Graffiti Girl // Michael Clifford

|| 10 ||

You say don't act like a child. But what if it's a father I need?

«Scars» Allison Iraheta

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"Hey, dad!" I call through the apartment.

"In here!"

I walk through the hallway into the living room. My dad is sitting on the couch in front of the TV.

"Oh, come here. You have to see this!" he calls me over. I plop down next to him and cuddle into his side. He puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close.

"What're we watchin'?"

"It's this series all about the American spies in the Civil War. They had this whole ring of people using codes and ciphers behind enemy lines. It's really cool," he laughs and I roll my eyes. My dad is from America... and a geek... but in the best way.

"Sounds cool." I rest my head on his shoulder and get comfy. We sit there and spend the next three hours binge watching the series. Once it's around seven I stand up off the couch.

"Where you off to? We still have three more episodes of the season."

"I'm gonna go start on dinner and get some of my homework done. Any requests?"

He looks up and hums. "Hmm... Food," he says definitively. I scoff and roll my eyes at him.

"You're a lot of help, dad. I'm making lemon sautéed chicken. You want capers on it?" I ask, making up my mind for the both of us.

"Yes please." He smiles.

I laugh and go to the kitchen through the swinging door. After turning on my music and plugging in my headphones, I open the freezer and pull out two chicken breasts. One thing about my dad's house--if it isn't chocolate, frozen, or mine, it goes rotten.

Or grits. He lives off grits.

I set them down on a paper towel to defrost and grab the single pan that resides in this place. Yes, there is literally one pot and one pan. But he doesn't really need more I suppose. Although the one who cooks his meals--me--wouldn't mind a few more options. I splatter some coconut oil across the surface and go to grab the other ingredients.

Once I have everything organized on the counter and checked that the chicken has thawed just enough, I turn on the stove and listen as the meat sizzles in the oil. I let it sit for a minute before flipping it and letting it sit a few minutes more. Once both sides are browned enough that they will keep the moisture in, I place them on a baking sheet and stick them in the oven. I set the timer and lower the heat on the stove as I start on the sauce. I add in the flour and lemon juice first. I look over to my ingredients and realize I forgot to grab the white grape juice and vinegar. I grumble and walk over to the cabinets. Technically the recipe calls for white wine, but there's no way in hell I'd let wine--or any other type of alcohol, for that matter--in this house.

I know my dad still uses other things to get his mind off his depression, but he already got to have his fun with alcohol in his twenties, and already went through AA to fix his fun. I don't know what he's using right now, and I honestly don't want to. He doesn't do it around me and he sure as hell doesn't do it around Hayden. He keeps it secret from us and I let him. Whatever it is seems to be less than alcohol, or at least less addicting. I'll keep it that way by forbidding alcohol within his walls. I pay for a quarter of his rent and that's one of the rules I set up from the very beginning. I think it's supposed to be the other way around with who is keeping who from booze--the dad or the teenage daughter.

I grab the bottles and stir them into the mix. I move it around a bit as it simmers and evaporates the excess liquid, leaving only the flavorful stuff. I pour in some capers as well as some of the juice from the can and wait until it too burns off the extra. I hear the timer go off and pull the pan from the oven, checking its temperature before turning off the heat. I put the breasts in the sauce for a minute to soak before putting them on plates and pouring the liquid from the pan over them both. I place them in the microwave so they don't get cold while I roast a handful of pine nuts in the leftover grease. I sprinkle them on top. I heat up some leftover pasta from the fridge and put some on both plates.