The World Behind My Wall

Chapter Twenty Four: Making Poutine With The Queen

I stayed up until 2 am writing this, while binge watching episodes of Tokio Hotel tv. Bad idea, as I had to babysit the nephews 6 hours later. Enjoy!

With all the kids in bed, Carolyn, Annie and I sat in the laundry room sorting through the bags of clothes, taking off price tags. Annie told us of her experiences with homeschooling verses the American public school system, as she'd lived in the US for the majority of her schooling, and knew of its flaws. I thought the schools in Canada had been bad... Here it was just awful. Worse than awful to be honest.

A vehicle pulled into the driveway around nine o'clock and we heard the doors shut. Tom's voice drifted in through the open window, as well as the laughter of Bill and Georg. "I'll finish up, you two go on ahead."

"You sure?" Asked Annie and I nodded. "Well okay. I'll send Bill in?"

"Yeah. Thanks." They leave and I collect the tags scattered all over the floor, dropping them in a trash bin. I start a load of darks; Mom always washed new clothes before allowing us to wear them. She always said you never knew who had tried them on before you, what germs and illnesses they may have carried.

There were at least five more loads to go, but I didn't mind at all. Laundry used to be my most hated chore, but now, it calmed my anxiety. The noise from the spin cycle relaxed me, as weird as that may sound. I finished sorting the whites from the darks and put them in different baskets before leaving the room, passing my sister and Tom on the staircase.

Bill: where art thou my love? 😍😍

Me: you're so lame omg Bill 🙄☺️

Bill: not as lame as you, lame-o

Bill: I can practically hear you blushing Ellie

Me: it's impossible to hear someone blushing

Me: I'm downstairs. Where are you?

Bill: the kitchen

Bill: I'm hungry

Bill: the guys got takeout but I was sort of hoping you would make me something.

Me: ok I guess I will

"So what do you want to eat, then?" I asked upon entering the kitchen where Bill stood next to the fridge, his phone in hand.

"As long as you make it, I don't care." He looked at me and smiled, clearly happy to see me.

"Aww, how sweet! You like my cooking! But really who doesn't?" I say with a grin and he hugs me, lifting me off the ground. He smells like sweat and the perfume of other women, which does not surprise me at all, not with the amount of females he typically comes across in a day. Most girls would pitch a fit if they smelled someone else's perfume on their man, but I honestly did not see the point in that. I had absolute faith and trust (and pixie dust!) in him, knowing for a fact that he would not cheat mainly because he was not that type of person. He knew what it felt like, being cheated on, and would not cause someone else that sort of pain if he had the choice. I mean sometimes things happen, like for example trying to force oneself on someone in a committed relationship, and that was sort of a different situation. But in my opinion it's really quite stupid to get mad at someone for something they really can't control, especially if another person is attempting to make a move.

"Well no shit!" He laughed and checked the freezer for French fries; there were none. But I'd just have to make do with the potatoes in the cupboard under the microwave.

"Poutine sound good? Carolyn found this local farmer who makes his own cheese and bought some." I suggest and he nods. "Alright, I'll start cutting the potatoes into wedges and you can start on grating the cheese. Which should be next to Elliot's soy milk, on top of an egg carton." The eggs were from the same place as the cheese. I had been there once, and the guy who owned the animals only sold products the animals produced. He didn't believe I killing them, because he saw them as his pets, and really respected him because of that. So that's where we got our milk, cheese, eggs, and sometimes yoghurt and ice cream. It tasted much better than what was sold in any store as well.