Slight Detours | Wattys 2015

(1) JARED

I resisted the urge to throw the plastic remote at the flat screen TV that dad got himself for Christmas. I had nothing against the TV. In fact, I loved the thing- it was us brothers' lifeline. The day Mac, Vince, and I found out we were getting a flat screen, we went ahead, raided our college savings and bought ourselves an XBOX 360.

Dad didn't give a crap as long as we didn't break anything. He understood us that way. Mom, well, she was definitely a mom. I blamed her for the irritating "please confirm password" notifications whenever I played Call of Duty. Her childhood precautionary measures for Lucy made it impossible for me to hack off human heads peacefully.

Apparently, seeing her older brother murder bad guys was something Lucinda May was not ready for. If only she could witness my skills, she'd praise me like a god.

Speaking of Lucy, she caused my bad mood in the first place. Specifically, her TV show selection made me want to barf. I laid back down on the couch, witnessing her enthusiasm for Dora. Her stubby little fingers clapped to the rhythm of the opening song. Giggling, she motioned for me to join her. Her smile widened as I stood up from the couch, expecting me to take a seat on the floor next to her.

Yeah, right, like I would risk ruining my pride.

I wanted to laugh. If she wasn't five, I would've but her little mind was too fragile for my kind of humor. Besides, if I made her cry again mom would have my head. Instead, I shook my head and patted her softly on the head as I walked over to the kitchen. She pouted, sticking her bottom lip out, but returned to the TV screen once I was no longer in her line of sight.

I smirked to myself.

"Hey mom," I said, sauntering through the hallway and to the kitchen. When her eyes met mine, she relaxed but the dark circles under her eyes were still pretty obvious.

"Good morning, sweetie."

I felt the need to point out that it was nearly two but I stopped myself before saying anything. The last thing mom needed was a reminder of how old she was. She did, however, need to take some sort of vacation. Ever since Lucy came around, she's been attending to the tiny goblin's every want and need.

More of wants than needs, in truth.

She'd even quit her job. Once, she told me that she felt guilty about never being there for the three of us, never watched us grow up. She said she didn't want to make the same mistake again by missing out on Lucy and the rest of us as we became men. I figured she'd add something like that at the end. Mom was a sentimental person.

Opening the fridge, I debated between cold pizza and a half-eaten donut. Cheesy goodness or glazed perfection? Tough one. Vince would probably want the donut later so I opted for the pizza. I took it out from its bag, placed it inside the toaster, and waited, drumming my fingers on the counter.

Mom was chopping some onions, tearing up a little. Suddenly, Lucy came running into the kitchen, a monkey stuffed toy in tow. She was angry with something, I could tell by the clenched fist at her side. After all, that was my habit way before it was hers.

"Mommy, Macky and Vince are home. They stole the TV," she whined. Mom sighed, placing down the knife she was using to chop with. She picked Lucy up, carrying her up the stairs.

Soon enough, I heard the familiar ting of the toaster. "And that's my cue," I say while hurriedly grabbing the pizza and placing it on a plate. I was about to leave when mom called after me.

"Not so fast, mister."

Damn. I swear that woman had some sort of psychic ability. She smiled at Lucy, kissing her on the cheek. "Why don't you take a nap for a little while. I'll see what Jared can do about the TV for you, okay?"