"There's my baby girl!" My dad jogs down the steps excitedly. The joy filled smile and the bounce in his walk makes me feel like a little girl again. His complection is an exact copy of mine. Although, his skin slightly wrinkled due to age he still is the same man I grew up with. His sky blue button down shirt is neatly tucked into his navy blue slacks giving him a polished look.
"Daddy! You cut your hair!" I jog to meet him half-way up the cemented walkway. We wrap our arms around one another. In a true loving fashion, he lifts me from the ground effortlessly in a fatherly bear hug. I am over joyed to feel this secure again. His signature cologne consumes me.
"Yeah I had to. Here, let me get a look at you." He puts me down and holds me at arms length with a wide smile. The faint lines of crows feet almost touch his eyebrows. I find my cheeks burning from returning the same smile. "Girl you're just a beautiful as your mother."
"You think so Daddy?"
He nods his head and wraps his arms around me in another brief hug. "I know so. But you got my smile for sure. Come on let's get you out this cold air." I smile humbly while he grabs my suitcase from the cabbie patiently waiting on the curb.
"Did you pay him?" My Dad asks me.
"Yes." With that taken care of, my Dad still reaches into his wallet to tip the man. Once he pulls off we make our way into my childhood home.
The polished hardwood floor thumps underneath my feet. The egg shell colored walls pair nicely with the light gray sectional. An oval shaped creme color rug sits underneath a circular shaped glass table. A new flat screen television is mounted above the fireplace. On the walls is various decorations but most importantly there are pictures of our family carefully hung throughout the comfy room. This is home.
"Mommy. I'm here." I call out. Knowing her, she is in the kitchen. She always goes over the top for the holidays. With my dad already upstairs to put my bag away in the guest room, I wander into the kitchen. "I knew you would be in here. That better be the pie I was promised." I say playfully.
My mother turns around and it's like I'm looking at an older version of what I would look like with shorter hair and a lighter skin tone. She is what they would say 'yellow bone'. We are practically built the same, although over the years her hips have slimmed down due to age. Even our height is the same.
"Is that my Little Ciera? Get over here and give your mother a hug." I do as I'm told and sigh in contentment.
"Momma why do you insist on calling me Ciera if my first name is Naomi?" I ask once we separate.
"Because I named you both. Now wash your hands and help me finish." I chuckle and go over to the sink. "I don't know where your sister is, she was supposed to help me cook this year."
I wash and dry my hands, shaking my head slightly. "I'm surprised you're even letting me do anything in here. You know I can't cook. This is more of a you and Erin type of thing."
"Trust me, I know. That's why you are just going to peel these potatoes. You can manage that."
She hands me a knife then looks at me cautiously. I reach out to grab it but she swiftly pulls it away. "Momma!"
"Nevermind. Here use this peeler. I make Olivia use it when she is my little helper." She rambles in a random drawer between us and pull out the plastic tool with the metal blade safely secured. "You can't mess this up."
"Momma. I know how to peel with a knife." I whine.
She shakes her head but ignores me. I watch her resume prepping the homemade crust. I defiantly grab the knife and start on my task.
YOU ARE READING
Playing With Fire (Lesbian)(Not Edited)
General Fiction"Creating a bond with someone is always a risk. From the moment that the connection is acknowledged, a spark is ignited. Through subtle interactions of true interest in one another, that bond flourishes into a flame. Its only when pain, dishonesty...
