My So-called Bride

Vow 1: My So-called Destiny

                 

My destiny came to me. By a letter for my grandfather.

It might be a bit confusing to you now. But I'll explain that later.

It was a bright, early morning, as regular as the others. I was there in our little kitchen, as always cooking breakfast for our family. When your mom was a busy book editor who worked almost non-stop everyday, as her kid, it was our least responsibility to help her with the house chores, like preparing three squares of meals for the family.

"Okay, let's see," I mumbled to myself. While placing the breakfast dishes on the dining table, I then rested my apron on a chair where I usually sit. "Omelette, cooked. Apple, juiced. Toasts, well, toasted. And all what's left is to wake them up."

Before I reached the staircases, I heard someone rushing down with a really hurried pace that I thought she'd trip herself and fall. Immediately I knew whose footsteps it was.

"Morning, Mom." I greeted to the woman with a hairbrush sticking out of her brown, curly hair. I couldn't help but chuckled. "That's a nice hairbrush you got there."

She reached for the hairbrush and rolled her eyes. After she removed the hairbrush from her hair, she replied. "Morning, sweetie."

Mom took a glimpse at the clock and she gasped. She quickly got into her seat and began to stuff toast and omelette inside her mouth. A muffle escaped her stuffed mouth that sounded vaguely like, "Oh I'm late. I'm late. I'm so late."

One thing about my mom, she was a very fast eater. She could gulp down a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken Wings in a blink before you could even say, "I'm Lovin' It."

Oh wait, that was McDonald's.

As she finished stuffing, mom grabbed herself a full glass of fresh apple juice and gulped the whole thing.

I looked at my wrist and pretended I'm wearing a timer. "Two minutes and fifty-five seconds. Wow, a new record! You sure you don't wanna sign up for the Guinness World Record?"

"Thanks for your valuable and unnecessary suggestion. I will consider it when I have the time." Mom playfully winked at me. She took one last glimpse at the clock again. Her widening eyes were telling me that she was going to be late for her meeting, possibly. Mom grabbed her bag full of manuscripts and dashed towards the door. Before she left for work, she yelled. "Bye, sweetie, have a nice day at school!"

The kitchen was quiet again. But only for a few seconds. A set of heavy footsteps later came down the stairs. Followed by a tapping sound of what I recognised from a cane.

"Morning, Gramps. Care for an omelette?"

"Don't mind if I do." Grandpa David put his cane to his side of the chair and sat at the table. Our dear old David here was in his eighties. Despite his seldom-aching knees, he was still energetic like a teenager. Even though his knees don't work well like it used to, whenever there was a senior prom night, he was there to attend.

"You look rather nice in that shirt today." I said.

That was our Dagwood House Rules No. 3: Compliment each other at least once a day. Our House Rules were established by Kenneth Dagwood, our dad, just to keep our family in harmony and peace. Some of the rules were weird, but I guessed it wouldn't hurt to at least say something nice to your grandparent. Even though it was something small as complimenting his green Hawaiian shirt.

Grandpa looked at me with his eyes wrinkled in delight. His lips lifted its corner without him noticing. But he waved me off as if I was being annoying. "Save the flattery for the women, kid. And isn't it about time you go get your siblings?"