She doesn’t touch the stuff, and Chris left hours ago for work. She must’ve made a fresh pot just for me. After I’ve doused my serving with a substantial amount of flavored creamer, I take a seat at our little breakfast table and enjoy the piping hot brew.
“You’re just in time. Breakfast is served!” She places a huge plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs and crisp bacon in front of me.
My eyes grow wide at the mountain of food staring back at me. “Wow. This is great, but you know you didn’t have to do this. I could have just had a bowl of cereal. Besides, won’t you be late for your class?”
“I’m not going today. I got someone to fill in for me,” she says proudly. “I thought we could chat. Catch up. I feel like we hardly get a chance to talk anymore.”
I take the opportunity to drown my food in maple syrup before answering my mom. “I know. Just been really busy, you know. But once I graduate, I should have a little more free time.”
“Really? Even with the new job? Running a store is a pretty big responsibility. Very time consuming, I’d assume.” Donna digs into her bowl of yogurt and fresh berries.
“Yeah, but I’ll have help. I plan to choose a reliable staff that will be able to handle things efficiently even when I’m not there.” Too bad Allison, the inappropriately flirtatious sales slore, won’t be included in that bunch.
“Sounds like you’ve put some thought into this. I’m proud of you. I didn’t know you were interested in fashion. I mean, you’ve been working at the mall, but I thought you hated retail.”
I munch my syrup-dipped bacon and shake my head. “I don’t exactly hate it. I just don’t particularly like hounding people to buy stuff. I hope to make it a comfortable experience for both the buyer and the seller. People are more likely to spend money when they feel at ease and welcomed. No one wants a pushy shadow following them around while they shop for undergarments,” I chuckle.
Donna gives me a weak grin, though I can tell it’s forced. “What?” I ask with a furrowed brow.
“Oh, nothing,” she shrugs. “I just always flinch a bit when I hear the word ‘shadow,’” she explains.
Of course, the Shadow. The organization of the Dark implemented to uphold their laws. And execute their punishments. My father, Alexander, was a decorated member of the Shadow. And when he broke their most sacred cardinal rule, he was put to death at the hands of his beloved brotherhood.
“Did he try to fight them? Alexander? When they took him?” I ask meekly.
“I don’t think he did,” Donna says shaking her head. “He knew it would just be worse for your mother. He didn’t want her to get involved and fight on his behalf. He wouldn’t risk either of your lives.” Donna looks up and gives me a warm, comforting grin. “He really did love you. I remember how excited he was when he learned that he would have a daughter. You are like him in a lot of ways.”
My face instantly brightens with the thought that I could resemble my father, the skilled, cunning tracker that fell deeply in love with my mother, his mortal enemy. “How so?”
“You’re brave like him. I mean, Natalia was incredibly brave, but he had this silent courage about him. You never really saw him ruffled. He didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, you could say. Natalia was quick to react. Alexander was calculated, always in control.”
Calculated. Controlled. I don’t think I’ve ever considered myself as either of those. Maybe Donna sees something in me that I don’t remotely recognize in myself. But I have seen those traits. In Dorian. He is always so measured. Cool, calm, and collected.
“Really? Humph. How else?” Now I’m intrigued.
“Your love for your friends and family. You are protective like him. You don’t want people to be hurt or uncomfortable. He was like that. He always wanted to take away your mother’s anxiety when things got difficult. He hated seeing her so distressed.”
I could see that. I do feel the need to protect my loved ones. But who wouldn’t? I am reminded of the time when I had the meltdown in front of the Italian restaurant downtown. How Dorian took away my stress and pain. He was so caring, so loving. He fixed me. He protected me from myself.
“Believe it or not, you have his sense of humor!” Donna continues. “Unless you knew Alex, you couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He was wickedly sarcastic. I found him hilarious, and you wouldn’t expect that from someone like him.” I can tell this trip down memory lane has put her in good spirits. I smile at my mom brightly, encouraging her to keep going. “And he loved music. He had the most beautiful voice too. Would sing to Nat’s belly, to his baby girl, every night.”