#the hacketeers

She had struggled to find things to do while avoiding sleep. She had started the night reading a new book, but had found the many pages of world-building prologue discombobulating and the main characters less than compelling. The dialogue was janky and unnatural, the character’s motivations made no sense, and once a novel started delving into the economic minutia of its fictional world, she pretty much checked out entirely. After abandoning her novel, she decided to fold all her laundry; a massive undertaking for any eighteen-year-old. Having found the task took her next to no time at all, she proceeded to organize all her clothes by color. The yellow pile was the biggest. She organized her books alphabetically, she painted her nails, she tried to write in her journal and then thought better of it.

Around five she had decided she had done quite enough lollygagging and it was officially a socially acceptable hour to begin a new day. If anyone asked why she had woken up so early, she’d just say she wanted to make everyone some coffee. And she truly did, even if it was mostly an excuse. She was not a fan of the bitter bean juice herself, but she did like the expression on her father’s face when she handed him a fresh cuppa’ joe. Comforted. At peace. Rare states of being for any of them these days.

And Lord knows her uncle was certainly going to need it. She had heard Travis bumble into the house around one that morning. It’s funny how people make the most noise when they’re trying very hard to be quiet. Old Hackett House was large and airy, and it was obvious that acoustics were not a consideration drawn into its architecture. The second-floor balcony overlooked the main foyer, and Kaylee could clearly hear from her room the rattling of keys in the grand front door, followed by those same keys immediately clattering onto the hardwood, and a very soft “Shhhhit”. She took no small pleasure in listening to him abandon his heavy work boots with a muted thud and attempt to climb the rickety grand staircase, pausing his careful ascension every time a floorboard creaked. Which was often.  

He was very obviously soused, and of course had every right to be. Yesterday had been his birthday, and her father and uncle had gone into town to uphold their “Birthday Beers” tradition. Kaylee felt a little bit sorry for her uncle Travis, knowing that he would not have much longer to sleep, and would likely wake up with a raging hangover. Her Gammy woke up every single morning at six-thirty, like clockwork, and she expected the rest of the household to follow suit, no doubt finding it a bit difficult to boss people around while they’re asleep. Not impossible though.

Kaylee tiptoed down the hallway, path illuminated by the soft glow of dawn seeping in through the large windows of the foyer. She was careful to avoid the floorboards she knew to be creaky, and successfully made her way to the bathroom to wash her face and otherwise prepare herself for the day at hand. While she knew she would not be able to convince a soul alive that she was “bright-eyed and bushy-tailed”, she was at least grateful she didn’t look nearly as tired as she felt. She wondered whether that could be attributed to her mamma’s good genes or if it was a result of her condition.

She had difficulty connecting the girl she saw in the mirror with the idea of being a werewolf. Werewolves in media were always strong and sexy. They’d have big canines or some kind of animal magnetism, always some small clue hinting toward their hidden nature, even in human form. She hated to admit it, but she was a little disappointed she didn’t get any kind of supernatural glow-up. Kaylee thought she just looked like the same ol’ Kaylee. Big brown eyes, round apple cheeks, her momma’s upturned nose. She guessed it was a good thing she still looked normal and laughed internally about how all those writers could have gotten it so, so wrong. She told herself she would write a novel about all this one day, and no one would ever guess it was nonfiction.  

She descended the stairs with considerably more grace than her oldest uncle had just a few hours before. Once on the ground level she had little need for sneaking, being much less likely to wake anyone as long as she didn’t start banging pots and pans together. She made her way through the parlor room, the drawing room, the dining room (one of three total), and finally into the kitchen. Hackett House was a labyrinth of rooms for which the style and function had become obsolete quite some time ago. To say it was a grand old mansion would be an understatement, as well as completely inaccurate. It may have started out as a mansion when the oldest and most central segment of the house had been constructed during the height of the Industrial Revolution, already big enough to be home to a workforce of up to twelve servants, including a head butler, maids, and kitchen staff. All waiting hand and foot on the Hackett’s, catering to their every need and whim. Over the next century or more, with only a modest break during the Civil War, her ancestors had commissioned so many additions onto the already stately musculature of the house, it bordered on absurdity.

