"Are you feeling, okay?" Asked David, rousing Danielle from sleep.
She blinked herself back to reality and tried to focus on her husband's face peering down at her with concern as he sat on the side of the bed and began stroking her cheek.
"I didn't sleep much last night, I just needed a nap," she replied through a yawn.
"Well, it's nearly six o'clock, we should probably get started on dinner," he said.
Danielle groaned, the prospect of getting up out of bed and making dinner sounding particularly unpleasant. David sensed this and smiled.
"I can go pick something up, we can get Chinese from that place that Emily loves," he offered.
Danielle nodded enthusiastically and kissed David's hand in appreciation. Whatever deficits existed in their marriage, there was no arguing the fact that he was a kind and dutiful husband and father. It was moments like this that reminded her of why they had made such a good team while raising Emily.
"Great, I'll run and grab dinner and be right back. I haven't seen Emily yet, so she's probably sleeping off a late night too, let her know that I'll be back with dinner in a bit," he said before heading out of the room.
Emily. Danielle didn't actually even know if she was home, or if she was, whether her 'gentleman caller' was still in her room with her. While David was out of the house Danielle decided it was important that she find out. She stepped into the bathroom and after going pee, brushed her tousled blonde hair a bit and rubbed her eyes. She peered at herself in the large bathroom mirror and appraised what she saw.
Her baggy pink Victoria's Secret sleep shirt hung loosely to her thin frame and her fuzzy flannel pajama pants hugged her soft curves. She had always been thin and fit looking, even if she didn't really make working out a priority. Her pale skin had barely any indication of her 33 years aside from the slightest wrinkling at the corners of her eyes and lips, but she knew that she would still probably get carded for alcohol--if she ever bought any.
The light shade of her skin contrasted with her espresso brown irises and red wine lips, lips that jutted out thickly from her face in a perpetual pout that she had always been proud of. Her long, blonde hair was silky and fell in waves nearly to her breasts, which were a pair of pert B cups. She had won the genetic lottery and passed on her winnings to her daughter, which if what she heard earlier had been any indication, exposed her to make the same mistakes she made as a young woman.
She pushed those troubling and confusing thoughts out of her head and made her way toward her daughter's bedroom. As she approached her door, she felt her anxiety levels spike as she considered what she might see if she were open it, reaching her hand out cautiously to knock. She rapped her knuckles on the door softly and held her breath, waiting for a response and almost hoping that she had gone back out somewhere. But shifting noises and movement on the other side of the door dashed those dreams and Danielle knew that her daughter had been on her bed.
"Come in," came her daughter's reply after a few moments.
Danielle carefully turned the knob and then cracked the door open, just craning her neck to stick her head through without looking too closely at the scene.
"Your dad is picking up Chinese, he should be back with dinner in about 20 minutes," she informed, already closing the door, and intending on ending it right there.
"Come in, mom, it's okay," her daughter encouraged.
This time Danielle took a deep breath and steeled herself for what she was about to see, swinging the door open all the way and stepping inside. What she saw, however, was nothing that would cause any concern. Emily was sat on her bed, alone, drawing in one of her sketchpads. There were no ashtrays, used condoms, beer bottles or any other of her irrational fears come to life present in the room at all. The faintest aroma of cigarettes could be detected beneath the smell of lilac and jasmine coming from the candle that was lit on the bedside table, but nothing else was amiss.
When Danielle finally looked at her daughter more closely, she noticed her expression of confusion and knew that she must've been wearing something akin to poorly concealed terror.
"Are you okay?" her daughter asked.
Danielle did her best to smile and pretend that she hadn't been expecting the worse, but she knew she was busted.
"Sure, I just... I heard someone in here with you and I wasn't sure if you were alone," she replied.
Danielle's eyebrows raised in mild surprise before replying.
"Yeah, it was a friend from school. He was the one who drove me home, I wanted to let him know how things are going and what my plans are and everything," she explained.
Danielle nodded, thinking to herself how best to approach what was very obviously a lie.
"Just a friend?" she settled on.
Emily cracked a crooked grin, tilting her head slyly.
"Yes mom, he's just a friend," she assured.
Danielle wasn't completely naΓ―ve, she knew that 'friends with benefits' was a thing nowadays and her daughter was almost 19 years old. She was a rarity in that she had married and remained faithful to the first person she had ever slept with, and she knew that expecting her daughter to do the same was not realistic. Still, it irked her that her daughter didn't feel comfortable being completely honest with her.
She wanted to ask her if she was using protection or if she was on the pill but caught herself before this conversation devolved into something that they couldn't finish before her husband returned. Before she had a chance to follow up with any further questions, however, Emily asked one of her own.
"Think I have enough time for a cigarette?"
Danielle fought another urge to chastise her and instead replied with a more understanding approach.
"If you hurry, he should be back soon," she replied.
Emily practically catapulted off the bed and opened her bedside table drawer to grab her pack of Marlboro Red 100's before zooming past her down the stairs. Danielle followed her nicotine-crazed teenager to the back patio where she'd already lit her cigarette before she even had a chance to close the sliding glass door behind her.
"Careful honey, you need to remember to keep the door shut when you're out here so your dad can't smell it when he gets home. He'll have a cow if he thinks you're smoking," she scolded.