Dreams Or How I Live My Life in Daydreams

Thank You

Fidgeting and with a tremor in her voice, Autumn broke the news to her parents.  In hurried sentences, she told her parents about the GoFundMe campaign and the amount raised. When she finished speaking, her parents stood speechless, their mouths gaped open.

After a long minute, her father strode over to her and wrapped his arms around her, enfolding her.

Quaking, he wept against her ear. "I'm sorry you felt obligated to do this," he blubbered.

Autumn froze.  She stared into her father's anguished eyes, his morose response killing her.

The donation wounded his pride. 

She swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth.  "I know it was wrong to eavesdrop on your conversation," she said, her voice shaking. "I'm not sorry for trying to help you."

"This isn't your responsibility," Ashton said strained, his forehead creased and cheeks flushed. "We're the adults. It's our job to provide for you."

Autumn held up her hand. "Just stop, dad! This is a blessing. Can't you see that!"

She ran past him and bolted up the stairs.

"Autumn!" Ashton called after her. Sobbing, she ran into her room, shut the door, and flung herself on her bed. The mattress dipped further.

Instead of thanking her now that they have a little extra cash, her father shamed her for doing something any reasonable person would do. She couldn't win for losing. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she buried her face in her pillow, her thoughts her only company.

The hardwood flooring creaked, footsteps padding down the hallway. "Autumn," Abby said, knocking at the door. Her mother's soft-spoken voice drew Autumn out of her pity party. Her head jerked up. "Yeah," she rasped.

Easing the door open, the hinges squeaking, Abby stood in the doorway of the shadowed room, leaning on the doorjamb.

"Your father isn't mad at you."

Autumn righted herself. "You could have fooled me," she mumbled.

"It's just your dad has a lot of—-"

"Pride," Autumn interjected.

Abby wagged her finger. "Now, now," she chided. She flicked on the light switch. Autumn grimaced at the sudden brightness.

Her vision adjusting, she lifted her eyes to her mother towering over her, her lips pursed and brows knitted.

"Your dad and I don't want you to feel as though you have to take on our struggles," Abby said, her turquoise eyes exuding warmth contrasting the worry lines on her face. "We appreciate what you've done. Honestly, it's a Godsend."

She clasped her hands together, weighing her words carefully. "We don't want you to worry yourself over these things. Your dad and I can handle it."

Autumn dropped her eyes. It was no use trying to reason with them. She fisted her hands.

"C'mon," Abby said. "Dinner is just about ready."

Autumn rose to her feet. "Okay," she said, following her mother out the door. Walking side by side, they descended the stairs in companionable silence.

The mood at the dinner table was tense. Even Ace wasn't in a talkative mood.

The tension unbearable, Autumn excused herself, after finishing her meal, and headed back to the serenity of her room. Her phone flashed a missed call notification.

Unlocking her phone, she dialed the number back.

"How'd it go?" Nara said anxiously. 

"As expected," Autumn replied. "That bad?" Nara said. "I don't know why I expected it to be different," Autumn said. "Things are weird right now." 

"I'm sorry to hear that," Nara said.

Autumn heard a horn honking, followed by a heated exchange, expletives flying.

"Sorry to cut this call short. I'm on my way to the store to pick up some dog food. I'll call you back later, okay."

Autumn nodded. "Okay."

She punched the button, ending the call.  Wistful, she stared out her window. Vestiges of the fading sunset edged the horizon in vibrant colors of violet and tangerine.

She imagined herself in overalls standing in front of an easel, the celestial sphere her canvas, as she dipped her paintbrush into the palette smeared with a rainbow of watercolor paint. Her fingers, face, and clothing stained, she worked on her masterpiece; the colors coming alive in vivid color catching the brightness of the sunlight, scorching her retinas.

Blinking her eyes, dotted with speckled spots, she opened the GoFundMe app to compose a thank-you message to her donors. Something nagged her. The anonymous donor has to be someone she knows. Nara even alluded to it. Maybe that was why the redhead acted so strangely. She is in cahoots with them. Her assertion that the campaign would work was telling too.

"Maybe I'm overthinking it," she said aloud.

She shook her head. She wasn't overthinking it. Her eyebrows flew up, her eyes wide as saucers. The one person who could have donated such a large amount of money was none other than Maddox Zachary.

The more she thought of it, the more certain she was. Her mind raced. Maddox did nothing without an ulterior motive. What did he want out of this?

To get the answers to her questions, she would confront the prankster tomorrow at school.