The best example of this excess was the solarium, a late Victorian era addition, which reminded one of a colossal wrought iron bird cage walled in by sheet glass windowpanes, imported all the way from Pittsburgh. Essentially a gigantic greenhouse where stuffy rich people would sit and enjoy nature, without actually having to be in nature. When Kaylee was little, she would set up a small table right in the center of the solarium and surround it with all her favorite stuffed animals. She’d call herself Lady Kaylee and pretend she was some sort of grand duchess, treating all her fancy friends to afternoon tea. Before she had a chance to grow out of that particular phase, her teatime soirees had to come to an end. One of the glass panes had fallen out of place in the night and shattered right on top of her little table, dusting the area in broken glass, fine as sand. The family couldn’t afford to fix the missing pane and had declared the solarium unfit for habitation, and absolutely off limits to children, for fear of a repeated incident.  

Admittedly, most of Hackett House was in a similar state of disrepair. Plaster walls cracked and flaking off in great chunks, revealing the stale laths beneath. Places where the floor undulated as the foundations settled over the years. Water damage to the roof that absolutely no one wanted to acknowledge. Kaylee’s ancestors had not seemed to take into consideration the upkeep of such a large property. Or perhaps they had just assumed the family would always be wealthy well-to-do’s. The end of prohibition had hit them hard, as did the depression. Over the years, the Hackett’s had become accustomed to a more rugged way of living inside their extravagant shell of a home. Microwaved meals on fine China. Kerosine lamps illuminating gilded oil portraits of Hackett’s past. Plumbing that groaned and squealed and spit out brown water but ran clear after a minute or so. The Hackett’s wore the contradiction of their name and lifestyle like a badge of honor. After all, what doesn’t kill you, will make you stronger.    

Kaylee traversed the wide old kitchen, bare feet sticking slightly as she padded across the linoleum. She started some coffee in their cheap standard twelve-cup drip, knowing she’d probably end up making at least two more pots before the morning was over. Her uncle Bobby could drink a whole pot on his own, no assistance needed. The smell of coffee grinds wafted throughout the kitchen, and likely the whole damn house, bold and slightly burnt. She may not have liked the taste of coffee, but something about the smell soothed and reenergized her all at once. For Kaylee, it brought to mind all the good brown things of the earth. Dark loamy soil, rich chocolate, warm wood in the sunshine.  

The smell instantly made her hungry, but she knew better than to start eating too soon. Her Gammy was cooking up a huge family breakfast this morning- a task she was fully expecting to be roped into- and would be very upset if she spoiled her meal. Instead, Kaylee elected to fix herself a cup of tea, sparking the gas range to life beneath her Gammy’s vintage Chantal tea kettle. The sight of the flickering blue flames brought an uneasy feeling to the pit of her stomach. She turned her attention outside the picture window above the sink while she waited for her water to boil. She watched the robins in the yard pluck great plump earthworms from the soil. Swarms of little gnats reflected the first small rays of sunshine off their tiny wings. The dog days of summer were officially upon North Kill County, and Kaylee could already tell today would be hot and hazy.

She killed the gas just as her kettle reached the verge of whistling, the noise being far too shrill for her sensitive ears. Another symptom of her condition. Warm mug in hand, she retreated to the covered porch, carefully slipping through the front door, quiet as a mouse. She took in a deep breath of the fresh air, golden with sunlight and thick with humidity. Like inhaling honey. Kaylee Hackett had always been a morning person. Or rather, she liked waking up with the rising sun, which in July just happened to be very, very early. It made her feel special, like she was the first person awake in the whole world, the image of the rising sun belonging to her, and her alone. She sat on the porch swing, a double wide hanging bench, its peeling white paint gently scratching at the backs of her bare legs. She didn’t mind it.

She nursed the warm mug of tea in both hands, close to the center of her chest, warming her very heart. Like a good hug. She listened to the birds twittering their sun salutation, which had not yet reached its full cacophonous potential. She watched fat, dopey bumblebees collide with the daylilies bordering the front steps, still half asleep and eager for their breakfast. Kaylee took several cautious sips of her hot tea, bergamot and lemon. She rested the mug in her lap and let her head loll backward, staring up at the porch ceiling. It was painted a shade similar to mint, that her Pappy called “haint blue”. It was supposed to ward off evil spirits by mimicking the color of running water. It didn’t work.

