~Tahlia.

A cruel irony it was in my mind that the very night my grounding ended, a series of aggravating circumstances intervened, thrusting me back into a sort of isolation all over again. Going on a nice, friendly outing with Keene wouldn't be possible because of the unresolved issue between us. Declan also was off limits to me by my mother's prohibition. And though I had been invited to a few tea parties with local ladies, I declined each one. I knew their shallowness, and I was hardly in any mood to look over Gab magazine's picks for the "Top 10 Handsomest Men Alive" and debate which one outshined all the others.

In all fairness, my family's company remained at least somewhat comforting. Though at many points, I eyed my father with suspicion and my mother with veiled displeasure, my brothers clearly did what they could to keep my spirits high. Not that they completely succeeded, but they did try. Accompanying them on bike rides, beach walks, and their favorite—trips to the arcade—did some good, and I appreciated the time to bond with them.

So one fairly sunny afternoon found me curled up in bed with a rather thick novel in my hands. It wasn't one of the romances I read regularly, and not even a story of school drama that would entertain me with its twists and turns. Instead, the book was one Mother had bought me years ago to distract me from the fact little ten-year-old me missed her dad. A fantasy novel about a boy who could talk to animals—it admittedly was based on a laughable premise, but it was the escapism that drew me to the book again and again.

When too much stress and too many questions came my way at once, I would often take refuge in my bedroom and read about the animal-whispering boy and his adventures. The utter lack of any ties to reality within the pages assisted this Paige in avoiding her reality.

Then reality called me back in the form of a sharp rap on my door. I sighed as I slipped a bookmark between the pages I'd been reading and called for the person knocking to come in. If it were my brother Andrew asking for specifically one of my pens again, I would have no choice but to wring his neck.

But instead, Father's broad form filled the doorway. He stepped in with what struck me as a careful smile. Like a zookeeper approaching an agitated animal, perhaps.

He didn't speak at first, just bent over to me and smoothed my hair back to plant a kiss on my forehead. After a second's hesitation, I craned my neck to peck his rough cheek.

"I missed you at breakfast this morning." Father finally spoke, "I shouldn't have been so late, but I had an urgent report to send out to my commander, and 'I was eating breakfast' would't have quite cut it."

I nodded and flashed him a compassionate smile. "It's fine. I'm sure it's nice to serve from the comfort of home instead of out on the front lines."

A distant look crossed his eyes for a moment. "Certainly. Anyway, I'd like to make up for the time I didn't spend with you this morning, Tahlia. You wouldn't turn me down for getting a bite of ice cream together, would you?"

"Of course not! I'd love that."

"I'll meet you downstairs, then."

I returned my father's grin as he stepped out of the room. Then I wasted no time in getting dressed and making a quick stop in the restroom to check my hair. Satisfied with that, I hoisted my purse over my shoulder and reconvened with Father on the bottom floor.

After saying our farewells to the rest of the family, Father's stately blue sedan welcomed us inside its leathery interior. Stuttering to a start, the engine gradually crescendoed to a full roar, and then eased into a hearty purr. Father waited for a few cars to pass before easing out, away from the curb and onto the street.

Neither of us spoke for a time. On my part, my eyes lingered on the passing scenery outside my window, our affluent residential neighborhood giving way to the city proper. The people milling about Silverport's streets did so with a cheery air that brought a smile to my face.

We rolled to a stop at a red light, and at that moment, Father's large hand gripped my shoulder, an effective way to snatch my attention. My questioning gaze found a certain earnestness to be found in his, which only sparked more questions.

"I know I haven't said anything about it these past few days," he started carefully, "but you've been having a rough time of things lately."

The thought flashed across my mind to take this opportunity to strike. To lay out my extreme suspicions regarding his dealings with Keene over the years. But just as quickly, I opted to hold my tongue and allow him to state his case. Better he confess at his own pace and save some of his integrity, than have me drag it out of him.

"You could say that." I finally replied.

"This is a time in your life you should be feeling loved and happy. I'm sorry you have stress and vexation instead."

"I want to ensure we're on the same page here. I know what I'm dealing with, but what is it you think I'm dealing with?"

