Preparing Breakfast

I hardly slept a wink. All night long, I listened for noises in the hallway. Even if I had milked Dirk dry, he would still be capable of sneaking into Sina's room. I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen.

Behind the wall, where the kids' room is, where our daughter—hopefully—sleeps peacefully and undisturbed, it stays quiet.

Exhausted, I wake up, drag myself to the bathroom, and then to the kitchen. On autopilot, I make breakfast for a family that isn't really a family anymore.

“Can I help?”

Sina's question pulls me out of my thoughts. I look at her. For the first time, I don't see her as a little child, as my girl whom I raised. I see a young woman, attractive, fun-loving. Open to new experiences.

It was hard enough to let her go to college, where I no longer know what she does or who she meets. But at least she comes home regularly to our safe haven, where I can take care of her.

And now? The safe haven it once was has become a trap. I myself let the monster in, fed it and let it grow.

The thought that Sina might find out what I've done makes my blood rush to my face. I look away so she can't read in my eyes the images that are flashing through my mind.

Fortunately, she doesn't seem to have noticed anything. Without waiting for my answer, she helps me set the table. It's almost like a normal family.

Casually, she asks, “Mom, do you know where my underwear is? I can't find any in my closet.”

Shit.

I feel dizzy. I hear the glass shatter on the floor before I realize I've dropped it. I quickly run to the broom closet and warn Sina not to step on the shards. I concentrate on sweeping the floor. I keep my hands busy while chaos rages in my head. What should I say? I can't very well tell her that I wore her panties and that Dirk puts them away afterwards. I don't understand what's going on myself. How could I even begin to explain it?

To get out of this predicament, I suggest, “Just buy some new ones.”

If I had known Dirk was listening, I would have rather bitten my tongue off.

“Good idea, I’ll come with you.” He appears in the doorway, grinning his cheeky Dirk grin.

No, I can't expect my daughter to buy her underwear with him supervising.

“Thanks, but that's not necessary. Sina's an adult, she can go shopping on her own,” I blurt out.

“Her underwear is none of your business,” I think to myself, feeling a lump forming in my stomach. If it's none of his business, I shouldn't have handed it over to him piece by piece.

My ears are ringing, so I only understand half of what he's saying. It boils down to him offering to pay for the purchases.

And Sina enthusiastically agrees.

For heaven's sake! I have to stop this.