2 kids

The greatest blessing and biggest curse.

Alex.

Anyone would know something is going on. The heavy atmosphere can be cut in pieces.

We quietly pass by Sarah and Jake, the only ones having a good time now. Immediately upon entering the living room my eyes land on the table. The coffee cups on the table, all untouched. No flowers in a vase, nothing else on the table but those coffee cups.

Usually there's nothing wrong with three mothers enjoying their cup of coffee in the afternoon, but on a day like this, at a time like this, even the coffee seems to have a different, heavier and more penetrating smell.

The reason for this conversation is clear to everyone. Yet no one speaks up. As if there's a collective agreement that we'll wait for our fathers to show up.

For a second I wonder if the chain reaction of tragedies following our family for all these years like a curse would happen if it all didn't go downhill twelve years ago. It's all one big chain reaction, yet some things could probably have been prevented. But what could we have known back then? We were just as clueless as we are now.

Ace is the one to break the cold silence. "What are we doing here today?"

The front door opens and closes quietly. No voices are heard, the whole apartment is as dead as we all feel now. Every once in a while Sarah or Jake scream or laugh loudly. But other than their voices, it's deadly quiet.

Quiet steps echo through the hallway until our fathers don't appear in the door, making their way to the table and taking a seat.

Mia, sitting next to me, lets out a heavy sigh.

"We need to talk about how we'll handle this situation," my mum speaks up.

How we'll handle this new situation.

We can't prevent someone from walking freely. We don't own New York.

"Has he suggested a meeting?" Mia asks.

"Not yet, but he will."

I look at Mae who returns the horrifying gaze.

Ace's dad speaks up from the couch. "Do we know where he's now?"

This earns him a heavy sigh from his wife, but she answers. "Somewhere in the city. He didn't specify that. He just said he's back in town. I think you, as my mother, should know that. Those were his exact words."

Ace looks at her through the corner of his eyes. I'm sure he's already had a conversation with her about why she ever picked up the phone in the first place. He's angry at her, but he won't admit it. In a way his anger is reasonable, but even so he has no right to be mad at his mother for behaving like a worried mother. She's a mother, and she'll always care for her children.

The greatest blessing and biggest curse, as my mum said a few days ago.

"What is there for us to do anyway?" My dad joins the conversation. He proposes a wonderful question, one I've been asking myself too for days now.

We're acting too dramatic now. Too... we're approaching this from the wrong angle. We're not some heroes from some second class movie attempting to save their small town from a returned villain. Drama runs in our blood, but we're being unreasonable and too dramatic now. We need to approach this fucked up situation with seriousness we apparently all lack. Robbing a bank would probably be easier now.

"We have to keep the kids out of it," my mum continues. "The kids cannot, under any circumstances, be dragged into this."

Just like all these years ago she steals a quick glance at the three of us. I seem to be the only one who notices. Ace's got his head down; Mae's eyes are jumping from one person to the other, following the conversation like she's in a tennis match.