Father looked away to focus on driving, since the light had turned green. "I heard about Keene."

"And...?"

"Suffice it to say, I'm as surprised to hear that as you must have been."

I squinted. "But how? Surely he asked you."

"He didn't. The first I heard about any of this was from your mother the morning after it happened."

"But ... that doesn't make any sense to me."

The car decelerated slightly as Father let another car merge into his lane from a parking spot. He took the opportunity to throw a quick glance my way. The genuine concern written across his face began to tear down my theories of him being involved in some sort of conspiracy. Strange as things appeared, Father had never been one to trick and deceive.

Not that I knew of, anyway.

"What's on your mind, Tahlia?" he asked.

"Well, when I asked Keene whether he'd asked your permission, he never gave me a straight answer. All he said was that he wasn't allowed to say anything one way or another on that."

"That's strange."

"Which is why I could only assume one thing. If he couldn't say anything about it, then someone had prohibited him from doing so. Meaning..."

"He had to have talked to someone about it." Father finished, pausing afterward to contemplate. "I would've thought the same if I were in your shoes."

"So, if he didn't talk to you, did he just say that to be deceitful?"

"Probably."

"I need you to help me, Dad." I said, "I don't know what to do here. What can I possibly do with Keene now?"

He didn't answer right away. Whether because the sharp left turn he made at our next intersection took much concentration, or he was mulling over a reply, I couldn't guess.

"It's pretty clear you're not interested in Keene like that, right?"

"Not really."

"Not really ... interested? Or...?"

"I'm not interested in Keene like that, yes. He's fun to be around, and he loves a good adventure, but there seems to be no future in that man's eyes."

Father took another peek at me, this time looking thoughtfully impressed. "You've thought this through already, I can tell. I'm not sure what help you need from me."

"How do I proceed, is what I'm asking. I'm almost certain I'll simply turn him down, but is it even possible to carry on in friendship as if this never happened?"

"Personally, I don't think I could. But that's your decision. Whatever you decide on, I'll support you, got that?"

This reminder of my father's firm love stirred a warm feeling in my heart, and with a grin, I reached over to pat his shoulder. He briefly returned the smile before swinging into a parking lot and gracefully parking the car behind the ice cream shop.

"Listen," he spoke as he killed the engine, "there's something else I needed to talk to you about."

"What is it?"

"There's one man who did bother asking my permission to take you on a date yesterday."

I looked up sharply. "Declan?"

"You knew he was planning to ask, didn't you?"

"Well, yes. He apologized for not having done so in the first place, and then asked if I'd like him to make things right."

A smirk crossed my father's face. "He seems to begin a lot of conversations with apologies."

"I mean ... he doesn't mean to hurt anybody, so he's sensitive to that sort of thing."

"Look at you, defending him already."

"I'm merely setting the record straight!" I retorted through laughter.

"Of course you are. I told him he could, so be prepared for that. And listen, harmless as he may seem, I want you to be careful, okay? I don't want anything happening to you."

"I promise."

"Good. Now, let's get some ice cream, shall we?"

I readily assented, so we made our way out of the car and down the path alongside the shop to enter through its front door. My spirits had lifted significantly. It turned out the trifecta of my Father's company, the news I had a date with Declan to anticipate, and the promise of ice cream made for a mood-lifting elixir. 

* * * * * 

A/N: It's been a while since I tacked an author's note onto the end of one of these suckers, so I apologize for that. Life's just been busy, and I've had to favor getting the chapter out at all over sending it with a little note at the end. (Some of you author-note-skippers probably missed nothing, and I'm ashamed of ya'll. 😝)

But anyway, I'm back, and I hope you enjoyed that chapter! If so, please remember to vote and comment! 

For our random question of the day, what's your favorite month of the year, typically? 

(I haven't thought about this before myself, but maybe March or April? I like winter a lot, but there's something to be said about the beginnings of spring. The birds just starting to sing their songs, the blooming of flowers...there's even a certain smell in the air that tells you even though it's cold now, spring is on its way. I love that.)

Have an awesome weekend, and I hope to see you in next week's update!