Kaylee closed her eyes and heaved a deep, bereft sigh, as she gently rocked herself on the swing. She watched shapes and shadows chase each other across her closed eyelids, dancing in time with the music of morning. As the sun rose, rays of light slowly crept up the porch steps, the colors behind her eyes shifting from soft gray blue to warm yellow as they reached her face. Kaylee could hear some small critter rustling in the nearby brush, probably a rabbit. She pictured it in her mind’s eye, hopping across last year’s dead leaves, little nose twitching as it munched on dandelion greens. Kaylee figured it must have been awful hungry this morning, it began to make such a racket, the soft crunching sounds slowly morphing into a loud and consistent crackle. The sunlight on her face started to grow hot, color shifting from yellow to blazing orange as the crackling grew louder. A gust of hot wind suddenly thickened the air, making it hard to breathe.

Sweat began to bead on her forehead. Where was Caleb? The flames rose high, reaching even above the treetops, orange devil tongues licking at the inky night sky. The crackle and hiss of burning wood was deafening, each pop going off like a gunshot in her ears. The thick black smoke made her eyes water, and the smell of the melting plastic tents made her dizzy and nauseous. In the distance, a woman screamed and the wind roared through the trees in response. “Kaylee…” she could hear someone call her name. Caleb? He was supposed to meet her at the tree line, but he wasn’t there. She couldn’t find him. People were shouting. And screaming. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this, this wasn’t meant to happen, she only wanted to help, she didn’t mean to-

“Kaylee!” her grandmother, Constance, barked her name from the open front door. Kaylee awoke with a gasp and stared at her Gammy with wide eyes. “Girl what in the hell are you doing out here? I been lookin’ all over for you.”

Kaylee stared at her for a moment longer before rubbing at her eyes with the heel of one hand, the other still miraculously occupied by her tea mug.  

Constance looked at her granddaughter sideways, trying to get a better view of her face. “Kaylee-girl, are you okay sweetheart?”

“Yes ma’am,” Kaylee laughed, if only to cover the sound of the sob threatening to crawl up her throat. “Sorry Gammy, I guess I fell asleep,” she stood up and quickly slipped into the house, her grandmother holding the door wide open for her. She was immediately grateful for the rush of cool air that kissed her face upon entering the foyer. “I made everyone coffee,” she put on a brave smile. Her own mug of tea was now cold and lifeless in her hands. She wondered how long she had been outside.

Her grandmother placed a gentle hand on her back and lead her toward the kitchen, “Oh I did see that,” she ran a hand through Kaylee’s hair and tucked an errant strand behind her ear. “My sweet girl,” she cooed affectionately.

Kaylee had evidently nodded off long enough for at least half the household to already be up and moving about. Her Pappy sat at the dining table, North Kill Gazette in one hand and steaming mug of coffee in another. “Mornin’ Pappy,” she said, kissing him on the cheek as she passed.

He responded with a simple, “Hey kid,” barely looking up from his paper. He was absorbed in some article that Kaylee could tell at a glance had something to do with hunting. Not much else happened in North Kill, other than the comings and goings of campers, hikers, and hunters. Not since the fire, anyway. No news was good news as far was her family was concerned. Outsiders had no clue what was going on in the Hackett household, and they all tried very hard to keep it that way.

Kaylee followed her Gammy into the kitchen and promptly washed her cold tea down the sink. It just wasn’t the same reheated. Constance hunched down with a grunt and rummaged in a low cabinet, fishing out whatever pots and pans she needed and all but chucking them onto the countertop above, each clang louder than the last. Her uncle Bobby was at the coffee pot, helping himself to what seemed to be at least his second cup. He liked to add so much cream and sugar to his coffee, it was practically a hot milkshake by the time he was done with it. “Hey squirt,” he said, placing one gigantic hand on the top of Kaylee’s head, ruffling her hair and he turned to join his father in the dining room, dessert beverage in hand.

“Knock it off!” Kaylee scrunched up her face at the brusque contact, “You better save some coffee for Uncle Travis!” She added, “He’s gonna need it after last night.”  

