He regretted it instantly. David thought he had self-control, he'd told himself that nothing was going to happen, but who was he kidding? Maybe he was just as bad as Doctor Gilmore.
The knock had shaken him from his reverie, and, almost by reflex, he'd invited whoever it was on the other side of the door to enter.
It had been his father, Steve. No longer was the older man dressed as Kayla, no longer did he act the part. When Doctor Gilmore had released David, he must have released the rest of the town as well. A warm smile was on the patriarch's face as he sat down on the bed and spoke to his son.
"That was a weird one," David's dad said through a chuckle, "The day my town turned into Kayla... sounds like it should be the title of some 50's B movie."
David smiled. His dad always knew what to say. They'd always had a great relationship, unlike most of his friends and their fathers. David's dad was a warm, accessible father, a role model.
"Not that I'd mind living in a town full of cheerleaders," Steve continued, "just not as one of them!"
That elicited a laugh from David. A laugh, and then something else. Some sort of twinge. Something unfamiliar.
"Oh come on, Dad, you looked very fetching in that outfit," David teased his father.
"You flatterer," David's dad laughed, "What do you think the doctor's going to do next?"
"He just told me he was going to leave us alone for a while," David said, bending the truth.
"Well that's excellent news!" David watched his man jump up from the bed in joy, "With that guy in charge, who knows what might happen next!"
"Yeah," David said through a forced smile, "It's pretty great." I just have to keep my thoughts clear. Gilmore may have given me control, but I have to make sure he's not controlling me.
Even though David was smiling, Steve could sense something was up. It was part of what made him a good dad, being able to see beyond his kids' expressions, knowing when something was bothering them.
"You okay son? You still seem a bit worried."
David realized it was showing through. His dad could always tell. "Yeah. It's just, things have already gotten so weird."
"I know what you mean. How can we really trust Gilmore at his word? I'm not sure, but for now I think we just need to relax a bit. Things are back to normal, after all."
Even though David knew better, his dad's words helped. It seemed like his dad always wanted to help... always... help...
David blinked a few times and felt a shiver. His mind had wandered for a moment but he couldn't quite grasp what he'd been pondering. He shook it off as some lingering exhaustion from the Kayla episode, and looked up to see his father now milling around the edges of his room. He had picked up a pile of dirty clothes under his arm and was straightening some of the things on top of David's dresser.
"Uh, dad? What are you doing?"
Steve turned back to face his son. "Sorry son, I just noticed that this room is a mess. I was just trying to tidy up a bit."
David furrowed his brow. Yeah, his room wasn't the cleanest, but he was a grown man - his parents didn't normally make a fuss of it, and he was certainly capable of straightening up on his own.
"You don't really need to do that, Dad. I can take care of it myself."
Steve frowned. "Oh, okay." David was surprised at his father's disappointment.
"Not that I don't mind the help. But we've all been through a lot. Why don't we take a break?"
"Oui, monsieur. I'll just get this laundry started." And with that, walked out of David's room with an armful of laundry.
David sat, stunned. Was that French?
