Under the Counter ~ Luke Danes

18. Don't Worry Baby

"Isabella! Get down here please!" Isabella heard her mother call out for her. Her muffled yell drained out from the music playing from her radio player at more than half of the volume. Nirvana's "Love Buzz" was guaranteed to be heard by her parents downstairs.

She was sure they were calling her downstairs to turn it down. However, her parents always called her into another room to do something they could've just yelled out for. Her mother always called her into her parents room just to shut the door. It annoyed her.

Her finger pushed the pause button, stopping the music from playing. Her hand lightly swayed at the movement of her body as it brushed the stair rail and her feet galloped downstairs at her parents request.

"What's going on?" She said as her feet touched the last step on the cream, carpet covered stairs. Immediately she could sense the vibe of the living room downstairs. Her eyes scanned the room for her parents.

"Babe, your father and I-...." her mother's lips and chin began to quiver. Her words cut off by the uncontrollable movement of her lips. Her throat felt suffocated by her small gasps, dying to come out, but her mother didn't want to fully breakdown in front of Isabella. Her chest began to heave up and down. Her mother's fingers made contact with her face and her body turned away from Isabella. Her mother's face rested on the crook of her fathers neck, hiding away.

She recalled only seeing her mother this hysterical when her aunt Araceli had gotten in a head-on collision back in California about a year ago. She remembered seeing the breaking news headlines on the local news stations, informing people that the road will be closed until further notice. Pictures and videos of her aunt's accident were plastered all over the place.

"What?" Isabella was clearly worried, her eyes widened.

Her mother's sudden crying startled her.

"We have to go out of town for the whole weekend," her father replied, his arms wrapping around her mothers shoulders, trying his best to comfort her. Her father tried his best to maintain his composure, clearly his voice wanted to crack, the whiteness in his eyes a light pink.

"What? Why?" Isabella questioned, the sight of seeing her parents in distress caused her to feel apprehensive. She inched closer towards her parents.

"We have to go back to California. Your grandmother-..." her mother tried to mutter out but the tears and the lump in her mother's throat made it impossible. A lump began to form in Isabella's as well.

"What about grandma? Is she okay?" Isabella's voice began to crack, desperately needing to hear whether or not if she's fine.

"She's not doing so good right now. You know she's been having heart problems for a while now. Your Aunt Araceli called me this morning. Your grandma is going into surgery tomorrow morning for her aortic disease," her father explained in a very low tone.

"So what's going to happen?" Isabella asked, suddenly noticing how dirty the living room carpet was with a few soft black hairs on it from either her or her mother, not wanting to look at her parents knowing she was just a few tears away from a break down.

"Your father and I are going to catch a plane in about 4 hours back to California. I know this isn't how you wanted to spend your winter vacation but your grandmother and your aunt could really use the support right now," her mother managed to muffle out.

"What? I'm going! I have to! Who knows how anything could play out!" She argued intensely.

"Bella, we think it's best for you to stay. We need someone to watch the house...and we can't really afford another last minute plane ticket right now."