The Institute, Daddy Issues(35)

“Will it bother you to hear one, then?” Salt asked quietly.

I thought about it and shook my head.

“No. But read it in Rus­sian first and then trans­late.”

He frowned. “You want to hear in Rus­sian?”

“Yes.” I smiled at him. “I like to hear you speak it. It’s very…strong. Very gut­tural and mas­cu­line. I don’t know…I like the sound of it.”

“Very well.” Salt looked pleased. “Then listen, mishka. I will read to you the story of the Frog Prin­cess.”

“Don’t you mean the Prin­cess and the Frog?” I asked drowsily.

He shook his head. “Is Rus­sian fairy tale, re­mem­ber? Now listen…”

Listen­ing to the sound of his deep bari­tone voice read­ing in his nat­ive lan­guage, I fell asleep …

*

And woke up scream­ing.

I tore my­self from the grip of the night­mare, the scream of ter­ror filling my throat.

The mon­ster! The one with long teeth and sharp claws—it’s com­ing for me! It’s go­ing to get me! No—just a night­mare. Only a bad dream…

I looked around wildly. It was the middle of the night—so black in the room I couldn’t see any­thing. Where was the night­light my daddy al­ways left on for me? Then I re­membered…

It burned out. The bulb burned out and mom never got a new one. She said I was a big girl now, that I didn’t need one.

But I did need a night­light. And I needed my big, strong daddy to com­fort me. To come in and chase away the mon­sters like he al­ways did when I had one of my bad dreams. But he was gone…gone for good…

My screams were re­placed by sobs. I reached for someone—reached for my daddy—but I was all alone in the big room. All alone and no one would ever come to save me again. Mom was prob­ably deep asleep like she al­ways was when she drank her spe­cial medi­cine. She wouldn’t come…no one would come. I was alone. All alone…

I drew my knees up to my chest and sobbed harder. Daddy…Daddy, I miss you so much! Why did you leave me?

Sud­denly feet were pound­ing across the car­peted floor and the door to the bed­room swung open. I saw a big, fa­mil­iar shape sil­hou­et­ted in the door­way, lit from be­hind so his face was in shad­ows. But I knew who it was at once.

“Daddy!” I held out my arms to him and he came to me at once and gathered me close.

“Andi?” His deep voice was un­cer­tain but just hav­ing him near made me feel bet­ter.

“Daddy,” I sobbed, press­ing close to him. “I had a night­mare. I woke up and you weren’t there. I thought…thought you were gone for good.”

“Andi…” For a mo­ment he didn’t seem to know what to do. Then he gathered me into his arms and lif­ted me, cradling me like a baby against his broad, bare chest. He took me to the rock­ing chair and settled into it, still hold­ing me in his lap. Then he began to rock and stroke my hair sooth­ingly. “Is all right, little girl,” he mur­mured. “Is all right.”

“Why did you leave me?” I whispered against his chest. He smelled so good—so spicy and warm and the sound of his heart pound­ing just un­der my ear was won­der­ful. But I still had ques­tions. “What did I do wrong to make you go? Please, tell me,” I begged through my tears. “And I swear I’ll never do it again. I swear.”

“Noth­ing. You did noth­ing. Oh, Andi…” He held me even closer and bent down to press his lips ten­derly to my wet cheeks, kiss­ing my tears away. “I’m so sorry,” he mur­mured. “So sorry you were hurt.”

“You prom­ised not to leave me and then you left any­way,” I said ac­cus­ingly. I gave a little sob. “Prom­ise not to leave me again. Prom­ise.”

“I prom­ise,” he as­sured me, still hold­ing me close. “I will never aban­don you. This I swear, my little mishka.”

Mishka? I frowned. What was that word? My daddy never called me that be­fore. He al­ways called me “sweet­heart” or “pun’kin.” In fact, the only man I knew who had called me that name was…

“Oh my God!” I sat up, the strange dream-state I had some­how fallen into com­pletely shattered.

“Andi…” Salt tried to draw me back down on his lap but I struggled out of his arms.

“Salt? What did you…why did you…?”