'Did you have a good day?'
'Yeah, not bad. I aced my history test today.'
'You rock, girl.' My mom grabbed me in a hug until I could feel my ribs nearly crack, and my eyes bulged. 'You’re so smart.' She kissed my forehead before buzzing upstairs to grab her shoes.
Shaking my head with a grin, I dropped my bag on the couch, and headed to the kitchen for an apple. I was starving.
'I’ll be in the ER tonight, honey,' she yelled from her bedroom.
'Okay,' I yelled back, searching through the fridge to see if my mom had bought that caramel I loved to dip the apple slices in. Bingo!
'So if you guys need anything, just call the 188 extension.' Suddenly my mom was behind me, grabbing her purse from the coat hanger next to the door leading to the garage. I looked at her.
'God, no wonder you’re so skinny. You don’t stop for a minute.' She grinned.
'No time. I love you.'
'I love you, too.' She opened the garage door, hitting the button for the large garage door opener, and closed the door to the house. I could hear the Outback’s engine roar to life as I cut my snack into slices, perfect for dipping.
Taking the entire cutting board to the table, I sat down and began to eat, looking around the small table that sat two in the kitchen. Our full-sized dining table was in the dining room just off the kitchen. Me and Chris used to color in our coloring books at this table. I looked at the clock on the microwave; he should be home soon from football practice. The little slug was a Freshman at Winston High this year, and was so proud of himself for making the team his first time out. I have to admit, though I never would to him, I was proud.
My mom had left the mail on the table, and so I grabbed it, searching through for something to do as I ate. Never knowing why, especially after all the years of martial arts, I had to have something to keep my interest. My mom used to say I was just like a little jumping bean, never able to keep still.
Bill, bill, bill, ads for County Market. My eyes narrowed when I saw the return address. Rick Littman. Why the hell was there a letter from my father in here? I looked to see where he was now, NM. Where is that, New Mexico? What the hell is he doing there?
My fingers burned to rip that sucker open and see what he had to say, but it wasn’t addressed to me, and wasn’t my business. To take my temptation away, I slid it under the stack of mail. You know, out of sight, out of mind. Yeah, right.
The front door opened, the screen door slamming shut.
'Don’t slam the door, moron. How many times does mom have to tell you?'
'Shut up. What’s for dinner?' Chris dropped his football equipment on the living room floor, and sauntered into the kitchen. He looked more like our mom, medium brown hair and brown eyes. I had gotten the blonde hair and green eyes from our father, a.k.a. the sperm donor.
'Well, funny that. Mom told me she wants you to make it.' I grinned, licking the apple juices off the knife I had used on my snack.
'What?' he turned to look at me, milk carton halfway to his mouth. I nodded. 'Yup. She said how will you make anyone a good husband someday if you don’t know your way around a kitchen.'
'You don’t know your way around it.' He drank, then slammed the container back onto the fridge shelf.
'You wish. Anyway, I’m off to start studying. She left instructions on the counter.' I hurried out of the kitchen, bounding up the stairs two at a time.
My room was filled with everything that was me. A huge poster of Albert Einstein hung over my computer. A lava lamp was my bedside lamp, and of course a poster of my hero, Han Cha Kyo, on the back of my door. He was a Tae Kwon Do master who had achieved 9th Dan, highest honor in Tae Kwon Do. He was the Grand Master. My Sabum Nim had been devastated when he’d died in 1996. All my ti’s from white up to my black belt, were folded over the mirror on my dresser.
Of course one of my biggest accomplishments was the three shelves holding my collection of Beanie Babies next to my closet. Hey, every girl has her vice.
I plopped down on my floor, clicking the stereo on first, then spread out all my books and papers. Pencil in my mouth, I began to study and work on my pre-calc homework, and started on my psychology project. I hated psych, but had no choice but to take it. It all made no sense to me. How do you feel about your mother. Who cares? It wasn’t due until the end of the semester, but I figured I’d better start on it now before I let the Procrastinator overtake me.
'I’ll be back,' I muttered in my best Arnie impression.
As the music played on, I wrote down questions, answering more, until all my math was finished, and I could fully concentrate on my psych. Mrs. Fields wanted us to do a project where we compare and contrast. Compare and contrast what?
With a sigh I sat back against the side of my bed, looked out the window. The sun was beginning to sit low in the sky, the bright, intense rays of sundown nearly blinding me. I was shocked to see it was nearly six.
'Yo, dipshit! Dinner!' Chris yelled from downstairs. I grinned at my cleverness, and tossed my pencil aside to go eat.
* * *
The shrillness of the bell hurried everyone along to their next class, the chatter, hurried footsteps and slamming metal locker doors nearly deafening as I made my way to AP English with the ever nutty, ex- hippie Mrs. Graham. Though I didn’t much care for the subject, with her you couldn’t help but learn and enjoy yourself. Her soft spoken way, but intelligent and insightful way of looking at writers and literature was refreshing and amusing. If my passion wasn’t so strongly set in science and medicine, I may have tried a different path, with English a stop on the way.
The walk home today was even colder than the day before, the tale-tell signs of winter with the infant stages of leaves turning. It would come early this year for sure. One thing I have to give my father credit for. Before he and my mother split when I was eleven, he would take me out and we’d go look at all the trees and plants around this time of year. He taught me what to look for when the seasons began to change.
It would be a cold bike ride to work, that was for sure. When I got off at seven it would be even worse. Definitely time to pull out the sweaters.
'Hey, honey. How was your day?' My mom sat on the couch reading the newest Reader’s Digest.
'Hi.' I plopped down next to her, her arm automatically reaching around to play with my hair, my head going to her shoulder. 'My day was okay. Long. You?' My mom leaned her cheek against the top of my head.
'It was okay. My only day off this week with Vicki quitting. I absolutely refused to be productive today. I don’t understand why they think they don’t have to hire any more nurses when one quits. I mean, do they honestly think we all can cover for one less body?'
'I’m sorry, mom. They’re rich assholes who care about the almighty buck instead of their employees or patients.' My mom took her head from mine, looking at me.
'How on earth did you get so pessimistic?' I grinned with a shrug. 'Well, you are right, though.' She sighed. 'Norman is after me again to go work for him in his private practice. The money wouldn’t be as good, but the hours would be a lot better.'
'Well,' I pulled away from her so I could look into her tired face. 'If it comes down to keeping your sanity or making the big bucks, I don’t really see the choice, you know?' She smiled, hugging me.
'Go get a snack. Made fresh brownies.' My face automatically brightened.
'Ghirardelli?' She nodded. 'Score!' I hopped up, nearly tripping on my face in my haste to get my hands on the chocolate.
'So what’s your plans for tonight?' I held up a hand, my mouth too full of the sweetness from the cocoa bean to answer. My mom walked over to the counter to get herself a cup of coffee.
'I have to go in to work. Marty called off.'
'Oh. Well, why don’t you take the car tonight? It’s getting too cold for you to ride. The last thing I need is a sick Andrea on my hands.'
'Thanks. I really wasn’t looking forward to it.' Leaning against the counter, we were both quiet for a moment, me eating, her sipping. 'Where’s Chris?'
'Over at Brian’s, that new family that moved in. He’s become pretty good buds with him.' Shrugging my
