Finding Home by G.E.Wenner (simple e reader .txt) 📖

I walked into my house after school today and noticed something very strange. I had a message. Now I realize this may seem like noting to the normal sixteen year old girl, but for me this is something. A big something. See, I have no friends. It’s not by choice and not my fault at all, I swear. I’m just… different.

But more about that later, back to the message. I only have one friend and she lives in England. But she never calls anyway, we are pen pals. Speaking of which, I am waiting for a letter from her.

Back to the message. So yeah the only people I really ever talk to are my mother and Elizabeth. But my mother is never home and she certainly has no reason to ever call me. So I’m standing here completely dumbfounded by this message when it occurs to me to just play the damn thing.

It’s my father.

“Hi Annabella, it’s your father. (like I didn’t know it was him already). I have a question for you and would appreciate it if you would give me a call.”

Then do you know what he did? He left his cell number. I mean come on, what kind of a father needs to leave his cell phone number for his own daughter. I think that sums up our relationship quite well.

So now I understand that a normal teenage person would just call her father back. Not me. Remember when i made the comment about our relationship? Well, I wasn’t kidding. See a few years ago I would have been thrilled to hear from my father, but he would have had no reason to call because he would have still been living here. Then he had to go on a business trip.

So if you don’t know yet, business trips never end well. Okay so that’s not fair, maybe some do. But my father’s did not. I now have a stepbrother and stepmother half way across the country…see what I mean?

Now I practically never hear from him, but that’s ok. I don’t need him.

Ill just call him back later.

***

By the time I walked around the house to make sure I really did unplug every possible plug in the house this morning before I left for school, I had forgotten about my father’s call all together. My OCD tends to take over my life like that. And that’s also not to say I was not happy for the forgetfulness.

After the outlet extravaganza I decided it was time for a walk. I absolutely love to walk. I rechecked all the outlets, slipped into my yellow converse, checked the lock on the door several times and was on my way. I never really decide where I'm going before I walk, but nine times out of ten I end up at my lake.

Okay so maybe it’s really not my lake at all, but I have a nice secluded spot on the north Shore of Sandy Lake. The area was cleared out a long time ago and there is a large, flat boulder in the middle that I sit on quite often. It overlooks a beautiful part of the lake and when I stay there late enough, as the sunset fades into darkens, I sometimes can forget who I am and what my life is like.

Alright, enough of the sappy stuff. Right now I'm just excited to be going on a walk. But today I find myself heading in a different direction. I walk the hour into town and find myself in front of a twenty story office building. Go figure, it’s my mothers.

She is a defense lawyer, and a damn good one at that. But that is probably all thanks to my father. After he left us, she threw herself into her work. Now she is one of the most sought after defense lawyers in Canada. Good for her. Too bad she forgot she had a daughter in the process.

That’s ok; I'm good on my own.

Now, I almost never actually go inside this building. I know that must seem strange, but think about it. There is my mother, plus all of her colleagues in power suites, plus the really creepy receptionist at the front desk. So maybe she’s really not that creepy. And maybe she is tall and thin and blond. Any maybe that is the opposite of the way I look. And maybe that is why I don’t like her. But let’s just stick with the creepy thing I said for now. I mean, all things considered, would you really want to go in there? I didn’t think so.

But today I decide I will go in, it’s time for a change.

I walk up the twenty-six steps and open the huge glass doors. I walk right up to the receptionist, (yes the creepy one is still there), and ask for Sandra Tommels. She has converted back to her maiden name since, well you know.

Blondie tells me she is on the seventeenth floor and that she is in a meeting and “would I like to wait”? Sorry, can’t say I actually want to wait. I press the button for the elevator, and decide to take the stairs instead.

By the time I have reached the seventeenth floor, I have gone up 173 stairs. If you don’t know, then let me be the first to tell you that is A LOT of stairs! But at least now I am finally at the top. I walk over to Suite 201 and open the door. My mother is standing at the front of a large, rectangle table, talking to a good 15 suites. She doesn’t even look nervous. Wow, why didn’t I get that gene?

She noticed me enter in the back of the room, but no one else did, so I took a seat and waited.

“That is going to have to be all for one day. Think over what I have told you and we will meet again a week from today.”

Now everyone is getting up to leave and start to notice me. There are some whispers that may not be about me at all, but it’s just the fact that they saw me at begin with; it’s beginning to make me nervous. Now I'm glad that I’m not my mother.

“Annabella, what do you think you are doing here? I am at work! You cannot just barge in there anytime you like.”

“Yeah but mother-“

“No ‘yeah but mother’ me. Annabella, honey, you can’t just come in here anytime you want. If you want to see me during work, you must at least wait until I am done.”

“Next thing you know you’re going to tell me to make an appointment!”

“Actually, yes, that is a wonderful idea. Why don’t you go downstairs and make an appointment to see me sometime tomorrow. Have Juliet schedule an hour of my time tomorrow, we will get lunch.”

“Are you serious? Why can’t we just-“

“Annabella darling I need to be getting back to work now. I will see you tonight if you are not in bed when I get home. “

Yup. That’s my mother. Sweetheart isn’t she?

***

That was more than enough of that. I took the elevator down this time, now wanting to deal with the constant increasing number of stairs going through my head. I passed by Blondie without a word, not caring in the slightest about making an appointment to see my self-concerned mother.

I storm out the double glass doors and down the twenty-six steps. It’s time for the other love of my life, second only to my converse: chocolate.

On my way home, I stop at the local convenience store for two Reeses, two Snickers, and just for the sake of it, three Twix.

Time to go home. I walk up the front steps, kick my converse into the corner, check all the outlets and locks in the house, and head up the stairs to bed. Its not quite as lateas I would normally go to bed but I'm liking the ‘changing things’ theory. I think I’ll read for a little while. I pick up my own personal bible, Kissing Doorknobs, and start to read it for the thirty-second time. I break into my Twix and start to drift off…

When I suddenly am jolted awake, remembering that my father called earlier. Oh great, he’s not even in my life anymore and he is still managing to keep me awake. Ok so now I need to decide what to do. Do I call him? No. that would make too much sense. But do I not call him? Is that right to not call my father back? Well of course its fine, I mean this guy did leave us high and dry. Leaving us for a new life in sunny California. Oh forget him. I’ll call him tomorrow.

***

By the time I wake up the next morning I am running very late. I jump out of bed and rush into the bathroom , practically fly into the shower when I suddenly remember…its Saturday. And guess what? I don’t have to be to work for three hours.

Alright, now I'm frustrated. What am I going to do for the next three hours. Well I can tell you what I'm not going to do. I am not, under any circumstances, going to call my father. Not a chance. Not yet anyway.

So for those who may not know, I work at a retirement home. Retirement home is the name, caring for old people is the game.

Okay so maybe its not quite like it sounds. And don’t get me wrong, I really enjoy it. I have met