Lost In Her

TWELVE

* Abby's POV *

"Hour or so," I tell Mom, sliding my phone into my back pocket.

"Alright," she smiles, "What do you want to make?"

"I'm not sure, I was thinking just something simple."

"Well, I know one thing that is simple and that everybody loves when you make!"

"What's that?" I ask opening the fridge to see what we have.

"Meatloaf."

"Really? Meatloaf? I haven't made that in forever. I don't even remember the recipe." Truth be told I never had a recipe, I just somehow know how much to put in.

"Oh, cmon Abby, I know you don't have a recipe," she calls me out.

"Fine. I'll make it." I start pulling out the ground beef, eggs, and ketchup. "Will you preheat the oven to three-fifty?"

While I grab the assorted spices from the cupboard I can hear her program the oven. She then brings me the mixing bowl and rolling pin. Before I can even ask, she sets the crackers and ziplock in front of me.

"Do you mind cracking the eggs and rolling out the crackers while I go shower and change real quick?"

"No problem Angel."

I run from the room and into the bathroom. Within five minutes I am in and out of the shower. Slipping out from the bathroom in my towel, I head to my room to get dressed. I slip on a pair of black skinny jeans with tears in the legs, and an oversized black sweatshirt. Nothing fancy, but I think I look good in it.

Why am I worried about looking good? I ask myself.

Because you like her, you idiot, another voice inside of me snaps.

I shake myself out of my head and run back into the bathroom. I quickly dry my hair and comb through it. As I brush through my long hair, I check my phone for the time. I've only been thirty minutes. I grab my toothbrush next. I swish and spit before returning to the kitchen.

Mom has also changed and is now wearing a pair of light jeans and a red blouse.

"You look nice," I say passing her so I can finish prepping the meatloaf. The oven is almost preheated. I see that mom has pulled out a pot and the steamer tray, I assume to make asparagus.

Turning back to my workspace, the crackers are almost as fine as sand and the eggs have been cracked into a separate bowl. I throw all the ingredients into the bowl and rub my hands together. Pushing up the sleeves, I plunge my hands into the bowl to mush all of the stuff together. Taking the mix, I roll it into a ball before dropping it into the loaf pan. I flatten the ball evenly so it spread into the pan nicely.

As soon as I flip on the faucet to wash my hands, the oven beeps meaning that it is preheated.

"Thirty minutes please," I tell Mom and she slides the pan into the oven and sets the timer. I finish up washing my hands and begin to grab everything I need to set the table. It has been so long since any of us has sat at the table for a family dinner.

Family, I think. My mind drifts and I can envision Mom, me and a baby girl sitting around the table laughing together. I smile and then frown at the thought, knowing that it will never happen.

I rejoin Mom in the kitchen and watch the front door. It sparks a thought, "What if Jared comes home?"

"I don't know," she responds honestly. "All we can do is pray that he doesn't."

I try to give her a reassuring smile, knowing that I am failing miserably.

A knock on the door breaks our thoughts. Trying to calmly walk to the door, I end up doing a weird hopping motion.

Swinging open the battered door, my eyes go wide at the sight of the person on the other side.