If he was asked about his life, young Marcus Anderson would probably see it as an "exciting rollercoaster ride," full of fun while it lasts, but it came to a complete stop when Ellie Miller, his childhood friend, had to leave him.
Everything was s...
Today is Tuesday, 4am. The sky still looks as though it's crepuscular, yet the Anderson family will not let their mundane drowsiness make them lay back down in bed, as today is a very important day, especially for their dad, Bernard.
The parents are only having a hot Americano for breakfast, while Marcus is eating saltine crackers paired with freshly brewed hot chocolate. They eat quickly and they'll head to their own bathrooms to shower for a good 10 minutes. Then, after that, all that's left is for them to make sure everything is packed and ready to go. Surely they can't miss their flight.
"Baby! Can you pass me my suitcase?" Bernard calls out, reaching out a hand, waiting for his suitcase to be handed over.
Cecilia goes downstairs to lend him his suitcase, struggling just a tad bit because of its heaviness. It would be a shame if his husband forgot about it, as it has everything he needs for his new job in New York. "Here you go" She smiles
"Grazie, amore."(Thank you, love.) He tucks a piece of her ginger hair behind her ear and kisses her cheek softly
"And Marcus, dovrestiprepararti adesso. Il nostro volo parte alle 6:30"(you should get ready now. Our flight leaves at 6:30) He strictly instructs him, goi
The shower door glass fogs up like a mirror close to someone's breath as the water droplets trickle down to the linoleum floor. The showerhead gets turned off and leaves a 'pitter-patter' sound reverberating off of the bathroom walls. Marcus opens the translucent slide glass as some of the moisture from the hot water leaves. He dries himself with a towel, as it soaks up every iota of water present on his skin like a sponge.
"Hai già finito di fare la doccia, Marcus?" (Have you finished showering already, Marcus?) His father shouts from downstairs, the vibration from his voice can be felt from here. Marcus leaves his bathroom, drying his brunette hair.
"Si, papa! Sono già vestito!"(Yes, dad! I'm already in my clothes!) Marcus answers, as he slides on the navy blue knitted sweater that has a woolen texture and just the right thickness. Now, he's dressed up, but he still has to put on his beanie, pants, socks, and shoes.
Once he was done, he opened his bedroom door to go downstairs, expecting he was the one who both of his parents had been waiting on. Turns out, it's pretty much the opposite.
He saw his dad slumped in the couch, his eyes wandering around the room to pass the time, realizing things he hasn't noticed before, like how dusty their top shelf is, or how unorganized their display books are, because no one ever reads them.
He knows he's getting impatient. So, he approaches him. "Papà, dov'è la mamma?" (Papa, where's mama?) He asks, sitting on the couch next to him, bridging the gap between the two. The cushions sinking with his weight, molding to the contours of his body in a comforting way, yet the awkward silence couldn't have been more uncomfortable.
His dad huffs, tapping his foot against the floor impetuously "Si sta ancora preparando al piano superiore nella stanza degli ospiti"(She's still getting ready upstairs in the guest room)
"Non l'hai vista?" (Didn't you see her?) He pauses his foot tapping to ask him, his eyes are now fixed onto the boy
Marcus, a bit intimidated by his father's gaze hesitates but manages to respond, "Ay...nó papa"
They waited for a few minutes, their eyes completely focused on the closed door at the top of the stairs just next to Marcus' room, hoping she would come out there any minute now. But no. Every time Bernard asks her if she's ready to go, she'll say no and that she'll be done in a few minutes, yet it has been at least 30 minutes, and they're supposed to be at the airport already. He's already picturing the long lines and the frantic rush to make their flight. He knows she's just taking her time, but the thought of missing their plane makes his stomach churn.
"Cecilia, aren't you done yet?!" He panically pleads, sprinting upstairs to the guest room where Cecilia is still getting ready
"Sì, baby!! Esco tra pochi secondi, just hold on."(Yes, baby!! I'll be out in a few seconds, just hold on.) She hurriedly says, putting powder on her face like a baker sifting powdered sugar on a cake. It leaves a faded and unnoticeable white stain on the sleeves of her maroon sweater
"What are you doing now, Cecilia?! We're gonna miss our flight because of you, we've been waiting for so long!" He exclaims in a clipped tone, containing his anger
"Oh just hush Bernard! Non voglio sembrare uno zombie davanti a tutta quella gente!"(I don't wanna look like a zombie in front of all those people!) She reasons out, now putting shiny earrings that look like sampaguitas hanging on her ears, making her look resplendent
"Baby, we're going to an airport! Why would you wear those fancy earrings when all we're gonna do is just sit in a plane?" He exasperated, holding his hands with his head
"Hey! That doesn't mean I can't bejewel myself" She lightheartedly protested
"Dios mio, Cecilia!"(My goodness, Cecilia!) He exclaims, shaking his head, but he can't help but let out a slight chuckle. His wife looked gorgeous, if not, dazzling in those ceiling lights.
His eyes fell upon the sparkling quartz necklace she was hurriedly putting on. It was the same necklace that he gifted to Cecilia for their 3rd wedding anniversary.
"Ok, ok! Fine! I'm done now" She declared, like a soldier surrendering to defeat
Italy blessed Marcus' eyes with its picturesque street, as sunlight danced across the terracotta rooftops and kissed the ancient cobblestones below that lay at the roots of the buildings. With a heavy heart, he said his final goodbyes to the place he considered his playground for the past five years.
All of them buckled in their seatbelts,as a new life in New York awaits for them.
