The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon (4 page)

Ugh, no way can I just walk over next door.

Can I?

Glancing at my backpack that is still on the other end of the couch where I tossed it earlier, I think a shower might be in order. I can’t very well creep over their looking all disheveled. Especially if I have another run in with Chance. Just thinking about earlier makes a blush crawl up into my cheeks. I still can’t believe I was so startstruck, like I never saw a boy before or something.

Nice one Daria.

So that is what I do, shower and primp myself with the generic brand of soaps and such. Not having any other better clothing options, I stick with the jeans and swap out the t-shirt for a warmer one. When I knot up my damp hair, I know there is no other reason to keep me hiding out. Or from being a big chicken.

I already changing my mind and convinced this is a bad idea when I’m back at the Harris’s front door. Unfortunately, my hand has other things in mind since it’s knocking before I can flee. Yanking my hand back and clutching it my to chest tightly like it’s the enemy, I’m about to turn away when the door opens.

Standing before me, is a younger version of Mellissa or one that is roughly my age. They look exactly the same with the shoulder length light blonde hair, and short Lilith stature. The difference between them is that this girl has deep brown eyes. Like her mother, she radiates kindness and I’m not surprised when she smiles right away.

Looking me up and down without any judgment she says, “So you’re the new tenant huh?” Stepping aside, she holds the door open for me and gestures for me to come in “I’m Ashley, welcome to my humble abode.”

I go in.

“Um, I’m Daria.” I tell her back as she turns to shut the door.

She turns back to me still smiling and I can’t help fidgeting, while glancing away nervously. I’m sure I’m coming off as a complete weirdo or an extremely shady criminal. But I can’t stop. It’s like an inlaid response to something outside of my norm. I’ve never been around so many bright and shiny people before, it’s like I’m on overload or something.

I need to get used it though. Dinner hasn’t even started yet.

I haven’t seen Chance yet.

“You don’t have to be shy around us Daria.” She says as she starts down a hallway going slow enough that I follow “We like a bunch of wild animals here, so don’t hold back.”

She thinks their wild animals? Trying living with my family, they give the term new meaning.

I nod at her though, like I understand.

“I hear you met my brother earlier. He’s quite the handful, but don’t let him bother you either. His laugh is worse than his bite.”

I stare at her with wide eyes and blushing cheeks, as we turn to the right and cross through the nicely furnished living room. I saw it all earlier, but it still seems overly extravagant to me, but then everything is really. Plus, the idea that they all talked about my reaction to Chance takes all my thoughts. They must have thought I was pitiful. I am pitiful. How in the world am I going to get through dinner acting like that? I can so see myself spilling whatever we’re eating onto my lap. What a disaster this is going to be.

I nod again. She smiles. I cringe and try not to walk into a wall or something.

We’re about to enter the dining room, and I can hear Mellissa just beyond talking with a man that sounds like an older version of Chance. I instantly freeze, causing Ashley to stop too. She eyes me reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, Chance has other dinner plans tonight. So it’s just us civilized Harris’s for now. I know he can be a lot to take in, but really it’s nothing to be nervous about.” Her bright grin is back now as she backs into the dining room and she waves her arms for me to follow “Besides, it’s going to be a blast to have a girl my age living practically next door.”

A blast. Really? I’m so doomed.

She makes her way fully into the other room and I have no choice but to follow. At least Chance won’t be here, so maybe I won’t make a fool of myself. One can only hope. And I’m so hoping. One dinner can’t ruin my living situation can it?

I probably shouldn’t have even thought that.

I so want to bolt.

Like now.

Instead, I plaster a smile on my face when I step into the dining room. No reason to make these people think I’m really the head-case I know I am (Or to make them think it so soon anyways). I spot Mellissa right away. As she is currently placing a platter of carved meat (chicken maybe, or is it pork?) on the center of an already crowded table. And by crowded I mean like every spot, save the empty place seating’s, are covered in food.

My stomach growls at the sight of it.

Mellissa glances over to me, as she stands back up, and motions for me to come in. I was hovering just inside the doorway. My cheeks burn in a blush when I notice they are all watching me, with the same smiles. Trying to keep my own (kind of fake) smile steady, I pick up a seat across from Ashley at the large rectangular table. That’s when I see the man the voice so similar to Chance’s belongs to. His father.