Constance immediately ceased her clattering and abruptly turned to Kaylee, “What do you mean? Did he wake you up last night? I told that boy if he’s gonna come in late he better do it quiet, or not come home at all.”

Kaylee realized her mistake, “No Gammy, no, not at all,” she reassured quickly, not wanting to get her uncle into any sort of trouble. “You know how him and Daddy get is all, ‘specially on his birthday.”

Constance screwed up her eyes and stared at Kaylee for a moment, no doubt scrutinizing her statement. “Bobby!” she suddenly shouted into the dining room, “Go upstairs and get your brother up!” She turned back toward the counter and resumed her preparations, “It’s time to start the day, if he don’t like it he shouldn’t be out all fuckin’ night,” she said, mostly to herself.

Kaylee could hear Bobby’s chair squeak across the floor, and the beginnings of his massive footsteps through the house. “Uncle Bobby, wait!” Kaylee called. “I’ll get him Gammy, it’s no problem,” she said softly but swiftly, not wanting to give her a chance to protest. She hurriedly filled her now empty tea mug to the brim with the still piping coffee and rushed through the dining room, careful not to spill. “I’ll get him,” she said to an idling Bobby, “you know he’s gonna be grumpy.” Bobby just shrugged as she passed him, and returned to his place at the table, next to his father.

As Kaylee approached the foot of the stairs, she looked up to see Caleb making his way down. His eyes were swollen with sleep and his infamous bedhead stuck up in every which way, sandy brown locks practically defying gravity. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as she passed him on the steps, “You drinkin’ coffee?” He asked, pausing his descent to look at the cup in her hand. “S’it that bad now?”

She shushed him harshly after this last question. “Shut the fuck up,” she whispered, “you said you wouldn’t tell anybody about that.” She knew he was joking, but she didn’t want the rest of her family to hear. No one knew she hadn’t been sleeping, except for Caleb. He knew everything there was to know about Kaylee and was probably the only one in the world who could claim that privilege.  

Caleb put his hands up defensively, “I haven’t!” he protested, still too loud for Kaylee’s liking.  

Kaylee sighed. Lack of sleep was making her grumpy, too. “I just…sorry,” she apologized, and Caleb nodded, knowing full well what she meant. She never needed to say much at all for him to understand her. “It’s for Travis,” she explained, “I had to stop Bobby from poundin’ on his door and causing a scene,” she rolled her eyes, “figure this’ll sweeten him up.”

Caleb nodded, eyes still heavy with sleep, the motion making him look like some kind of wise old sage. “Straight facts,” he said, “no printer.”

Kaylee scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Stupid,” was all she said and she resumed her journey to Travis’s old room. He had his own little house outside of town, not much more than a cabin really, but then again, her bachelor uncle didn’t need much more than that. He had moved out of Hackett House shortly after becoming a police officer, long before she was born. On the not infrequent occasion he would spend the night at the house, he would sleep in his childhood bedroom, which had remained unchanged since he moved out.

She and Caleb used to sneak into his room when he wasn’t home, back when they were smaller and still curious about the secrets Hackett House held within its walls. Typical meddling kids. They’d rifle through his old baseball cards and cassette tapes, scrunching their noses up at the unfamiliar band names on the prehistoric technology. Caleb would scribble mustaches and devil horns on the players featured on the baseball cards, which very nearly earned him an ass-whooping when their Gammy caught him, irate about their loss in monetary value. Thankfully, their father had been there to run interference, and as far as she knew, her uncle never found out about it. Kaylee’s personal favorite set of artifacts was her uncle’s collection of smooth river stones he kept on his windowsill. She had probably seen a million similar stones around their property in her time, but she always had the feeling those ones were special. They must be, for Travis to have kept them for so long. He was a curiously sentimental man despite his stony exterior, and she always liked that about him. Books and covers and whatnot.

She approached his room cautiously, careful not to make too much noise. She put an ear against his door, listening for any sign that he may already be awake, which was not entirely unlikely with all the ruckus the rest of the family was making downstairs. She knocked on his door twice, very gently, and listened. No response. She knocked again, a bit more forcefully this time, and heard his sleepy, muffled voice groan from inside, “Fuck off, Bobby! I’ll be down in a minute!”  

