven.

“Hey, sweetie,” Mr. Silver looked up at her and smiled, “How was school?”

“A drag,” Claire said in the way of most teenagers, “You didn’t tell me you could cook.”
Her father put the freshly cut carrots in salad bowl, “Now you know. I decided to give you a break from burning chicken legs. I’m making dinner tonight. You can do homework or whatever else.”

And I thought I was going to get punished when I got home, Claire thought happily as she headed towards the living room. Her dad didn’t make any other comments while he fixed dinner. Claire willingly finished all her homework and started on some research for her new Chemistry project. Feeling proud of herself for finishing her homework early, Claire didn’t feel guilty about asking her dad where he had put her Jane Eyre.

He looked grim, “I don’t have it.”

Claire stood in the doorway of the kitchen, “What do you mean you don’t have it?”

“I mean I’ve taken all your books and BBC movies and stored them away until further notice,” he replied.

Claire’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious.”

Taking down some plates from the cupboard, her father turned his back to Claire. “I’m very serious,” he answered. “After you left for school this morning, I realized that we do not spend enough time together as a family because I’m always in my lab and you’re always reading your books. I’ve also realized that our obsessions are not healthy for either of us. At the present, I’m only going to be working in my study while you’re at school, and you are not going to be getting those books back until you can sort your priorities out. You have my permission to try new hobbies, hang with friends, and do everything that you usually do, except reading your books.”

Not listening to anything that her father said, Claire stomped her feet, aggravated. She spoke between her teeth and pronouncing each word harshly, “WHERE…ARE…MY…BOOKS??!!”

“Do not talk to me like that, young lady. Keep in mind that I am your father, and you will not be disrespectful. I give you leave to be as upset as you would like, but I’m not giving you your books back until I feel that I can trust you with them. They are safe where they are now,” he finished.

Claire was seething in the corner. It’s not like she was addicted to watching television or playing on the computer all the time. She liked reading books, and she was always told that reading was a good, healthy way to pass your time. So why was her father taking away her books?

“It’s dinner time,” Mr. Silver interrupted his daughter’s self-pity party, “Why don’t you go clean-up before we eat?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied in an icy tone, “By the way, I’m going to Mitch’s house after dinner. We’re watching Mel Brooks’ movies…again.”

Mr. Silver didn’t reply as Claire rushed to her bedroom to change into a t-shirt and jeans. As she entered her room, she was carefully avoided looking at the bare shelves where her precious books used to be.

As she was returning back to the kitchen, Claire wondered to herself if she should express her anger at her dad by leaving before dinner so that he’d have to eat by himself. That plan evaporated when Claire’s stomach gave off a rather huge hungry growl. She retreated to the kitchen and sat down at the table. She lost the battle this time.