Impavid

The Letter

     Fingers drummed against the tabletop, quiet humming filling the room. I grunted, shifting my weight. My fingers gripped the handle tighter, as I stirred the batter. "Melanie," I groaned. I hoped she'd get the hint, but there was no movement. Obviously she couldn't even hear me over the sound bellowing through her earbuds. She gasped, slamming her hands down on the table as if she wasn't believing what she was reading. I assumed it was either the newest fashion trend or the latest celebrity breakup. 

      "Lane," I repeated, but still no signs that she heard me. I couldn't hear myself think with her humming and intense drumming at this point. 

     I dropped the spoon back into the bowl and moved across the kitchen quickly. From behind her, I rested my palm on her shoulder. Startled, her hands flung out, her glass tipping sideways and clashing onto the floor, water splattering in all directions. "What the hell?" She snapped, turning to look up at me. 

      I shrugged, "You're annoying me." She just stared at me, her eyes narrowing slightly. I rolled my eyes, reaching up and tugging one of her earbuds out. "You're annoying me," I repeated.

     "So?" She shook her head, turning back to face the window, pulling her lose earbud back into place. 

      I folded my arms, "Go somewhere else. I'm cooking." When I realized she had turned her music back up to a volume in which she could no longer hear me, I tugged the bud out again. "Why do you have to be in the kitchen?" I questioned, looking back to the bowl I had been working with. As if on cue, the weight of the spoon tipped the bowl slightly before regaining its balance. I felt myself let out the breath I didn't even realize I was holding as the bowl steadied. 

     "Why do you?" She was obviously oblivious to the fact that I'd been baking behind her for an hour. 

      "You're just an idiot," I retorted, moving back toward the bowl, "I'm baking this dumb cake for Mom's thing tomorrow. You're supposed to be helping, actually." She didn't stand, instead waving her hand over her shoulder in a dismissive fashion, before replacing her earbud. "Lanie!" I shouted, getting way too irritated by such a silly action. 

     "I'm waiting for the mail," She stated quietly in response, which made me realize that despite the earbud back in her ear, her music wasn't on. Usually this would have prompted questions, but I was in a mood. 

       "How the hell would you even know if it came?" I grunted, glancing up at the clock before at the window she was facing. The mailbox sat at the end of the driveway in perfect view, "You've been so distracted by that dumb gossip magazine anyway." She only flipped a page dramatically in response. I shifted my attention back to the cake batter, adding in a handful of chocolate chips. I could tell when she turned her music back on less than a minute later, when her fingers started drumming against the wooden table once more. "Clean up the water that you spilled!" I shouted, well aware she probably wouldn't hear me. 

     "What are you two arguing about?" I turned to face my dad. The front door closed loudly behind him, startling my sister. I held my hand up, him freezing in place. 

      "Don't step in the water," I nodded toward the puddle. Melanie tugged her own earbuds out this time, her eyes widening at the sight of my dad carrying the mail. I knew she'd missed it come. I knew it. She jumped to her feet, diving over the puddle and toward my dad in the adjoining foyer. She gathered the mail from his hands, digging through the envelopes before selecting one and jamming the rest back against my father's chest. She dashed out of the room and up the stairs. My dad only chuckled, stepping over the puddle, dropping the rest of the mail on the table as he passed. He came over to me, kissing the top of my head.

       "Smells good," He beamed, dipping a finger toward the batter. 

        I slapped his hand away, "No touching." 

     He gasped as he pointed out the window, but I didn't look, knowing he'd only dip his finger in and gather some of the batter to taste. "I just want to taste," He grinned, "You know, make sure it's not poisoned or anything!" I only shook my head. He reached over the bowl to grab some paper towels off the counter before moving back toward the puddle. 

       "You should have made her clean it up before you gave her that letter," I grunted, glancing back at the stairs as the sound of footsteps echoed through the room. 

     There, standing at the edge of the bottom stair, one arm resting on the railing, Melanie was holding a torn envelope and an opened letter, no longer in its neat, folded form. She looked annoyed and disappointed. "I'd been waiting all day to know if I was accepted," She grunted, "It's my dream school." My dad gathered the wet towels off of the ground before looking up at her. 

      "You didn't get in?" His eyes widened. 

      She shrugged, "I only looked at the return address."

       I cocked my head, "It wasn't for you?"

      She shook her head, "No. It was for you." 

       I blinked, confused. "Me? But I'm only a junior. I didn't even apply. Maybe they got the names wrong, or maybe they..." 

     I was interrupted. "They want you to attend one of their camps this summer. They want you to apply next year." Melanie explained, holding out the letter, "They think you're really smart and want you to join them. It's kind of a big deal." 

     I moved to take the letter slowly. I wasn't even aware of the fact that I was smiling until my dad threw one of the wet towels at my head, and my expression changed to surprise. Water splattered across the walls, and Melanie squealed, laughing. "Now go call Sophie or something!" She exclaimed, still smiling, "I'll finish the cake." 

     I shot my dad a look and he smiled. "Don't worry. I'll help her," He assured me.

      I shook my head and laughed, "Great, so comforting. Neither of you can cook." They both shrugged, Melanie moving around the railing to gather the wet towel that had settled on the floor. I shook my head, tossing the letter onto the table, "Sophie can wait. I'll finish the cake." We all laughed.