Stacey wandered down the sidewalk, through the commercial district of east Los Angeles. It seemed so odd to not have snow for Christmas. Even when she’d been in Montana, with that gang of racist goofballs, she’d had snow, though she hadn’t really had Christmas. Well, it had been Christmas, but a twisted version… she shook her head. She didn’t want to think about it now.
The girl was trying to do her Christmas shopping: it was December 14, and like it or not, Christmas was getting closer with each passing day. Her father, MacGyver, was at home, doing God-knew-what. He had become sad and distant as the holidays had approached, and this morning he’d been particularly irritable. It wasn’t like him. Stacey knew she’d quacked him off before she’d left, though she hadn’t done it on purpose… he’d ticked her off, she’d lashed out at him, and she’d left the houseboat in a huff, both of them in a bad mood.
“Honey,” he’d said to her as she was leaving, “you’d better grab your jacket. It’s kind of cold out today.”
“Oh, Dad, this is California. It’s not that cold, the thermometer says forty-five.”
“Yes, and I don’t want you getting sick right before Christmas.”
Suddenly, resentment had flared up in her. “Knock it off, Dad! I can take care of myself.”
He had suddenly become very quiet, but his eyes had glittered in anger… and then… a full-blown fight had ensued, the first one they’d had since he’d adopted her this past summer.
“You’re not my real dad! I don’t have to do what you say if I don’t want to!”
“Well, maybe I should have thought harder about adopting you. This has been a lot harder than I thought it would be.” His voice had turned pleading. “Stacey, I’m not very good at this parenting stuff. I’m doing my best, OK? Work with me here.”
In answer, she had left, slamming the door behind her. Her words weighed heavily on her. Mac was her ‘real dad,’ more of a dad in some ways than her own father had been. When she was growing up, her father, named Steven, had been a professional computer geek, and had been something of a workaholic. He wasn’t as bad as he could have been, she supposed, but he also had a hard time showing affection, and though she had loved him, they had never been as close as she would have liked. Her mom, Kim, was sometimes a little too close, and had also had a bit of a problem with alcohol. She wasn’t nearly as bad as the clowns who had supposedly adopted Stacey, but she had a tendency to drink a little more than was really good for her. Stacey had grown up an only child, and her mom was more like a big sister than a mother. This was her first holiday season when their deaths had really hit her, and it was harder on Stacey than she’d expected. Still, that was no excuse for saying what she had to Mac. She’d apologize… but he was so overprotective of her sometimes! She walked on, through the chilly wind.