“Mom!” Bradley entered the kitchen next, sans his forbidden girlfriend, and gave us all pats and grins until he reached my mother, who he hugged fiercely. “How are you, Mom?” It was the same concern Alexis had shown, which both comforted me and worried me. But today was not the day we would try and get her to crack her well placed stoicism where my father’s death was concerned. It was a special time for us all to be under the same roof and I relished in it. An hour later, and with the arrival of the rest of the clan, we dined on a five star breakfast courtesy of my amazing mother, with only a hint of my help.
I enjoyed cooking, but noted having to do it constantly when I wasn’t in the mood would ruin it for me. I mentally crossed it off of my list of possible career choices.
Sighing heavy, I sipped my extremely strong Bloody Mary and munched on my mother’s rosemary baby potatoes while looking absently around the house. Our family home was absolutely beautiful, and it was massive as well. It was a colonial style, country home complete with old fashioned shutters, and I’d always hoped to own one like it one day. I’d begged my mother after my father’s death not to sell it, for selfish reasons. I never really told her why, but I think she knew deep down I’d hope she’d keep it in the family. Somehow, I felt like it was the last piece of my father I had left. I sat in the expansive kitchen at the table thinking that if I didn’t get my act together, I could never afford to keep it up for her once she was unable to. The thought alone had me sipping more vodka and spiced tomato juice.
I looked down at Molly, who was her usual quiet self. She was doing her typical observing and only put in a comment here and there. Most of the rest of us were outspoken and it just seemed fit one of us would need to be more reserved. The funny part about it was if you pissed sweet Molly off, she would become the loudest and most obnoxious of us all. I chuckled thinking about her last outburst at Bradley. She’d mentally scarred him.
Bradley looked between me and Molly, seeming to read my mind. “Hilary, you still dating that douche bag?”
“No, Brad, I broke up with him almost a year ago and I tell you every time we come to brunch.”
“Good, I couldn’t stand him,” he said, shoveling a heaping amount of egg into his mouth.
“Well, it’s a good thing I have Jayden now.”
Every head at the table turned to me as my verbal diarrhea caught up with my brain.
Why the hell did I say that?
“Who is Jayden?” Sabrina asked as she moved her weave out of the way to take a bite of eggs. Yes, Sabrina had a weave. She also had thirty-two piercings, unlimited tattoos, and only dated men who used their last name as their first: e.g. Harrison, Ford, Turner, Carter. She was even more exhausting than me when it came to indecision. She had worked every job imaginable, as well as exercised her freedom in religion. She’d delved into Buddhism, Hinduism, the Wiccan practice, and actual witchcraft (which is different, just ask her) to everything else available. I looked at her with an honest answer.
“Honestly, just a guy I had one date with, no big deal.” I sat completely stunned that I’d even spoken about Jayden, though he’d been heavy on my mind all morning.
“Apparently he’s made an impression,” my mother chimed in.
“Maybe, and we’re not discussing it,” I said.
“You brought it up,” Bradley said, making me feel more uncomfortable. So I shot back, “Let’s talk about your girlfriend, Bradley.” Only my mother was allowed to call him Bradley. He narrowed his eyes. I still saw my baby brother as the awkward kid with the cute lisp who used to run around pulling pranks on the family. Namely duct taping the kitchen faucet so when we turned it one we were instantly soaked. I blamed shows like The Wild Boys and Jackass. They had been his greatest influences. It was a nightmare watching him reenact the stunts, including the time he slid down our huge staircase on a snowboard. He’d cracked his skull and needed sixty-two stitches. Nothing had ever been funnier to me than my foul mouth baby brother at nine years old cursing horribly on the doctor’s table to my mother’s horror like a grown man while getting his head stitched.
“If thath murther furken snowboard hadn’t been so flurking sthlippery I wouldn’t halph busted my head on the sthupid sthairs.”
From that day on I’d made it my sole responsibility to keep the boy safe from himself. I caught hell from him, but I couldn’t under any circumstances stop myself. He was my pride and joy and I couldn’t handle the thought of him getting hurt. I was sure one day he would thank me for keeping him from blowing his hand off with fireworks, or covering for him when he took the family car out at eleven-years-old for a joy ride. The child was a daredevil and I was the only one who knew his tells, or when shit was about to go down. He grew out of it a few years later when he discovered girls and that had been another nightmare altogether.
“Yes, Bradley,” Alexis added, “please tell me you are wise to her motives.”
“She’s not the one, okay. Lay off. I’m not an idiot and I’m not interested in getting married yet. I’m only twenty-two.” That was his explanation and he was sticking to it.
“She’s disgusting,” Sabrina said as I turned to her, noticing her newest hair disaster was filled with eggs. I pushed my plate away, no longer interested in my food once I observed it in hers. Molly chuckled as she looked as Sabrina’s protein filled hair then turned to me with wide eyes. We shared a private eye roll and giggle before Alexis caught it and smiled.
“Sabrina, you have eggs in your horse hair,” Alexis spouted as she nodded toward her drenched hair.
“That’s disgusting,” Bradley said, wrinkling his nose.
My mother seemed to be bothered by my sister’s new getup, commenting next, “Baby, you have beautiful hair. Why don’t you just let your natural hair through? What is the point of this wild Cleopatra thing you have going on?”
“Or the people of Wal-Mart thing you have going on,” Alexis added with a laugh and a snort.
Sabrina stiffened as she prepared to defend herself. “I like it, Mom. Screw you, Alexis. When is the last time you got action?”
“In the courtroom yesterday, sasquatch,” Alexis defended.
“Ladies, act your age,” my mother scolded before turning to Sabrina. “Then wear it your way,” my mother said softly as she diffused the situation then smiled at her daughter.
It was the look she gave Sabrina that confirmed my mother meant her words. She wasn’t keeping score; she was measuring smiles. I knew then no matter what decision I made about my life, she wouldn’t let me live with it until I’d found what made me do that the most.
I walked into my bedroom that night, grabbed my laptop, and looked up the location of the travel agency versus the address of the building of the architect as I weighed the pros and cons of each job. Money was a concern, but in the end, I took Jayden’s advice and was attempting to do “what made me happy.” It wasn’t long before I went with my gut. Being a flight attendant had always been on my list of possible career choices. Becoming a travel agent was the next best thing. I was off in the morning— Monday being our slowest day at the diner—and decided to make the call first thing to request an interview. I thought of Jayden, as I had the last twelve hours, and wondered if he was thinking of me. I knew our date went well, I didn’t wonder if he’d call. I just wondered if he had any sort of game to play or none at all. I didn’t want to over analyze, but I liked him.