THE SEVENS.

Chapter Two.

"We may speak about a place where there are no tears, no death, no fear, no light: but those are just the benefits of heaven. The beauty of heaven is seeing God" Max Lucado.

We sit in a restaurant for a family celebratory lunch.
With the exception of Ben that is. Who at the moment stares at me. Worry visible in his eyes.

"You okay?" He asks, lacing our fingers together.

" Yeah," I give him a small smile. "Why do you ask."

"Your just look sad, not an expression to wear on a special day."

"I'm fine," I squeeze his hand reassuringly. He looks as if he doesn't believe me.

"Really, just thinking of how August would be graduating with us today".
This is part of the truth.
His eyes turn pained. He nods stiffly, and continues to eat his lunch.

I poke at my food with a fork in my free hand. A classic Italian lasagna dish, served only at Sals' Italian. The only Italian restaurant around at the edge of a Port city. We have came to this restaurant ever since Isaia was born. Five years before August and I were born. And when August and I came along, the tradition continued. Until this day, 17 years later we still come. For family dinners, birthdays, dates even.

The interior of the restaurant is a woodsy design.

Simple yet elegant.

The round tables are dark brown mahogany, adorned in simple cream cloths. The walls are a sandy texture of cream and the ceilings a dark forest green, with mini chandeliers hanging over every table.

This is simply magical.

I feel a hand touch my hand that hovers  over my half eaten lasagna. I look up to see an identical pair of eyes staring at me.

I smile at my mother.

"So what are you gonna do with me and Isaia out of the house?" I ask.

She chuckles. "You are not out of the house yet"

I roll my eyes at that.

"Ray?"
I shift my gaze to my brother who by this point had finished the two plates of pasta he ordered. "You going to finish that?"

I follow his gaze to my plate. Raising an eyebrow, I silently push the plate across to him.
"Mum you raised an animal," I say dead panned.

Ben who was drinking a glass of water, chokes and starts to beat at his chest.
Isaia ignores my comment and continues to eat my lunch.

My mother just laughs, and I relish in the sweet melody of her laughter. Its good to see my mother happy.

I push away from the table and mention for Ben to follow. The scraping of the chair against the wooden floor boards is loud in the small restaurant that had gone silient when Ben started choking on his water.