Well, that's out of the way. He wasn't really sparing much thought to the situation, but he was expecting it to be more difficult with Salome, as much of a daddy's girl as she is--good to have it over with. Delilah's going to be thrilled. Hopefully the two of them meeting will go fine, because he could see Salome getting catty. But, then again, he could see any sixteen-year-old girl getting catty with her father's girlfriend.
Maybe he'll draw her something. He's been drawing mostly for Delilah recently, and so preoccupied with that damned portrait, Salome deserves something lovely. Especially if she's going to be expected to accept somebody new into her life.
He could see himself marrying this woman, at the very least, if not eating her alive. After all, he's already killed for her, and that was like the cracking open of a dam--once you go that far for somebody, everything else comes bursting out behind it until the idea of marriage is less offensive than it was when you were younger.
Digging around in the end table, Richard reclaims his seat and lights a cigarette, occupying his time with a book in his lap that he more or less stares at. It's hard to focus on reading, hard to separate the lines--he's had a hard time focusing on anything lately, but now, with Salome having a mope, and the sudden realization that the two girls meeting might not go so well as he could hope...well. It'll be fine. She wouldn't turn things into a production, his little girl knows better than that.
Dragging down once cigarette, then two, he glances up from his book at the ringing of the doorbell and pays, pleased to see that the contents of the bag look about accurate. He checks his watch--thirty minutes is enough time for a teenaged girl to finish being upset, right?
...Right?
God, who's he kidding. With a sense of ever-deepening dread, Richard climbs the stairs and knocks lightly upon the door. "Mein Spätzchen, food's here. How's the homework coming along?"
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Maybe he'll draw her something. He's been drawing mostly for Delilah recently, and so preoccupied with that damned portrait, Salome deserves something lovely. Especially if she's going to be expected to accept somebody new into her life.
He could see himself marrying this woman, at the very least, if not eating her alive. After all, he's already killed for her, and that was like the cracking open of a dam--once you go that far for somebody, everything else comes bursting out behind it until the idea of marriage is less offensive than it was when you were younger.
Digging around in the end table, Richard reclaims his seat and lights a cigarette, occupying his time with a book in his lap that he more or less stares at. It's hard to focus on reading, hard to separate the lines--he's had a hard time focusing on anything lately, but now, with Salome having a mope, and the sudden realization that the two girls meeting might not go so well as he could hope...well. It'll be fine. She wouldn't turn things into a production, his little girl knows better than that.
Dragging down once cigarette, then two, he glances up from his book at the ringing of the doorbell and pays, pleased to see that the contents of the bag look about accurate. He checks his watch--thirty minutes is enough time for a teenaged girl to finish being upset, right?
...Right?
God, who's he kidding. With a sense of ever-deepening dread, Richard climbs the stairs and knocks lightly upon the door. "Mein Spätzchen, food's here. How's the homework coming along?"