In The Long Run

In The Long Run (21)

Mom was baking cookies in the kitchen,  Dad was watching football in the living room and I was lying on my bed upstairs, reading a book. It was just a lovely Saturday afternoon. Wayne had to work until three, so I wouldn’t be seeing him until then. He’d have to catch up on lost time at work somehow, because we were at our prenatal class that morning and Wayne had to go in late. He was only working in an extra hour, so it didn’t bother me too much, but I was still bored. He was usually the only good company I had. Ever since Liz went back to Washington, the house has been awfully quiet. Mom and Dad weren’t always the best company to keep, so I kept to myself most of the time, but right now I needed to hear another human voice. I got up and made my way downstairs, being careful not to lose my footing on the steps. Dad was too engrossed in the television to be good company, so I went to find Mom in the kitchen. She was baking shortbread cookies in the shape of hearts with the ends dipped in chocolate. She always put extra effort in to make everything she baked come out perfect and the rest of us appreciated that. Her best creation ever would have to be the Angel food cake she made one Christmas. I honestly never tasted anything so good in my life. I dragged myself into the kitchen and with a lot of effort, hoisted myself into a bar stool. I sat and watched Mom for a while. She didn’t seem to notice me. When she put the last tray of cookies into the oven, she turned around and saw me sitting there for the first time.

“Oh, Jamie sweetie, I didn’t even see you sitting there.”

“I’m silent like a ninja.” I joked.

She gave a quiet giggle and came to stand in front of me on the other side of the counter. “You already done with your book?”

“It’s the second time I’ve read it and I got bored halfway. I really need some new reading material.”

“I’ll tell you what. When I’m done with this last batch, you and I can go out for something to eat and we can look for a new book for you.”

“That sounds great mom.”

“Okay then. Let’s give it…” she glanced at her watch and chewed on her lip habitually. “… Ten minutes, then the cookies will be done and we can leave.”

“Cool.”

I helped her gather all the mixing bowls and utensils and we washed dishes during those ten minuets. I dried and put the things away while Mom washed and before I even knew it, we were done. Times like these were fun, when it was just me and Mom hanging out. Mom put on her oven mitts and opened the oven.  Almost immediately the smell of warm shortbread wafted through the kitchen and apparently the living room too, because not long after the oven door opened, Dad appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Is that shortbread I smell?” he asked, sniffing the air like bloodhound.

“Yes it is.” Mom said. “But you can’t have any yet.”

“Aw, why not?” he asked, intensifying the bloodhound-ness by bringing out his puppy eyes.

“Don’t you give me that look.” Mom scolded. “They aren’t done yet. I still need to dip them in chocolate.”

“I can do that.”

“Not without eating half of it, you can’t.” she set the tray down on a cooling rack and then turned to me. “Jamie, go grab a jacket. It might be cold outside.”

“Okay.” I got off the chair and struggled my way back upstairs. I would rather have stayed downstairs to listen to Mom and Dad’s bickering. It was such a pain dragging my heavy ass up the stairs. I quickly grabbed a jacket from my closet, well, as quickly as I could in this mutant body and then struggled my way back downstairs. Dad had retreated back into the living room and Mom was waiting for me by the front door.