Step Brother

five

My mom snuck into my room at 6:30 and demanded I get up.

I groaned, sitting up. "Why mom?"

She sighed and placed a hand on her hip. "I need your help. I'm baking a lot so I can give the leftovers to a homeless shelter," she pulled out her phone and scrolled through it.

I rolled my eyes and stood to my feet, slipping on a pair of shorts. "Fine."

My mother smiled and disappeared a second later as I made my way into my bathroom.

I had dark bags under my eyes and my hair was a knotted mess.

I tugged it up in a messy bun and called it a day, no worries since Robert wouldn't be here until 2.

I made my way downstairs, taking in the massive mountain of baking goods on the island.

"What the hell mom? Exactly how much do you expect me to bake?"

She chittered as she reached below the sink and brought out the stand mixer.

"Well, I called the shelter and told them to be expecting 10 deserts and 5 entrees. I figured you could work on the food for there while I worked on our dinner." she smiled innocently as she tuck a piece of long brunette hair behind her ear.

"15 dishes. You want me to make 15 dishes before I'm expected to be ready for company?"

She nodded and turned toward the refrigerator and pulled out the frozen Turkey.

"You can make duplicate dishes, but make at least five different types of desserts. And for the entrees, basic sides like macaroni and potatoes. Brighten up buttercup, you got this."

I wanted to commit a felony on my mother as she left the kitchen.

I sighed as I got to work writing down my meal plans.

. . .
Four hours later, I leaned against the counter as I popped the container of green beans into the oven. Now I only needed to worry about the remaining 4 desserts and I was going to take my ass upstairs and nap.

Turning back around, my hip bumped into a jar of flour on the counter, causing it to slide over the side.

Flour flew into the air like snow and landed in my hair and across my face.

"What the hell was that?" my mother voiced as she ran into the kitchen, taking in the heaps of white powder stuck to every surface.

"Jessica Rain!" oh no, not the middle name. "You better clean all of this up immediately!"

I felt my temper rise as I turned my back to my mother. I needed to calm down. But it was impossible when I've been up since 6 and making dishes that my mother so fucking kindly promised.

I retrieved a broom and proceeded to sweep up the powder and broken glass mixture.

10 minutes later, everything was spotless again, except for me.

"I need some more flour, mother," I seethed. "Could you please go to the store and get some?"

She looked at me and sighed. "I doubt that there will be an opened store today, but I suppose I can go look for one. I'll be back shortly. Finish up what you can," she walked over to me and kissed my head. "Ugh, you have flour all over yourself."

She backed away and left the room, and shortly later, the house.

I reveled in the peace and quiet, nothing heard except for the low humming of the oven.

I let a few tears slip down my cheeks, I'm a person who cries when I'm frustrated, so don't say anything.

I sunk to the floor with my phone as I dialed my fathers number.