Chapter 4: Confronting Christopher

I couldn’t believe what Chris had just said. My breath hitched at the back of my throat, my face turned red, not from embarrassment but anger. No one had never dared to call me like that. He looked at me with a satisfied smirk plastered on his lips, and all I wanted to do was to wipe it off his face. My mouth opened to say something, but my mother beat me to it.

“Chris, welcome! Please come in. I see you met, my daughter, Ophelia,” my mom said, unaware of what that little punk called me a few seconds ago.

“Thank you, Ms. Tramell. It’s nice to see you again,” he said and came in.

I keep glaring at him, and my mom glanced me a bit perplexed. “Is everything okay?” she asked me gently. I simply nodded, and we all headed to the living room.

David seemed surprised to see his son dressed like that. It wasn’t a formal dinner, but he could have dressed better than his sweatpants and a plain tee. Chris exchange a quick handshake with my grandparents, and then he plopped on the sofa next to his father.

“I thought you’d change,” David scolded him quietly.

“You said I had to come straight away. I didn’t have time to shower or wear some fancy clothes,” Chris retorted.

“Christopher, don’t get me started about…”

“Oh, come on. It’s not a big deal that I didn’t shower. It’s just sweat, plus I don’t smell that bad,” Chris rudely interrupted David, and to prove his point he sniffed his armpits.

David saw red, my grandfather looked amused, I exchanged a look with my grandma scrunching up my nose in disgust.

My mom came to the rescue, “Chris why don’t you use the bathroom to wash your hands and freshen up a bit.” When the boy nodded in agreement and got up from the sofa, my mom had to utter the words that made me lose all the color of my face, “Ophelia will show you the way.” I gave her a shocked look and I tried to complain, but she looked completely unfazed. “Bring a vase full of water in your way back, angel. The poor flowers will dry,” she added glancing at the bouquet that David brought earlier.

I just nodded and walked out of the living room with the devil hot on my tail. “I know what you are trying to do, and I'm sure it isn’t going to work,” I told him, breaking the awkward silence. “You can’t interfere in their life. Get over it and just be happy for them,” I added, and opened the bathroom door for him.

He didn’t say anything, completely ignoring my presence. I sighed and left for the kitchen; there was no point to argue with a mule. I found the vase that my mom mentioned; it was the same as the one I was drawing earlier. A chill run down my spine, as memories of the dreams I had, came back to my mind. I took a few deep breaths and cleared my thoughts.

I filled the vase with water, like my mom had asked, and turned over. I jumped, utterly surprised to see Chris standing at the doorway. “You startled me,” I muttered, clutching the vase a bit harder.

“You don’t get it, do you?” I look at him confused not sure what he was insinuating. “I don’t need, and most definitely don’t want another woman to replace my mother,” he explained.

“You think my mother is trying to replace yours? Have you lost your mind? My mother and your father care for each other, and they want to be together. They deserve to be happy after all they’ve been through.”

“It’s easy for you to say that because you never met your father. You never had to lose someone you deeply love and care about. You can’t understand this.” he retorted.

“I don’t have any memory of my father, because I don’t even have a person to call 'father'! You are afraid that you will forget your mother,” I said my voice a bit higher than before.

“And you are trying to steal someone’s else father,” he accused me.

That was it I saw red. The lights start flashing, the vase in my hands broke, but I didn’t care for any of these. “How dare you say something like that. I am happy with my family. I love my mother so much that I’d accept someone else as my stepfather if that makes her happy. I don’t intend to intrude in your family or steal your father. I am already part of a family; I don’t search for a new one. All I want is my mother to be happy,” I said my voice laced with anger. The lights had gone out, and I heard my mother calling my name from somewhere in the distance, but at that moment, I didn’t care.

He remained silent, and I continued my rambling, “I wish I had a person to call father, a person who would love me and care about me unconditionally, as my mother and my grandparents do. I have accepted that my father didn’t want me. You have to accept that your mother is gone and that she’d like for you to be happy. You will never forget her; she will, always, be in your heart. Stop punishing yourself and try to be happy, because then you’ll make her happy, too.”