Like Mellissa and Ashley, he too is watching me expectantly, at the head of the table. I have to wonder if I’ve already done something wrong. Maybe making myself fade in and out without trying? But one half attempt to check my senses tells me that no, they won’t forget me. This is something else. Like I’m some new breed of girl. In a way, I guess I am. Not that they know this of course.

“So this is the rabbit that we caught in our snare? I have tell you kiddo, you like you could fly away on an afternoon breeze.” He tells me with the same pleasant tone as his son, but with more of a bass to it.

Before I can try to say anything back over my throat that is suddenly closing up on me, Mellissa passes by him with a bowl of peas, and lightly smacks the back of his head. Like with her son, he simply grins and plays it off like it’s nothing. For which I’m finding weirdly strange. Not to mention the fact that he referred to me as an animal caught in a snare.

If they only knew.

“Craig, you be nice. Try not to offend our tenant before the first month.” Mellissa says looking admonishingly at her husband, as she takes a seat beside me placing her near him as well. “Or you’ll be the one to fly away on an afternoon breeze mister.”

“Oh now Lissa, you know I never offend. It’s against my nature. I simply pick. It’s a gift.” He retorts while leaning up to start digging into the platter of meat I’m now suspecting just might be chicken by its light color.

Ashley snort out a laugh, drawing my eyes to her.

“I wouldn’t call prying a gift dad.” She says with a mock glare lifting her plate for him to dish her some meat.

“That’s because you’re so sensitive, pumpkin. Like your mom.”

Watching the two of them, I get a sense of familiarity. It’s nothing I’ve ever felt before. Just being in this room with these people that are more close to one another, than I am to my own family, it makes my eyes burn. The urge to cry comes from nowhere, and I have to quickly squash it.

Who tears up at the sight of a dad picking on his daughter?

A girl that never had that. That’s who.

Mellissa leans up over the table and begins dishing out various foods, like potatoes and a multitude of vegetables and bread. I simply sit quietly and try to draw as little attention to myself as possible. This would be a whole lot easier if I weren’t dinning with the Walton’s, they are clearly talkers. And new people strike their interest.

Meaning me.

“Let’s see that plate kiddo, I’ll get you to fatten up with this hearty beast my wife cooked up.”

Still gazing around the table at all of them, I completely miss the fact that Craig is talking to me. For which I practically jump in my seat when they all turn to me waiting. Blushing even darker (as the blush I walked in here with hasn’t left) I quickly lift my plate to him. I watch with hungry eyes as he places quite the large amount of meat on it.

Is it just me, or am I imagining the resemblance to Hazel and Gretel again, with all the fattening up business? Looks like I’ve left the lion’s den, only to dinning with lion’s still. More domesticated lion’s obviously. But still, very strange.

With a full plate in hand, I gently place it back on the table. I’d love nothing more to dig in because it looks just that yummy, but I’m struck with the similarities between Craig and his son Chance. Both have the same mop of wavy dark hair, granted Craig’s does have a little gray mixed in. They are both surprisingly tall, and you can’t miss it even when the man sits down again. His eyes aren’t the same blue though. His or more like Ashley’s, a chocolate brown. It’s amazing that this family all hold a resemblance to one another, and it makes me wonder about my own.

It’s not something I ever really thought about, or wanted to really.

Until now.

Feeling odd, I pick up my fork and prepare to dig into this divine smelling food but Mellissa’s voice stops me cold.

“Who wants to say grace tonight? Ashley?”

The girl looks up from her plate with a frown and says, “Mom really, we’re going to do this again? Chance isn’t even here, so what is the point?”

“It’s gracious that’s why.” Craig says before Mellissa can, and then glances at me with a wink “And it sets a good example for you young heathens.”

“Heathens? You’re such an old fogie dad.” Ashley retorts back with a sly grin plastered across her face.

