"Morning," he said casually. He walked to the fridge and pulled out his water bottle. He was texting someone and talking to us at the same time. It was weird. He walked around, getting things out, getting his breakfast ready. He set his bottle on the island, trying to juggle everything he is doing. You know, with him being a doctor and all you would've thought his morning routine would be a lot better but he treats himself so bad. I mean he doesn't really take care of himself like how he preaches you should.

"Man, I am so tired. I barely got a couple hours of sleep last night. I kept on thinking about going to work today. A couple of people's pagers stopped working so it has been a bit of mayhem. Nguyen missed work because of this. I am just glad mine is still working. There has been so much running, you can tell who goes to the gym and who doesn't!"

He kept on going on about the pagers and whatever else at work. I guess he didn't hear us not respond. I didn't see Greyson talk and I forgot how to. He was prancing around the kitchen looking for something to eat. He still had his phone in his hand. 

When he didn't hear us his suspicions started to rise. He stood across from us on the other side of the island. He set his bottle and phone down and finally took a good look at our faces. He was looking at us as if something was wrong. I mean, there was but in a good way, I hope. 

"What is wrong with you two? Don't tell me you guys got onto drugs too," he asked playfully.

Greyson and I had a weird mind meld thing that you see on T.V. You know, where the two characters look at each other, shocked, then look back at the suspect or victim or other character. It was straight out of a movie. Our eyes were bulged and our mouths were slightly hanging a bit. 

His eyes were flying between us two, trying to find something wrong. I think he was thinking about my nose bleed but it was gone from his mind quick. "Okay what is-Whose flowers are those?" he said seriously. Glad he noticed the elephant in the room. He looked at them, his eye brows knitted together. 

I didn't want to say anything before he read the card. At least give the man some happiness. I slid the card across the counter. It stopped perfectly right in front of him. I guess what was happening was too much because Greyson sat down. Dad looked at the card and picked it up, suspicious.

"Okay," he said before reading it.

There was silence as he read the card. The stillness was reminding me uncomfortably of the hospital.

Like me, Dad had to read it 3 or 4 times before he understood it. When he finished, he looked at us. He was smiling at first but then real quick his eyes flew to us then a serious realization dawned on him. We all stood there thinking about the words. To be honest they still weren't making a whole lot of sense to me. Dad's eyes were flying back-to-back from me and Greyson. He was slightly moving his mouth, but no sound was coming out. His mouth was shaping words he doesn't like saying out loud. A rule in the house: Don't use certain words if they are not necessary. No point in ruining a beautiful voice with ugly words. 

When it became too much Dad went to the coffee machine and started to brew some cups. Greyson and I were looking at each other and Dad, silently communicating with our eyes and brows and shoulders. I think he felt our stares dig into his back because he was rubbing his neck. Finally he took out 3 steaming cups, sugar, and creamer to the breakfast nook. Greyson and I joined after taking the hint.

We sat down at the very intimate table. Fitting for the occasion. Greyson grabbed two cups and settled one in front of me. I guess Dad forgot that I didn't drink coffee. But I decided to have it anyway. I would like to hear every word of this conversation clearly. I picked up the mug and before it touched my lips Greyson stopped me and added sugar and creamer then he let me have it.

I took my first and last sip of coffee for the time being. Now I remember why I don't drink it. No amount of sugar will ever fix how bitter it is. 

Dad finally started to talk. He talked and talked and talked some more. Every time one of us tried to intervene the other would stop them. We wanted Dad to talk freely but sometimes it would slip from our minds. But as Dad kept on talking I kind slipped away from the conversation into my memories. I was remembering a lot of things. But the thing I remembered the most is something from the night he came home intoxicated. 

He didn't have any lipstick, any makeup products, on his face. Okay I get that anyone can wear makeup products but this area of town isn't like that, or the older folks aren't like that. But yeah there are a lot, I mean a lot, of girls who don't like makeup but he went to a night club. Even regular girls put something on before going dancing. 

But now it makes sense.

Dad finally stopped talking. He sat there, looking at us, pleading for one of us to restart the conversation. I looked towards Greyson. His hands were jumping from his mug to his face to his hair to his lap. He looked like he wanted to curl into a ball and hide. Dad looked almost the same. His eyes so much fear in him that if you said "BOO" to him he would die of shock. He also looked like he wanted to crawl under something and never come out.

