Roses & Bullets

XX. Mixed Emotions

CLAIRE

"All right," my father rises from his chair and heads back to his room. "I'm going to take my medicine, and no, Claire, you don't have to help me. See you later, Erik."

"See you later, sir," Erik replies as he continues to eat his meal.

I'm a little sad that my father doesn't want my help, because to be honest, I like taking care of him. I know he just wants to be more independent, but still, I can't help but feel worried about him. Now he won't even let me assist him take his medication.

Corey has already left for school, so that leaves me alone in the kitchen with Erik. He always seems to be in a hurry to go to school these days, and I know that I should be happy, but sometimes I feel like he's hiding something. I just hope I'm wrong.

Erik and I both finish our breakfast at the same time, so I try to clear up the table, but Erik stops me by holding my hand. My heart skips a beat, and I almost drop the plates.

"Listen, Claire," he starts to say as he looks directly into my eyes, "about the other night.."

"Yes?" I think he's talking about the night he tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

Erik taps his foot on the floor, and I have to sit back down before I lose my balance. He clears his throat, but he still doesn't speak. I'm not used to seeing him like this."Thanks for the burger," he blurts out. "It was delicious."

"Oh, you're welcome."

Are you freaking kidding me? Was that really all he wanted to say? No, I don't think so.

Erik blinks, then he suddenly gets up as if he's forgotten to do something. I remain in my seat with my mouth open, perplexed. He walks away and leaves without saying a word.

As usual, I clean up everything first before going to the small lobby. I take a look outside, hoping that I'll see Erik there even though I know that it's impossible. He must be at the library now.

"Hey, honey," my father calls out to me as he comes out of his room. "Did Erik leave already?"

"Yes, daddy," I reply as I'm about to go help him, but then I stop just in time. My father doesn't like me to hover.

"You think he's getting along okay with Mrs. Frye?" He sits on the couch and reads the newspaper.

"Well, he hasn't mentioned anything about work." I sit beside him, and he looks at me with concerned eyes.

"I'm worried about Erik, Claire." He scratches his chin and looks across the room, preoccupied with his thoughts.

"Dad," I chuckle, "are you telling me that you're worried about Erik because he might not be able to handle Mrs. Frye?"

My father gently shakes his head. "No, honey. I'm worried that he has this gnawing feeling inside of him."

"Gnawing feeling?"

"Yes," my father replies, still staring into the distance. "And I think it's eating him alive."

"Dad, what are you talking about?" At this point, I'm just too confused. Why can't he just tell me what he means and stop speaking in riddles?

My father sighs. "Never mind, honey." He puts the newspaper on the table and heads for the door.

"Where are you going, dad?"

"It's time for my daily exercise, isn't it?" he tells me with a smile. He waves a hand and leaves before I can say another word.

I can't believe he just left like that without answering my question. My thoughts go back to Erik, and I wonder what this gnawing feeling my father could be talking about. Maybe something happened to him in the past?

No, that is none of my business, and it's not like it's my place to ask. My place is here, with my father and brother, at our hostel. Speaking of the hostel, Erik has just paid two months' worth of rent.

Is he planning on staying here for good? No, it can't be. He probably just wants to extend his stay because he has other plans.

Maybe he still wants to do something, or maybe he's looking for something. Claire, what is wrong with you? As I said, it's not my business, so I should stop.

The front door slowly opens, and I get up thinking that it's my father. However, the person who comes inside is a young boy with black eyes and wearing a cap, who is almost the same age as my brother or maybe a little older.

"Can I help you?" I ask cheerily.

"Yes," he replies as he takes a look around the place. "I'm planning to stay in this town for a couple of days, and I'm looking for a room."

"Oh, that's great!' I say, relieved that he could be a potential guest.

"We have five rooms upstairs."

"Wonderful! Do you mind if I take a look at them first?" He looks at me, and it's like I'm immediately compelled to say yes.

"No, not at all. Come with me, and I'll show you the rooms."

He quietly follows me upstairs, and I show him the vacant rooms one by one. He seems to have taken an interest in the room that was previously occupied by Mr. and Mrs. Kim, maybe because it has a good view of the woods at the back. Once we're done, we go back downstairs, and he thanks me for the tour.

"Your rooms all look great and unique," he remarks. "Has this hostel been in your family for generations?"