“Uncle Travis,” she said gently, “It’s Kaylee, actually.” She heard him sigh and faintly swear under his breath. “Can I come in? I brought you something,” she added in a sing-song voice.

“Uh,” he started, after a moment’s hesitation, “Yeah, sure.”

She opened his door, hinges just as creaky as her own, and found him lying flat on his back in his old twin bed, rubbing both hands down his face. “Shit, I’m sorry I yelled kiddo, I thought you were Bobby.”

“Yeah,” she said with a laugh as she took a seat next to him and the very edge of the narrow bed, “I figured as much when you said, ‘fuck off Bobby’!” She heard him chuckle and could see just a flash of a smile from beneath his hands. “I brought you some coffee!”

He perked up instantly at this, finally removing his hands from his tired face. He shifted himself into a seated position and Kaylee had to suppress a laugh at the sight of his own bedhead, so much like Caleb’s. Must be genetic in the Hackett boys. Well, except for Bobby. “Thanks kid, you didn’t have to,” he said, graciously taking the mug from her hands. He took a long, deep gulp before sighing in contented relief. He leaned back against the headboard and looked at her from under droopy eyelids, “I hear your grandma downstairs. Time to start the day, huh?”

Kaylee laughed. “Mmhmm,” she agreed, “Whether we’re ready for it or not.” He snorted at this and took another sip of his coffee. It was nice to have someone to commiserate with, although her uncle didn’t seem nearly as cranky now as he typically was most mornings. “Did y’all have a good time last night? Happy late birthday, by the way.”  

Travis took in a deep breath, his dark eyes darting around, seeming to search for the words. “Yeah actually- and thanks,” he interrupted himself to acknowledge her birthday wishes, “It actually wasn’t so bad. We ran into this-”

“Kaylee!” Travis was interrupted this time by his mother, shouting from the foot of the stairs, “I need your help, come peel these potatoes!”  

Uncle and niece both rolled their eyes in unison, “Comin’!” Kaylee shouted from her place on Travis’s bed. She gave Travis an apologetic look as she stood up.

He smirked and opened his mouth to speak when Constance shouted again, “Travis! Get your ass up boy, come join your family!”

“Jesus Christ,” he said under his breath, and Kaylee laughed. “I’m comin’ Ma!” he yelled back, before addressing Kaylee much more softly, “Tell her I’ll be down in a minute, yeah?”

She gave him a nod and a silent thumbs up as she left his room and headed back downstairs. She did inform her grandmother that he was on his way, and she did end up peeling potatoes and whatever other little tasks asked of her in the process of making breakfast. Caleb was recruited to brown sausage while their grandmother made biscuits. Kaylee fried potatoes and started cracking eggs in a large glass bowl. Eventually Travis came downstairs and idly chatted with his father and brother. Kaylee saw her Pappy pat his oldest son on the back as he sat down at the table, no doubt wishing him a happy birthday as well. The Hackett men smiled and laughed at something her Pappy pointed out in the paper. Kaylee thought they were the picture of normalcy, pulled straight from a Norman Rockwell painting.  

She cracked one egg after another into the bowl, letting the long stringy egg whites slowly drip from each shell as she thought about how, just three nights ago, her, her brother, and her father had all quite literally burst out of their skin. She never remembered much from those nights, but she had long ago insisted her family tell her all the gory details. Little pieces of everything resembling Kaylee Hackett exploding in a cloud of red, leaving behind in its place a horrendous, gangly monster. All sharp teeth and claws. A stupid, bloody thirsty animal. A werewolf. And now, everything was back to normal. At least until the next full moon. Was the transition supposed to be so…easy? So natural?

She absent-mindedly cracked the last egg on the countertop a bit too hard, rupturing its cold slimy contents entirely into her own hand. “Eugh!” she gasped loudly, drawing the attention of her grandmother, who tsked at her.

“Kaylee-girl! Waste not, want not,” she scolded, closer to annoyed than angry.

Kaylee dropped the shell in the sink and proceeded to wash off the goo that had traveled down her arm, “Sorry Gammy,” she laughed nervously, “Guess I don’t know my own strength.”  