As for me I was the complete opposite of those two. I did something I haven't done in a very long, long time. I smiled. I gave a genuine, true, happy smile. It filled me up with so much happiness that it made me feel very light headed. It felt weird. I was maybe on drugs

"DAD!"

I stood up very fast, knocking my chair backwards in the process. I kind of stumbled due to the light-headedness, iron deficiency. Greyson fell to the floor with such shock and Dad looked alarmed. I couldn't stand straight and I was having such a joker smile. 

"What?" he asked, very alarmed. 

"Dad, you're in love!" My voice felt different too. Happier?

"What?" he asked so stupidly.

"You- nimrod- you- are- in- love!" I felt like screaming this to the world.

"Ok," he said very slowly. "Hold your horses. I like him, maybe, but- but love? I don't think so."

"Greyson!" I turned him very energetically.

Greyson got off the floor and was rubbing his back. "She is right," he said. He was smiling too now. 

"See I am right!" I pointed a finger to Dad, knowing I am right.

Dad looked at us so flabbergasted. He stood up to be at eye level.

"Okay, I am not in love."

"Dad," I said pleadingly. "When was the last time you talked about someone like that? You didn't with Kiya and you for sure as hell didn't with Lori! You-are-in-love!"

"I am not- Greyson! Help me out, man!"

"I am not sure, Clay," Greyson was starting to laugh as he accused Dad. "You are still trying to hide your smile."

Dad immediately stopped. Even when he was talking he was absent mindedly smiling. 

"I am not in-"

Beep! Beep! Beep!

His phone was going off.

"And there goes my alarm!" he said as he turned it off. He sounded irritated now. He got up from the table and was heading out.

"We will finish the conversation later," he walked out of the kitchen as fast as his lanky legs could carry him.

"Bring home the Mr., Cupid!" I yelled after him. I heard him give a panicked sigh. 

I shook my head and laughed at my antics. I was having energy I certainly did not have 30 minutes ago. I was also very, very hungry. Bring me a horse and I could finish it in 10 seconds. I looked towards Greyson, a smile still lingering on my face, who was still dumbfounded. This is the annoying thing about this whole situation. The bipolar situation. I mean I was just extremely sad this morning why the hell am I feeling this ounce of happiness right now?

"Let's have some breakfast, yeah?" I was leaning back in chair, my hair falling all over my face. I looked relaxed now. 

"Yeah."

He looked at me like I was a walking miracle.

"Why are you acting like Peter Parker?" I asked playfully.

"D-Daisy, how are- how are you feeling?" he looked like it was pure torture asking this.

I became a little serious. I knew what he meant. I mean, anyone with context would understand what he meant. It isn't exactly rocket science.

"Better than this morning. Now how about some breakfast?" I walked over to the cabinet to see my options. "I'm starving."

...

Dad came home around 8. In the meantime, I managed to do a lot. I ate- and threw up- some food, cleaned up a bit, went for a walk, cooked some dinner, and did half of my laundry. Talk about a spike in mood. Right now, we are just laying down on the couch, being quiet. Literally not saying a word to each other. He was sleepy; his eyes were fluttering as he was falling asleep. I don't like taking naps in the afternoon, cause then I won't sleep at night, but I seem to get the best power naps exactly at that time. 

I saw the headlights from the living room come on the driveway then turn off. We got up when they didn't come inside. I grabbed my jacket and headed outside.

The car was in the driveway but instead of one person, absolutely dead, it was two. That made me squirm on the inside. Dad was in the passengers seat. 

I was all of a sudden nervous. I slowed down and accidentally bumped into Greyson. I grabbed onto his arm, like how Hermione did to Ron. I don't know why I got cold feet. I wasn't nervous about the first impression right now- we already got that out of the way- but there was this icy nervousness coursing through me right now.

Greyson and I slowly walked towards the car.

"Uhh... Daisy." He looked at his arm then at me. I got the hint.

"Sorry." I don't know why I am whispering right now. I loosened my grip on his arm and crossed them. It felt like this would protect me for some reason. Greyson put his arm around me and pushed me closer to him. This helped but just spooked me for a second.

Victor rolled down the windows when we got to his door. I never got a good look at Victor the last time I saw him. He was a bit more tanned than Dad and was the same built as him, skinny and a bit tall and overall has, like, a Timothée Chalamet body type. His hair is total Newt Scamander, Eddie Redmayne to you muggles, though. He was clean shaven but well groomed. His hair looked so plushy and soft that it looked like it felt like butter. But he had a school boy look to him. His ocean blue eyes were innocent and his features looked like they weren't developed. 

