wordsmith's manuscript

chapter 19

-Actually, Atley and I are cousins.

-Oh, yes, yes, I remember Orion mentioning that to me.

-So it is.

-And how is it like having two writers living together?

            They glanced at each other.

-Well?

            I twirled my finger around the rim of the glass, trying not to focus my gaze on the table.

-Hmm...

            My mother looked stunning in a dark blue dress and a black knit jacket covering her slowly healing wrists; she insisted on sitting at the head of the table, with Albi beside me, Atley across from me, and Charles beside him... A Christmas dinner, she says... Funny, it's February...

-And you, Albi? Tell me more about yourself.

            He didn't seem to be at his best either, adjusting his clothes near his neck, almost as if they were bothering him, looking around a lot and clearly feeling uncomfortable.

-Me? Oh... Well, I'm an only child.

-Hmm, and do you like it?

            There was my mother with her smile, trying to be affectionate with everyone so no one would feel uncomfortable.

-Is it? I know having a sibling is comforting, but... since I never had one, hmm... I don't miss it...

-Did you know Albi can drive? - Charles said to my mother.

-Oh, how nice is that.

            Charles smiled and nodded.

-He and I can drive.

-Wow, do you both have cars?

-Yes.

-Your families must be very proud of you.

            Charles turned to Albi, almost attacking him.

-Of course they are, don't you agree, Albi?

He took a sip to hesitate in his response.

-Yes. I agree.

            They argued, for me that would be the explanation, those two argued and Atley and I never spoke again, that's the story, end of story. Nothing has a good ending, that's the moral, I'm beginning to think...

-Any more curiosities? Does anyone else want to share more things? - Still with a loving smile on her face.

            But the silence was deadly, you could hear the cutlery clinking against the plates and silence... Nothing else.

-Thank you for the meal - Atley muttered.

-Oh, you're welcome, my dear, you can always come back.

            And silence again... I wanted to help, but I don't speak... I don't want to, even though I can...

-Actually, I have something to say! - Charles placed the utensils on the napkin, and Albi seemed to become alert. Atley gave him a touch on the shoulder to stop him from being stupid and maybe not saying what he wanted.

-Oh, sure, go ahead, Charles.

-I think Albi should be the one to say, don't you agree, Albi?!

            Albi drank more water.

-Hmm?

-Don't you agree? - He smirked.

-I-I... Atley, you barely spoke today.