"My father built it, actually," I answer, feeling proud. "He built it as a gift for my mother, and that was before I was born."

"That's so sweet," he smiles. "By the way, you said you have five rooms upstairs, but I saw six. Is someone staying there?"

"Oh, yeah. We have a guest there. A soldier."

"A soldier?" he asks. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry or anything..." His face turns red, and then he scratches his head.

"That's okay. But, yes. That room is occupied."

He nods and purses his lips as if he is not sure what to say. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but I'm still taking a tour of the town, and I still want to visit other places. I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm not yet sure if I want to stay in this particular area because there is still so much to see."

"No, problem. There are other places here where you can stay, and I hope you find the one that fits your preferences." How unfortunate.

"Thank you, miss..." he trails off.

"Just call me Claire," I reply. "And you are?"

"James." he offers his hand, and we shake hands before I walk him to the door. "Can I have your calling card, just in case?"

"Sure." I quickly go to the counter to get one card and give it to him. He bids me goodbye once more before finally leaving. As he walks away, my father arrives.

"Who's that?" he inquires.

"Oh, just someone inquiring about our rooms. How's your exercise?"

"Tiring," he answers curtly.

"Dad, please don't push yourself to your limit." I try saying that without sounding worried, but I fail.

"I'm not," he sighs, "and I won't." He goes back to his room, and I follow him.

"Yes, honey?"

"Dad, can I just go to the library really quick?"

My father instantly smiles. "Sure, Claire."

"I'm just going to borrow a new book," I say defensively. "You know, I'm already done with the one I have.

"Of course," he answers, still smiling.

"Why are you smiling like that, dad?"

"Am I smiling?" he asks innocently.

"You are."

"I'm just happy, honey."

"Because I'm going to the library?"

"Hey, you're the one who said that."

"All right. I'll go now," I say, rolling my eyes. "I'll be quick, dad."

"Take your time."

I head to the kitchen to make a simple ham and cheese sandwich. And then, I pour some sweet iced tea into a tumbler before heading out. I walk as fast as I can because I don't like my father staying in the house alone.

As I reach the library, I catch a glimpse of myself on the glass wall and realize that my hair is a mess. I quickly run my fingers through it, and even though it still looks the same, I decide just to ignore it. As I enter the place, I immediately see Erik behind one of the bookshelves.

"Hello, Mrs. Frye," I greet the librarian. "How are you?"

"Same old, same old," she answers nonchalantly. "What brings you here, Claire?"

"Oh, I just need to have a word with Erik, that's all."

She looks up from the papers that she's signing and gives me a questioning look. Sometimes, she really looks terrifying. I smile at her, but she doesn't return it.

"Sure. But make it quick," Mrs. Frye says as she goes back to signing the papers.

"Thank you, Mrs. Frye."

I slowly walk to where Erik is, and he stops in his tracks, his eyes wide. He gets up and wipes his hands in his back pocket before taking a step closer to me. Why does he always smell so good?

"Claire, what are you doing here?" He licks his lips, and I am so tempted to touch them.

"I just bought you a sandwich," I say, handing him the food I made. It's like preparing a meal is all I can do for him.

"Thank you," he replies. "You came all this way to bring me a sandwich?"

"Why not? Now you don't have to go out and find a place to eat for lunch." I think I may have overstepped a little.

"Thanks again."

"But if you don't like it, then I'll just bring it back home," I say as I try to take the food away from him. "This would be the first, and the last time, I promise."

"I didn't say that," he tells me, stepping away. "I'm grateful, Claire. And I wouldn't mind if you make or bring me food every day."

There he goes again. Every time he's being nice to me, I get mixed emotions. I'm not sure what to feel.

Before I say anything silly and embarrass myself, I turn away and start walking. I give him one last look, smiling, as I head outside. I run all the way back home and find my father sitting in the lobby.

"Hey, dad," I say, breathless.

"Hey, honey. Where's your book?" He asks, looking at my empty hands.

"Umm, I didn't see anything interesting there, so.."

"Nothing interesting, huh?"

"Yeah," I answer as I slowly walk backward towards my room. "Let me just take a shower, okay?"

My father only grins at me, and I slowly close the door to my room. Oh my god. I must've looked like an i***t.