He rolled down the window and I got a good look at Dad too. He looked tense and his eyes were red. Victor, however, looked like he was taking a pleasant walk in the park. His smile was so welcoming.

"Hello," he said quiet. It was super calm. I would literally want that voice when I am having a panic attack.

"Hi," I said quietly.

Dad was not looking at us. He was looking out the window, taking in short and sharp breaths.

"So... I guess the cat is out of the bag, huh?" Victor said. He looked over to Dad, smiling, but when he noticed how Dad was doing he put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it. He smiled again and looked back towards Greyson and I.

"Who is this gentleman?" Victor asked me as he looked over Greyson. 

"This- This- Umm- This- Is- This-"

Greyson looked at me then to Victor and said "Greyson, Daisy's boyfriend." He stuck his hand out in a very orderly fashion, which even weirded him out. Old habits. They shook on it and smiled very humbly towards each other.

I was at a loss for words. I just stood there silently looking at Victor. I was being judgmental, I knew I was, but I couldn't help it. I was just looking at the choice of his outfit (you wouldn't believe the amount of way you could personalize scrubs), how his posture was, how he looks right now. You tend to judge people based on how they look to see how they could potentially treat you. But I don't trust this system half of the time. Even the most thuggish people surprise me.

"So, uh, like, what happened?" Greyson said. As soon as he said it I wished he phrased it better. I looked at him and he just shrugged his shoulders. 

Victor was grinning at us. Dad was still not looking at us. I could see him trying to take deep breathes in. He put his head in his lap and wrapped his arms around himself, wanting to make himself unnoticeable. 

"I think that is a story for another day."

Dad, for some reason, started crying at this point. It was extremely loud. Victor was whispering words to him that we couldn't hear. Dad tried to calm himself. Victor moved his hand from his shoulder to Dad's hand. Dad didn't want to take it at first but eventually did. 

He turned back to us, his smile never faulting. He stuck his head out of the window like a dog on a ride. It was a curious look he was sporting.

"You know what, why don't we have this conversation over dinner tomorrow? Why not Olive Garden at 8?"

"Sure."

"Sounds good to me."

"And, please, bring your friends, too. Jonah and Donna?"

"Joshua and Dani."

"Yes, sorry, please bring them as well."

"Okay," Greyson said. I still was not talking. It was like today my voice said I am out of here. My brain left me at birth so I couldn't blame that either. 

Dad took another sharp breath in. He couldn't take anymore of whatever was going through him. He started to sob at this point. 

"Say, guys, do you mind heading inside? I would like to have a word with Clay."

"Sure."

"Okay, goodnight."

"Goodnight," he said quietly, like tucking a toddler into bed and giving them a kiss on the cheek. 

Greyson turned us around and we headed inside. I took a chance peeked at them. They were looking at each other. Dad was sitting up now, still crying, but Victor was smiling and laughing and talking. But underneath everything you could see how fond they were for each other. Victor was resting one of his hands on Dad's neck and the other was holding onto one of Dad's hands. He picked up Dad's hand to his mouth and gave it such a sweet kiss.

We got inside and sat down again. I suddenly felt so tired. All the chores and errands I did today was nothing compared to the 2 minute conversation, if you call it that: Me just standing there like a stupid idiot. I felt my eyes closing on the spot.

After a few minutes I heard the door open. Dad came in, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He took off his shoes and bag and acted like we weren't even there. He just walked over to his room and quietly slammed the door.

"Dad!"

I heard the lock click. I got up and was about to pound the door. What happened?

I was approaching the door when Greyson stopped me.

"Don't," he said with a look to the door.

"Don't what?" I was so confused. I just wanted to make sure he was alright.

"Don't. Let him be. He has gone through a lot today. Just give him space to breathe tonight then we can talk in the morning.

"No! I want to talk to him."

I was walking around him and raised my fist. Greyson literally picked me up, which I fought against. I was getting scared. He let me down on the couch. I was on the verge of tears again. I am so stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

"Please, just let him be tonight. He is not ready. Both of you are not in your heads. Breathe then we can talk tomorrow."

I didn't want to fight again so I just agreed. All of this was still not making sense to me.

"Please, let's- let's just head to bed. It's been a long day."

...

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