I took Alistair's words to heart and realized how selfish I had been. I called my dad the next day after my college classes and he sounded relieved to hear my voice and even more relieved when I invited him over to supper. He showed up with three bags out take out from the local food shop that specialized in East Coast donairs and craft poutines. It would have been sweet if his eyes weren't so blurry.

"Hey," I said, moving out of the way for him.

He hustled in almost frantically.

"Are you okay?"

He rubbed a hand down his face and it was then that I saw that he hadn't shaved in a few days – which was not uncommon given his line of work – and his lower lip was quivering – which was uncommon given the fact that he was my happy-go-lucky parent.

"I'm keeping it together," he admitted, then his eyes narrowed on me. "But I don't want you to try pulling that psychology shit on me right now. I know that you're studied enough psych to teach it at this point, but I don't think I could stand having you analyze me," he warned. "I know that we have been divorced for years, but that is the woman I chose to have a child with. Sure, we didn't work out, but that doesn't mean I want anything to happen to her."

"I know, Dad. Just because you couldn't be married, doesn't mean you don't love each other."

I swept in, taking the bags from my father, not even noticing their enticing smell anymore. Once the food was safely put aside, I took my father into my arms and felt him crumple against me. my sweet, kind father fell apart then. I held him tightly as he shook, tears soaking the material of my sweater.

I would be lying if I said that I didn't consider crying then. I felt like I should have broken down ages ago. My mother was gone. She could be suffering through every moment. She could be dead. Her body could be decomposing in the ocean right now, or locked in some dark underground cell where no one would ever find her. The person that I had looked up to my entire life, the person that I mimicked in almost every way, was gone. I deserved to cry.

But all I could think about why I held my dad was that he was crying over a woman who wouldn't bat an eye if their roles had been reversed.

Regardless, this was my father, and having someone around was comforting. After a few minutes, he was able to wipe his tears and smile at me a little timidly. "Look at me, I came here to check up on you and you end up taking care of me," he said.

"We are going to take care of each other," I suggested gently. Because, even if I wasn't going to sob into my hands and shake with grief, a part of me needed my dad too. It had become a lonely world in short time, and even Alistair had his parents to lean on all those years ago. Besides, who could turn down fresh donairs?

We curled up on my couch with Inkwell dawdling between us. For someone who claimed to dislike cats, my father was more than tolerant when Inky rubbed up against his arm, seeking the attention that I was clearly not providing. The donairs would have been enough to fill both of us up, but as the worry and anxiety ebbed away, our appetites came back and we were able to pick at our poutines as well.

"How are you doing money wise?" he asked.

I blinked once, startled. The reality was that I had already taken a big chunk out of my savings. My rent was not cheap considering my location and the fact that everything in my apartment was renovated to perfection. My insurance for my car had also been a big hit that my mother often covered.

"You don't need to worry about me," I said with a grin that felt far too forced.

"As your parent, it is kind of my job."

"I'm fine," I lied, thinking about his smaller income. When he had been with my mother, he often joked that she was only reason he could follow his passion because there was no money in it unless he worked for the gas and oil giants. There was no way he would be able to afford taking care of himself and his grown daughter.

"London, come on. You don't have a job. Your mom never asked you to have one, she just wanted you to get your education."

"Dad, I have enough schooling to be a teacher or an accountant or a paramedic. I've already put my resumes out to a few jobs that will accommodate my weird hours with school." It was a lie, but who cared. If I needed money, I would find a way when the time came.

"I can help," he offered. "You're my kid. I want to help. I know that you don't want to do anything that might risk your chances."

I had already risked everything as far as opportunities. Alistair had pretty much spat in my face when he told me that I wouldn't be considered for any contracts I might have been qualified for. I had burned my bridges with Jasper and now that my mom was gone, I really had no connection to the world I so desperately wanted to be a part of.

"A real job won't kill me and if the agency didn't want me then, I doubt they are going to want me all of the sudden. I put out a resume to an accounting firm for social media management and another for a tour guide at a local brewery."

"Okay kiddo, I just want you to know that I'm here for you."

I gave him a halfhearted smile and sank deeper into the couch. We flicked through our options on television until I found a nature documentary I knew he would like. With my cat curled up in his lap and a half-eaten poutine in his hand, his head tipped back and his mouth fell open in time with his gentle snores. I took the container of food before his grasp before it could be dumped, wondering how long it had been since he had fallen asleep without staring into the blackness for hours. God knows it had been far too long for me.

In no time, I was following my dad. I felt my head rock forwards and backwards ever so slowly. A roar of a lion or a call from a wildebeest would startle me enough to part my eyes, but I was slump right back down and roll into brief bits of dreams. I needed sleep. I deserved sleep.

When there was a knock on the door, I hardly noticed. I convinced myself that it was some strange occurrence on TV for a while, but when the second round of thumps came, I was awake enough to identify that I actually had a visitor. While my father continued to snore on the couch, I got to my feet and rubbed my eyes. Who could be coming to my door at nine in the evening?

When I pulled open the door, I was greeted with a face I knew almost as well as my own. "Dexter."

"Hey," he rumbled. When his eyes scanned me over, I felt a familiar warmth pooling in my belly.

And a new sense of resolve slammed over me immediately after.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered.

"What do you think? You left me in another fucking country and haven't answered a single one of my calls or my texts since!" he accused.

Mindful of my father, I stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind me. God only knew the lecture I would receive if my dad heard that I had been avoiding my best friend too. He and Dexter would surely gang up on me and scold me every single misstep I had taken since my mother's disappearance. I could already picture the way Dex's eyes would shift when he found out that I hadn't told him about my mom.

"Is someone in there?" Dex demanded, missing nothing, his eyes staring at the door behind me as if he wished he could see through it.

"It's late, Dexter," I pointed out gently.

"I knew you would be home. I just thought you would be alone."

Was there jealousy in his voice? I knew him well, but I had never seen him envious of anything or anyone so it was hard to be sure.

"I thought you were fine with flying by yourself," I pointed out.

"The flight is not point, London. You invited me out there to be with you. I didn't fly that far just to see Zara and Jasper."

"You got to drive her Porsche."

"Lonny," he snapped, "I went out there for you. We spent a night together, then you leave with no explanation and refuse to have any contact with me. I think I deserve to know what the fuck is going on."

"Nothing is going on."

Dexter rolled his eyes, taking a step back as if he couldn't bear being close to me. "We're friends. We've been friends for ever. Don't treat me like one of your one-night stands."

And there it was. He had handed me to perfect way to get rid of him. As much as I cared for him, I couldn't deny the reality that he was a distraction. And while my mom was out there, I couldn't spare a second for anyone other than my family. Not even Dexter.

I met his eyes without allowing a single emotion to flicker across my features.

"So that's it then?" he demanded. "You are going to act like I'm nothing more than one of your hookups?"

I said nothing.

And I kept my mouth shut when he stepped back from me yet again. I watched whatever fragility there was in his features evaporate. Rage took over and it was hot and impatient. His jaw clenched. I wondered if he was going to call me something obscene. He almost had the right to. But he didn't utter a word. His hands clenched into fists before he turned on his heels.

I watched my best friend walk away from and told myself that it was all for the best. 

~~~Question of the Day~~~

Do you ever wish the internet didn't exist?