Breakfast was finished and served without any additional incidents. Biscuits and gravy, home fried potatoes, scrambled eggs, a strawberry pie made the night before. Kaylee took her place at the table, right next to Caleb, and watched as her grandmother did the rounds refilling everyone’s mug of coffee from what she had accurately predicted to be third pot of the morning. Constance placed one hand on Travis’s back as she refilled his mug, and he grinned up at her and thanked her. She paused to look down at her eldest son and brought one hand up to hold his chin in between her thumb and the crook of her pointer finger. “My boy,” she said, considering his face, “Where does all the time go?”  

He smiled at her lovingly, and somewhat morosely. “Right out the window Ma,” he responded, and she chuckled and patted his cheek gently.  

Just then, Kaylee heard the front door open and close again abruptly. “Oh, there’s your brother, finally!” Constance remarked, turning around in time to catch Chris as he strode into the dining room.  

“Mother dearest,” he said, slightly out of breath as he gave his mother a quick side hug and a small peck on the temple. “Sorry I’m running late. Had to make sure the counselors were in a good place to carry on without me. You know how it is.” He rounded the table and gave both of his children a good hard kiss to the very tops of their heads as he made his way to his seat, “Good morning my beautiful spawn,” he said jokingly. Kaylee giggled and Caleb feigned annoyance.  

Not much else was said as the family tucked into their meal, which was, as always, delicious. Kaylee’s grandfather, Jed, finally broke the silence after the family’s initial face-stuffing had waned. “What’d you boys get up to last night?” He asked, directed at Chris and Travis.  

“Oh, same ol’,” Travis began, “Beers at Rumrunner’s-”

“Aah!” Chris interrupted. “That’s not all,” he said with a wide grin, pointing his fork at his older brother. “Travis met a girl last night.”  

Kaylee and Caleb, as if mentally linked, both made a singsong “Ooooh,” sound at exactly the same time. Constance and Jed looked at each other with raised eyebrows.

“Was she hot?” Bobby asked plainly.

“Robert!” Constance laughed, gently slapping his arm.  

“Stone cold fox,” Chris continued, “And she was all over birthday boy over here. Bought him a drink and everything.”

“Chris, c’mon man,” Travis said, the tips of his ears turning red. Her uncle’s improved mood this morning made a whole lot more sense to Kaylee now.

“Well!” Constance insisted, impatient. “What’s her name? Where’s she from? Is she local? What’s she do for a living?”

It was obvious her barrage of questions had discombobulated Travis, as it took him a moment to process what she had asked him. He took a deep breath and began to count on one hand, “Her name is Nora. She’s not local. I actually didn’t find out where’s she’s from, and I don’t know what she does for a living.”

Constance leaned back in her seat, excitement beginning to fade. “Well Christ’s sakes, did you even talk to her?”

Travis began to stutter, as he always did when someone put him on the spot, “I just – well, I,” he stumbled. “She was kind of slippery, Ma,” he said defensively, “she said something about homesteading, looking for property. That’s something, right?”

Chris grunted through a mouth full of food, “She did have a whole mysterious…thing, going on.” He waved his hand in the air like a sorcerer casting a spell, which made Kaylee giggle.

“Chris had an emergency at the camp,” Travis continued, voice heavy with blame, “and we had to leave before I could learn much else.”

Constance whipped her head to look at Chris, concern evident on her face. “An emergency, what kind of emergency?”  

Chris waved one hand in front of him dismissively, swallowing his food in one hard gulp. “It was nothin’. A counselor said he was missing some kids. And I was right, by the way,” he said to Travis, “Caught ‘em smoking in the privy. Well, vaping.” He rolled his eyes.

“The hell is vaping?” Jed asked.

“It’s an electronic cigarette,” Caleb explained to his Pappy, “It has an atomizer that vaporizes oil with nicotine in it. You can get in different flavors…”

“How do you know that?” Chris asked his son.

“I thought everybody knew that? It’s like, common knowledge,” Caleb said with a shrug.

“I knew that,” Bobby beamed, seemingly proud of himself.  

