Ever Since You Walked Into My Life

Norman took the next exit on the highway. They were almost home. Signs became more recognizable. The area more and more familiar. He flicked his cigarette butt out the window before taking a look over at the girls. They were asleep. Heavy lids swollen and red from excessive crying. He tried his best at comforting them. But he knew the pain of losing a parent. It's something they would have to work out on their own.

All he could do was promise to be there for them during their time of grieving. Rascal tried to force a smile now and again. But Norman knew, deep down, she had fallen into the endless well of sorrow she'd grown to know before him. He wanted to pull her out. Send down the rope and lift her to the top. Pull her into a hug, caress her back, her shoulders, kiss her lips. Tell her everything would be okay.

Norman sighed into the cab of the truck. It had been a long, painful day for everyone, including him. It wasn't that the death of Sheila wasn't heart breaking, but seeing the girls so upset did a number on him. He wasn't sure how he could hold it together himself just at the sound of their choking sobs. Sammi cried like no other, but Rascal was worse off. She didn't break down and cry. She was silent, few tears making a trail down her cheeks.

He fought with Rascal the other day. He understood how she felt. So he didn't take her snappy tone and curt remarks to heart. She was upset and hell, he would be too if he was losing his mother to old age and sickness. He was going to cancel his trip to Georgia to shoot for the Walking Dead. But she insisted. Threw it in his face that he had to go. She needed to be alone. So he agreed and with that, came part two of his plan.

He just hoped it helped the outcome he was hoping for.

Norman stood still, admired the art work that coated his far wall near the kitchen. His painting was finally complete. A masterpiece all in its own. The deep, natural colours blended well with each other, a vibrant red illuminating the portrait in places. He couldn't wait to show Rascal. It was, afterall, for her. His lips curled into a smile. Cigarette in the far corner of his lips pulling up with them. He'd cover it. Wait until the right time.

He had peeked in on Rascal and Sammi nearly an hour ago. They were both asleep. Stuck in a deep slumber that hopefully brought them good dreams. It was quickly agreed that Sammi would stay home from school. At least for a day or two. Mingus was due home from school grounds within the hour. He knew better than to wake the girls. He knew the story and didn't argue further when Norman told him to stay out of it.

Norman flicked his ashes in an old paint can before working to cover his painting up with the white sheet. When it was fully covered, he noted the large, thick black letters that read no peeking. He gave a quiet chuckle, stole the last drag of his smoke and tossed it away into the can. This was only the beginning of surprises for Rascal. He couldn't wait to show her, but he was more excited about what was to come next.

Norman reached a hand into his front pocket for his cell phone. Made his way toward the patio doors. He closed it quietly behind him, afraid that even the slightest noise would wake the girls inside. He lit another cigarette, the chain smoking due to unknown stress, and dialed up that familiar number he had stored away. He leaned against the railing, eyes casting along the old, beat up Chevelle in his driveway.

"Mike's Auto Repairs and Custom Design," the familiar southern twang met Norman's ears.

He smiled, blew a few smoke rings before saying, "What's up, Mike? It's Norman,"

"Well god damn. Haven't seen you in a while," Mike's deep, raspy laughter made Norman chuckle.

He nodded, as if Mike could see him, "Yeah, I know man. I'm actually gonna be in Georgia this weekend. Doing some shooting. But I was wondering, if you're not too busy, if you could do me a big favour,"

"What would that be?" Mike asked.

Norman took a large inhale, eyed down the rusty metal in the driveway. He exhaled loudly, flicked his half smoked cigarette to the driveway below. He turned, leaned his back against the railing and asked, "You like old cars, right?"