The Splintered Dreams

Khaat made real hot chocolate, not conjured--using farm fresh milk, not supermarket processed. Off the Lupin farm. It made the hot chocolate rich and thick and creamy, and she always made it very chocolatety. She topped it with freshly made whipped cream and poured 6 mugs. She called her mother who came and delightedly collected four of them, one for her and one for Robert, and one for Jessica and one for Jack. "You make the best hot cocoa, Khaat," her mother smiled, "Always have. Thank you, dear. " Khaat set the last two mugs on the table, one in front of Cordell and one for herself. "Try that," Khaat said.

"Yes. Just finishing," she said, starting to feel achy herself now. It was reminding her that she needed to go stretch out too. She finished her cocoa and sent her mug to the sink with a flick of her fingers. "I am starting to feel tired. I think, if you don't care, I'll head to my room. It's the door at the end of the opposite hallway, if you need anything. My parents room is the secon on the right in the same hallway. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, in this house, I'd say it makes you normal," Khaat laughed. She took him down the left hallway to his room to his door. "Well, here you are safe and sound." She pointed back down the hallway the direction they'd come from. "Keep going straight as far as you can go that direction. My door is the one at the very end. Does that help? And about halfway down that hallway, you'll find the kitchen again on your right and the living room on your left. Just keep going from there. Daddy's room is two doors down from the kitchen on the right, and mine is on the end. Got all that? And whenever you get up is fine. There is no set breakfast time around here. It'll fall into its own rhythm the longer you're here. Sleep well, Cordel. I may see you in the morning, if Ihaven't left for work yet."

Khaat was heading back to her own room, too tired to go back, and knowing that was full well what her father had planned. As she passed their open door, she heard her father call to her. She went in and saw him sitting in his favorite chair, setting aside one of the newspapers he'd bought. "Yes?" she asked. "Come in, Dear. I want to talk to you a moment," he said. Khaat went in, and he motioned her to sit on the bed across from him. "What's up?"
"I'm going with you," he said quietly, "That's not open to debate." "Daddy?" she frowned. "Oh, please," he sighed, "Please don't insult my intelligence, Khaat. And don't try me. You know better." Khaat sighed heavily. "Must I explain myself?" Robert asked, looking over his reading glasses at her. "No," she replied softly, leaving. "Good night," he called after her.

She went into her room, waved her hand to turn on the lights, and sat down on the sofa, and waved her hand again to start the fire in the fireplace. "Uncle Remus," she sighed, wishing he was there with her tonight, "What on earth did I do to make him not want me?" Her head pounded--still. She began to wish she had had her father fix that, but she wasn't going back to ask him . She was not happy with him, and she was tired. She sat staring into the fire, feeling lonely and lost.

Khaat was just finishing dressing when she heard his call She had chosen trim black slacks--well, as trim as they could be for someone almost 3 months pregnant, and she chose a black tunic style top with black embroidered trim, and black boots. She added just a bit of perfume and then opened the door. "Good morning," she said. "So, how are you feeling today? Do you have your letter for me to take care of for you?"