Travis smooshed one hand against his forehead and dragged it up and through his hair. Kaylee could tell he found this conversation quite painful, but she personally loved these small moments of lighthearted chaos. Their biggest problem at the moment was kids vaping in the shitter, and she was alright with that.  

“Anyway!” Constance announced over the chatter of her family. “I don’t know how I feel about all this ‘lookin’ for property’ business,” she said, using air quotes. “I just hope she’s not some gold-diggin’ hussy after you for your land.”

“Ma!” Travis’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and he looked sideways at his mother, obviously offended.  

“I’m just sayin’. All this,” she motioned around her vaguely, “will be yours – well, you and your brothers’ – when your father and I die someday. I just don’t want to see you be taken advantage of is all, Travis. Family,” she said, pausing for effect, “is the most important thing.” She folded her hands neatly in her lap, looking innocent as a lamb and pious as a nun.

Travis opened his mouth to speak and apparently thought better of it. He swallowed whatever words desperately wanted to come bubbling up and instead smiled politely. “I appreciate your concern Ma,” he said with a courteous nod of his head.  

Constance looked quite pleased with that answer, and with that, the conversation died. In its place, Jed resurrected the earlier one about vaping, seeking further clarification from his grandson. “Atomizer?”

Kaylee’s father was tasked with washing the dishes as a consequence for running late, his earlier excuse being evidently inadequate. He was a good sport about it though, and Kaylee, being naturally helpful, decided to lend him a hand. They were not and never had been possessing of a dishwasher, so the task had to be done the old-fashioned way. He’d scrub the dishes; she’d dry them off. In truth, she was happy to have her father all to herself. She barely got to see him during the summer when camp was in full swing. He was too busy tending to other people’s children, and if she wasn’t helping out at camp or seeing him at family meals, the only other interaction she got to have with him was during the full moon. Covered in blood and tattered clothing, waiting in the electric cages in the cellar for their family to let them out after dawn finally broke. Anxious to get cleaned up and go back to pretending everything was okay. Safe to say, this was a nice treat. She wondered if she was selfish for thinking that.

“Hey Daddy?” she broke the silence.

“Yes miss Kaylee?” He turned toward her, handing her a plate. A good-natured smile crinkled the corners of his eyes.

“Do you think you’ll need me at camp today? I kinda wanted to go to the library. I’m not feelin’ the book I got last week. Wanna switch it out.” She dried the dish without looking at him.

He paused and looked toward the ceiling for a minute, considering everything on his busy agenda. “No…,” he said, though it sounded more like a question. “No. I think we’ll be good for today. Y’know, Bobby’s driving Travis back into town, you could hitch a ride with them.”  

“Nah,” she said, a little too quickly, “I’ll ride my bike. I don’t want him to have to wait around for me.” This was only a partial truth. She did want to go to the library, and her new book did pretty much suck ass in her opinion, but that wasn’t all she wanted to accomplish there. Kaylee didn’t have a home computer, being both broke and the daughter of a technophobe, and she had been going to the library for weeks now to research colleges on their public computers. And to look at the occasional meme, or two, or a dozen or more. Update her social media, which her father knew absolutely nothing about, and was mostly used to help her stay current and keep in touch with what few friends she still had from middle school. Before, well, everything happened. She didn’t want to risk Bobby, or anyone else in her family, finding out about it. A girl ought to have some secrets, even from family. With the possible exception of her brother.

“Ok sweetheart,” he said, handing her the final soaking dish of the morning. “Just be safe out there, ok? Make sure you’re back before dark.” She dried the final dish and the pair worked together to put them all back in their rightful places.

Chris glanced down at his watch, “Alright, time for me to vamoose! C’mere,” he said, arms open wide, “give your old man a hug.”

Kaylee dipped into the hug without hesitation, giving her father a good hard squeeze around the middle, drawing out what may or may not have been a genuine groan of pain. He rested one hand atop her head, pressing her close to his chest, and delivered another smaller, more gentle kiss to her cranium. “I sure do love you kid,” he said with the utmost sincerity.

She inhaled deeply, the smell of coffee lingering on his clothes flooded her senses. An image of the centers of sunflowers, another example of nature’s excellent brown things. Her family’s dark eyes. “I love you too Dad.”