Taylor and Victor

Chapter 14

Taylor

She can't get her mind off him. Like when she would try to, her hands felt empty and her eyes hurt. Hurt of seeing the same thing all day long.

The only time she was so desperate for Monday is for her trip in summer. Not even once she wishes to go to school this much. Now she just wanted to stay there all week.

Her mother was busy today, she had just informed her. Her father got his day off finally, all Sunday and Saturday, when no one grew interested in divorce anymore. Or they did, and now hadn't remarried.

At eight o'clock, later than usual.

"I'll get going." And the house is all hers. Practically.

Technically, her father's home, so he's still in control of this house. But she knows she can act around.

"Do you want to hang out for lunch?" Leo asked from outside of her room. Three hours after her mother left.

Taylor, who's sitting across the room on her desk, turns around facing him.

"Why do you ask?"

Her father scratches the back of his head, wrinkles his forehead before he folds his hands and leaning to the door frame. "I figured out we had less time together than I had with my office. I think we could, I should, spend more time together?"

She looks at him, her face still remain neutral. Taylor finds being by herself is easier to make her pleased, even if she would get bigger responsibility. But there's nothing much she couldn't handle. Her father, again, have nothing alike with her beside her black eyes straight hair. (Yes, she inherited these traits from her father. Minh had a fluffy cloudy hair softly fall down to her shoulder, despide how her grandmother looked. And she sometimes wishes her mother would give her light brown eyes to her.)

"I'd rather be home," she said.

"Great, still. Do you want me to cook something?"

"Left it to me. I'll make something quick."

Taylor standing up, reorganizing her books and papers which she used to entertain her hands while watching movie. She puts them in a stack, and pauses what's playing on her computer screen.

"You don't need to," Leo said. "We'll make noodles, noodle's quick."

Taylor takes off her headphone, one covers her ears. Leo saw her gesture and started walking down to the kitchen with her following behind. She wanted to finish eating quickly and get back up living in her daydream. Until she gets down, open the cabinets and realize they have no instax noodles left.

"We'll make some spaghetti. They're still noodles."

"Time consuming one," she said. Five minutes extra is still taking time, not to talk about Leo's enthusiasm about making own sauce.

Taylor doesn't feel like eating right now, her appetize usually goes on vacation when she's concentrating on anything, to which she's watching her series. But she couldn't leave her father down here and eat when she felt alone. She has to eat lunch, with him, on the dining table. Not in bed, not in the afternoon.

There's no rule would force her to do so. But her father sounded sincere when he asked her to do so.

"You boil those, I'll make some sauce." Leo takes out tomatoes from the refrigerator and starts cutting them. "Give me an onion."

Taylor obeyed, as she knew cooking with him would take time, not talking back. Her father could cook for himself. But about little details he had to be aware, no one could be sure. She let him do what he's doing, but still sigh seeing her father rubbing his eyes with his finger.

"Ask me if things go hard," she said, her hand filling a pot with water.

"I won't," Leo said with his watery eyes.

They keep quiet for a moment, sounds of boiling water and sizzling pan are the only things make their house sound like in use. Taylor enjoys this as much as she can, putting an ice cube on her cup of juice and watches it dissolve into the water, floating like a tiny iceberg. Then redo with another one.

She watched as the noodle turned soft.

"How's things at school?" Leo asked, out of the blue.

"Great." Taylor concentrated on her job, cutting cucumbers and decorating their plates.

"How's your friend boy? The one you often come over?"

"Sam. He's fine."

She didn't try to lengthen the conversation, and all Leo can think of is just that.

The house was haunted for those minutes, visible persons but not sounds. Sounds of what a living thing would do. Taylor's busy minding her business to care about what's around her.

Out of unnoticed, their doorbell rings. They both turn their heads, no one moves as the door leaves unlocked.

"Hi." Sophie waved at them while pushing the door open. Taylor has been seeing her around, she's her mother's friend. And was her first French teacher ever.

"Where's Min?" she continued.

"She just got out. Do you need anything?"

Taylor said nothing, she kept on stirring the sauce, sprinkling in some salt while letting her father talk to her.

"I got a package delivered here. Please, tell her I came over."

She pours in the mixture, even and dripping hot down to her plate. Then her father's.

"Come in, I didn't sure where she left. I'll tell her."

There was the sound of heels clicking down to the floor. Sophie takes out a packed rectangular box from the cabinet, one right near their entrance, checked with the label then comes to face her father.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Have a great day. And you, Taylor," Sophie said, with her fingers making a V line under her smiling face. "Keep your spirit up."

She didn't mind saying anything, she lowered her head like a greeting gesture.

She organized the dining table, quickly cleaning the kitchen counter. Her father's filling his cup with juice and ice. And then something, a pleasant but harsh smell gets into her nose.

"So, Tie, your mother will be late tonight. Do you want to watch socce-"

"Dad," she cuts him off.

"Yes, what's that?"

"Did you smell anything?" Taylor makes a sniffing sounds.

"Oh, mashed potato. I microwaved... Jesus!"

Taylor clicked her tongue, looking at her father unimpressed. She manages a smile watching Leo's face distress, holding his smoky bowl of burned potato in front of his face.