Mellissa is shaking her head at them like she is used to this display, but I’m still caught up with the whole grace thing. I’ve never been one to follow religion. Hello, demon here. I can only wonder what the ramifications this will have on me. I mean, as far as I know religion and demons don’t mix. So will grace, that is a prayer, hurt me? Like a vampire being shown a cross? I certainly hope not.

But I’m not evil, I have a soul.

That should count for something right?

Right?

While the Harris’s closed their eyes ceremonially, and place their hand up in the pose of prayer, I cringe. I don’t even bother mimicking them, what’s the point. Besides, I’m too busy waiting for whatever they say to send me bursting into flames or something. With that simple thought, I can feel my hackles rising. And I mentally prepare myself for a memory block. So much for my grand start over plan. Looks like it’s about to go up in flames.

Hopefully not literally.

Craig takes a breath, and I hold mine, as he speaks.

“Gods of football, bless this meal so eloquently prepared by my loving wife. We ask that you watch over our boy Chance as it gets closer to the big Homecoming game. And take special care with his throwing arm, he’ll need it. Thank you Gods, we praise you.”

By the time he finishes, my mouth is hanging open so wide, I’m sure a bird could fly in. Gods of Football? Seriously? This is new. I stay this way as they all begin to eat, like nothing weird just happened. Who prays for football? Not seeing any smoke or feeling flames on me, I’m just glad I didn’t light up like a cinder. The absurdity of it makes me feel lighter than air. I must have made a sound like a laugh, because Mellissa glances at me.

“I know what you must be thinking. These crazy Yankee’s praying for football, what have I gotten myself into? Am I right?” She says in her warm singsong voice.

Collecting myself, I take a bite of the food to keep from saying anything. Of course it’s weird, but it’s definitely welcome to me. After all, I’m a demon with a soul and with no clue if religion would harm me. So hey, who am I to stand in the way of people who pray for a good game.

I shake my head at her and mime a smile over my full mouth.

Ashley saves me from having to say anything, “That’s what I ask myself everyday mom. Where are my answers?”

She flutters her eyelashes at her parents, from what I can tell trying to feign innocence. Clearly it doesn’t work, because in the next instant Craig slams a fist onto the table and shouts at her.

“You speak Blasphemy young wretch, bite your tongue.” He says in a deeper gargled tone, with bright wide eyes that twinkle.

Then he crosses his eyes and mock glares at her.

She laughs. Mellissa laughs. I choke on a bite of chicken.

***

The laughter dissipates as I have a coughing fit, and Mellissa reaches over and pats my back gently but firm. A chunk of chicken that feels like a bowling ball (but is no bigger than the small bite I took) passes down my throat. I pull in a gasping breath and get handed a glass of something that feels like ice going down.

My eyes watered as I choked, and I can feel the wetness wanting to seep over my lids. I quickly wipe at them, none to subtlety, as I place the glass back on the table. Who are these people? Mellissa is right, what have I gotten myself into? A family that jokes and prays over something silly. I never thought I’d ever see such a thing. It makes my heart feel full. Like all these years it’s been empty. Waiting for the right people to fill it up.

I have been waiting for this. I just hope it lasts.

“Sorry about that kiddo. I forget my charm can come off a little strong to newbies.” Craig says gently.

Looking up from the plate I’m stirring food around, I find that he looks guilty for some reason. Oh right. I just almost choked. Well, not really. I didn’t even feel threatened. If I did, I’m sure Mellissa would have felt a zap when she patted my back.

That would have been awkward.

I shake my head and say, “No it’s fine Mr. Harris. I don’t mind.”

“Ah, she speaks.” He tells me with his grin returning.

I smile back.

“Of course she speaks. She’s just shy, right Daria?” Mellissa says softly to me “Which is nothing to be bothered by, it’s very endearing.”

I beam at this. Someone thinks I’m endearing? That’s new. Ashley scoffs across from us, and pointedly looks at her mother.

“And what is that supposed to mean mom? That I’m not endeared because I’m not shy?”

“Of course not love, everyone is endearing in their own way. Yours just happens to be bubblier than others.”

The two of then stare at each other intently. So much so, that I feel like I’m missing something. Like a piece of a puzzle that only they would understand. That only a mother and daughter would understand. All my mother and I ever shared is a cool indifference.