The last words came out of my mouth as a whisper. I was very tired all of a sudden. The lights came back on, and I noticed Chris’ sullen expression. He seemed ashamed and somewhat remorseful. He opened his mouth to say something, but at the same time, a painful sensation pierced me. I looked down, and I saw that glass pieces had cut my hands. My mom’s vase was broken, and all the water had fallen on the floor or drenched my clothes.

“Ophelia are you okay?” mom asked, but as soon as she took in my state, a gasp escaped her lips. “What happened?”

“The lights went out and I got scared; the vase slipped through my hands and broke. Chris came when he heard my scream. I’m so sorry about the vase,” I muttered.

“It’s okay. Don’t worry about that. Chris, are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay. We have to take care of her wounds,” he said, looking a bit worried.

My mom threw the broken pieces on the garbage carefully, and my grandmother, who came shortly after, started taking care of my injured hand. Grandpa and David went to check the electric panel.

“You have to be more careful, angel,” my grandma scolded me.

“Mom, please take Ophelia upstairs, and help her bandage her hand and change clothes. I will clean up here, and hopefully, then we can eat,” my mom instructed, and we did as she said.

“Shall I help you, Ms. Tramell?" I heard Chris asking before we left.

About fifteen minutes later, we were finally sited at the table. David informed us that the panel was looking good, while grandpa eyed me suspiciously. For a while, we focused on our food, which was delicious. Even David got impressed by my mother’s cooking skills. The men conversate about football and baseball, although Chris talked only when someone addressed him. My mom and my grandma exchanged some tips about the recipes.

“What are your plans for the Christmas holidays?” my grandma asked, coming up with a topic that concerned us all.

“We usually go to a winter resort. Chris and I love skiing or snowboarding,” answered David with a small smile on his face.

“We can have dinner or spend the New Years' Eve all together when you come back,” my grandpa suggested.

“Of course, we can arrange that,” replied David, his eyes lightening up. My mom looked joyous by her dad’s proposal. It seems they liked both David and Chris.

“You can come with us at the resort, too, if you want?” asked Chris eyeing me and mom.

My jaw almost hit the floor; my eyes widened in shock. A few moments ago, he was accusing me of trying to steal his father, and now he suggested spending more time together. Is he bipolar or something? Both mom and David had the same shocked expression plastered on their faces, so I assumed they were as clueless as I was.

“Thank you for the invitation. We’ll think about it. We don’t want to intrude on your family’s tradition,” I replied since no one else said anything.

“Don’t see it like that, Ophelia. You are welcome to join us,” David said.

After that, the atmosphere seemed a bit lighter than before. We talked some more about our interests. Chris was part of a small band, he is very keen on exercise, and he plays as a quarterback at his school’s football team. I told them that I attend martial arts and that I like painting and reading books. I was surprised to find out that we have more common things with Chris than I thought.

David and Chris left later that night. We decided to meet again soon. My mom and grandma started cleaning up, while they ordered me not to help them because of my injured hand. None of them brought up the incident that happened in the kitchen, and I figured it was better no to say anything, too. I couldn’t understand the sudden change of Chis’ attitude, and until I learned the truth, I wasn’t going to upset my loved ones.

I went to my room and undressed; I laid down on the bed, but I couldn’t sleep. Hushed voices and whispers sounded from downstairs. Curiosity got the better of me; I got up from my bed and as soundless as I could, I opened my room's door.

“She has to learn the truth, Ana,” my grandpa said.

“Not yet. She isn’t ready. I will decide when the right time has come,” my mom countered back.

“She must learn to control her powers, otherwise she may harm herself,” Grandpa insisted.

I couldn’t figure out what they were talking about, but I was quite sure it has something to do with me.

“Dad, she will be in great danger if she decides to follow this lifestyle. I can’t risk her getting hurt,” my mom said her voice breaking at the end. I started descending the stairs.

“It’s not your choice to make, Anna; it’s hers. But she must learn the truth before she decides what will be the best for her.”

“What truth are you talking about?” I asked and they all turned to look at me. Pure panic painted all over my mom’s face.

“Come here, angel. There is something I want to talk to you about,” grandpa said sternly.

It was time to face the truth…