Bainbridge Bride

Chapter 2

"Good morning, Paige!" My mother stands at the stove flipping sausages. I squint my eyes at her. She never cooks dinner and then breakfast the next morning. When I was little, she'd have the nanny prepare breakfast. Then she'd promise to make dinner, but have the nanny do it.

"Good morning. Smells good," I say, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl. When has he had time to go grocery shopping?

"It will smell even better with everyone here. Will you go wake Jasper? I'll get your father," she says, turning off the gas on the stove.

I walk upstairs and tap lightly on Jasper's door.

"Hmm," he grumbles. I smile to myself, knowing he's not a morning person.

"Mom made breakfast. Come down when you're ready." I press my face against the cold door. He doesn't respond, but I know he'll come down soon. Downstairs, my mother has already made our plates and is sitting at the table with my father.

"Coffee or orange juice, Paige?" Mom smooths her apron down.

"Both," I say, taking a seat at the table. She wrinkles her eyebrows.

"Now Paige, that is too much sugar for your first meal of the day. Your hips don't need any extra surface area." She pours the orange juice slowly.

"I don't need a lot of things. You telling me what to drink is one of them," I say. She exasperates me with her constant demands when she's never been here for me.

"Paige! Watch your tone with your mother. You and your brother have got to learn some respect." my father interjects yet again.

"We have to do what?" Jasper enters the kitchen, his hair disheveled and his eyes weighed down with sleep.

"Nothing." I hold up a hand to stop my parents from further ruining my morning. A buzz goes off, breaking the silence.

"That would be my pager. Jaw reconstruction at Methodist." My father rises from the table and grabs his keys from the hook.

"This again? Really?" Jasper rests his head in his hands. His eyes show pain again. He really wanted to have family breakfast. He really wanted to be like regular families.

"We've discussed this, Jasper. There are things we cannot control." My mother tries to soothe him, but her tone is irrational.

"You can control this! Just don't go!" Jasper bursts. He grabs his plate and walks to the stairs.

"Thanks for the breakfast," he tells my mother before going to him room. Poor kid.

"Looks like it's just me and you, Paigey." She smiles at the use of my old nickname. I smile back. She has good intentions all the time, but bad execution. Looking at her makes my heart hurt too much. I see the years of my childhood that I missed with her.

"Actually, it's just you. I think I should go find something to do. Thanks for the food. It was good," I tell her before going to the stairs.

"Have fun!" she says as she begins to clear off the table. I smile and walk upstairs. I pull an old blue shirt with fading white letters over my head and tug on my blue jean shorts. My eyes wander out of the window. It looks like a good day for reading on the porch swing that my dad installed for my fourteenth birthday. I browse through the bookshelf.

"Choose Looking for Alaska." Jasper's voice projects from my door. I jump and turn to see him at my door, keys in hand.

"Where are you going?" I laugh as I pull the book I've read a million times out. He smiles.

"Rachel asked me to pick her up." Jasper says, still smiling. He's crazy about Rachel.

"You're still dating her? This is a first." I tell him as me walk down the stairs together.

"And a last. She's the one," he says as he walks down the driveway. I shake my head knowing he can't love her.

"Jas, you're sixteen years old," I tell him.

"Sixteen and three quarters," he adds. I laugh and wave goodbye as he drives off.

I sit down on the swing and bury myself in the book. As I read, I wonder why I can't be as reckless as the characters in the book. I make it halfway through when a stereo begins blasting next door. I raise an eyebrow, knowing that no one has lived there since the Randolph family moved out ten years ago. The music grows louder.

"Enough," I say to myself and walk through the grass and up onto the porch of the house. I knock roughly, doubting they'll be able to hear me over the speakers blasting. I knock again. This time, a man with a black suit on comes to the door.

"May I assist you?" he asks, revealing his British accent. My eyes travel over him.

"Do you live here?" I ask angrily. He pushes his lips together and presses his hands down the front of his suit.

"Erm, yes. Would you like to speak to someone else? You seem vexed, miss," he says, stepping aside. Vexed?

"Yes, I would." I say stepping inside the house. I gaze around, remembering when the Randolph's lived here and I'd play with their daughter, Winnie. The wallpaper has been ripped down and covered with white paint. The furniture is black leather and is covered with white and gray pillows. A modern bachelor pad.

"Is there something I can do for you miss?" A guy emerges from the back of the living room. He flashes his white teeth at me.

"Turn down your music please. I can't read with the sound blaring from only twenty or so feet away," I tell him. He steps closer to me.

"May I ask your name?" He grabs my hand and brings it to his lips. His lips are warm. I pull my hand away quickly.

"Paige Aberdeen. Yours is?" I ask. He smiles devilishly.

"Kent. Kent Bainbridge. Come in, have something to drink." Kent says leading me into the kitchen by my hand. The kitchen has been stripped of its pink walls and now possesses white ones.

"What'll it be Paige? Water, soda?" He opens the fridge. He bends over, drawing his khakis into his legs and revealing his muscular build.

"Oh no, I'm fine. I just need you to turn down your stereo." I tap on the counter impatiently.

"Of course, doll," he says, instantly turning down the music. I go to the front door to let myself out.

"Wait, Paige!" Kent calls after me. I turn to him.

"What?" I ask, clearly ready to leave.

"Stay for a while."

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