Circa Tulsa 1964

Ch. Two

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Summer rain was my favorite kind of weather. It smelled heavenly and brought heavenly temperatures with it. From the second I inhaled the sweltering heat of Oklahoma I knew it was going to take some adjusting. Especially coming from the clean Rocky Mountain Air I was used to.

As the small droplets pittered on my window sill I smiled, the soothing trickling was a wonderous way to be brought out of deep slumber. I can only imagine my family's reaction was similar to mine. The Foster household should be in a rather pleasant mood this morning with the grey, gloomy day ahead of us. We were fond of the cold.

"Kids! Breakfast in thirty, please be dressed!" My mother's voice echoed through the new house. I glanced over at my alarm clock, it was about thirty minutes to nine. I consistently required almost forty-five minutes to get ready but any amount of effort would be better than how most of Tulsa met me a few days ago.

Rolling out of the covers I stretched with a yawn, standing up and rifling through the last of the boxes I had yet to unpack. After locating some sort of outfit that would work for whatever day activities my family had planned I brushed through my hair. Layering in some product so it would curl up how I had it yesterday.

"Hey," Bucky started as he pushed open my bedroom door. "You didn't pack up my hair oil, did you? I can't find it," He complained, rustling through the supplies I had laid out on my vanity.

"It's in Henry's room, I don't have it." I slapped the top of his hands while he continued to rustle across my products. "I don't have it!" I insisted, grabbing his bicep and dragging him across the hall. My feet planted on the carpet as I pushed open the door to Henry's bedroom.

"What?" Our brother snapped as he stood in front of the mirror, oily hands in his hair.

"Told you," I shrugged, leaving the boys upstairs and joining my mother in the kitchen. She was a beautiful woman, shoulder-length blonde hair and the kindest blue eyes. Though I often favored my father's features, being told I looked like her was the highest of compliments.

We all actually favored my father's appearance, his hair was so dark that it pretty much eradicated my mother's blonde gene. Though hers was curly, which I imagine is where we all got that from. My brothers more so than myself, since I often styled mine otherwise.

"Good morning Dot," She smiled, stirring the pan of whatever she had been cooking. The aroma of sweet breakfast filled the air, though I couldn't pinpoint exactly what she had been baking.

"Morning Mom," I giggled at the commotion coming from the second floor. Hollering and shouting as the brother's wrestled around. Soon enough three pairs of clattering feet trampled down the steps, nearly toppling over one another as they hurried to the table.

"Boys," Mom grinned as she pulled the baking tin from the oven. "You two look cute, I don't even have to match you anymore. You do it yourselves." My mom teased nodding towards Bucky and I, both of us dressed in dark jeans and striped t-shirts.

"I didn't notice what you were wearing earlier," Bucky shrugged as he fixed his hair. In the roughhousing, his freshly gelled locks had been disrupted from their usual resting place. The younger of us took a deep breath before looking closely at my attire. "That's Jack's shirt isn't it?"

"Yeah, I stole a few before we left." I giggled in time with our mother as she looked more in-depth at my attire. Jack's shirt was a few sizes too large on my small frame but that was an issue that could be easily solved by a few hair elastics and some creativity.

"Jack never liked when you took his things."

"He can complain all he wants when we go back to visit." I smiled victoriously as I grabbed a muffin.