Bittersweet Moments

14 | Whipped Cream

14 | Whipped Cream

The force to unite Jackson and me, I guessed, was a dog named Swissybuns.

Screaming loudly like I've never screamed before, I dropped to the floor, a splash of cold water dousing my body. I groaned and pushed the curtain of wet hair from my face. My foot was inside a pail and my clothes were all soaked. Countless times of trying to get up, but ending up slipping, I gave up and laid on the floor.

Looking around the kitchen, it was half as better than what it looked like after the dog-tornado swooped up. Utensils were washed and put back, the fridge was stocked with the food that didn't end up on the floor while the others went straight to the garbage, and Jackson even found a screwdriver to fix the unhinged cupboard. The stains were hardest to take off, though. We scrubbed the walls, the counter and the islands, but then since the floor was a great deal of work, I suggested we flooded it.

We did it a lot of times in the shop. It was this whole cleaning event where we just messed around and poured water on the floor, leaving evaporation and drainage to drink up the mess. Sadly, now, the floor was still wet and so was I.

Maira could wake at any moment and I refused to see any of her rage.

I heard someone curse. Again, pushing the hair out of my face, I saw Jackson entering the kitchen. "I'll say it once more, sweets," he looked around at the clutter I've created, "That was a great idea."

I pointed at him, "You shut your mouth and help me out." He laughed and carefully treaded through the water to grab both my arms. I was about to slip again but he caught my waist.

In all honesty, I was still bemused of how sudden we could become friends just because of a chaos Brennan brought on.

I shook my fingers in front of his face to sprinkle some water on it. "This is unrecognized genius and you're just too dumb to see it," I sassed. He only smiled and put the bucket right side up.

"There's a drain between the counter and the fridge, so the water's going down there," he gestured at the said drain, "The living room's fixed as far as I could do. The couch still has a tear, though. I can't run a sewing machine on that."

Wringing my wet shirt, I asked him, "What about your Dad's office, though? Room?"

"The office's getting renovated so that was as messy as it could get even before the dog arrived. My room will be fine – I'll fix it up myself."

We haven't seen any sign of Brennan or that beast since we shooed the former out of the living room. I just hope that idiot hadn't chased his pet out of the house and all over Los Angeles or else we'll all be done. That dog was going to be the death of all of us.

"You okay?" Jackson asked me, "I could get a towel for you."

I stared at him for some time, wondering how this boy could get so confusing. Finally, after the pregnant pause, I shook my head and told him we'll have to be focused on that dog and his brother.

"Were you serious about Maira?" I grabbed a mop and started sopping up the remaining puddles. Fortunately, those mysterious liquid substances from the tiles were off after a little scrubbing and the water. "About really getting super angry?"

"Angry, and ruthless, yes," he grabbed a rag and helped me. "One time, Brennan took all of her makeup and put it on his face and then wore this dress. We found him hanging by ribbons of the dress on the chandelier. Mom did absolutely nothing – she didn't let him wash his face or get the dress and bra off himself. For two weeks, he looked like the love child of the Joker and Barbie."