Head Strong.

Ketchup Time.

"Hey Uncle- What...are you doing?" I asked, as he busied himself in the kitchen.

"Well, it's been about ten years, so I think we need to- there's the ketchup! Like I was saying, we need to catch up." He looked at the bottle of sauce in his hand. Then he looked up at me. "Bad pun?"

"Sort of. So what did you have in mind for niece and uncle time?"

"Cook dinner together? I'm sure Rayna would have taught you a thing or two about the kitchen, right?" He asked.

"Yeah. Well, I mean she tried, but in case you didn't realize, I'm not a girly-girl."

"Don't have to be a girly-girl. Just have to be a girl."

"Ex-fucking-cuse me?" I said, as I threw the nearest thing at him: a tea towel. Well, that was the second closest thing. The closest thing was actually a knife, and I am not the stupid.

We laughed for a bit. He turned on the stove. "So... Do you know how to make pasta?"

I chuckled and jumped over the bench with one hand, kicking my legs over the side.

"Mum always got up me for doing that." I said, a bit sadly, playing through all the times when I thought she wouldn't see me jump the bench. Then I walked over to the freezer and pulled out the mince.

"Like so." I said, getting a pan and popping the mince in the microwave to thaw it out a little.

While we made me dinner, we talked about Uncle Al's life back in the USA.

"So Uncle Al, what sort of business do you run?" I asked him.

"I sell computers and phones." He replied casually.

The conversation was more in depth then that. Than we started talking about my life here.

"So Bobbi, is there a guy in your life?" Uncle Al said, cheekily elbowing me in the rib.

I looked over to him. I smiled a little. I felt my cheeks go the slightest bit red. "Maybe..."

I think Uncle Al understood me. "Details!" He exclaimed.

"I didn't say no or yes." I countered.

"You said maybe."

"Which is neither yes or no! Hah!"

And when we ran out of stuff to talk about, we felt the nostalgia kick in and we started talking about all the good times we had with Rayna.

"Did your mother ever tell you about the time she was the lead in her high school band?" Uncle Al said casually.

"Shut...Up! No way!" I exclaimed, as I accidently splattered the pasta sauce on the white tiles behind the stove.

"Yes way! I think she may have locked everything up. It wasn't a good time for her." Uncle Al said.

"Oh. Well that explains why she never told me. What happened?" I asked.

"Well, she was the older sister, so the pressure was on her to succeed. She always pushed herself to far though. She was always trying to make our parents proud. But they never gave her the slightest bit of attention. It was all directed at me, and I hated it." Uncle Al said, taking the finished pasta off the stove.

"So...What happened?" I asked, not sure if I wanted to know the answer.

"She started to cut." He said normally.

"WHAT?!" I was so shocked, I didn't even know what to think. Though I did nearly drop the glass plates from shock.

"Yup." Uncle Al said calmly.

"Wow. Anything else I need to know about my dead mother's past?" I didn't mean to say it with the amount of bitchiness I put in it, but that's how it came out.

"Well, would you like to know about your basterd of father?" Uncle Al quizzed me.

"I don't know do I?" I replied nervously.

He chuckled. "Well, he wasn't abusive at all. Until y'all get married. I don' know what happened then."

As it appeared, the way Uncle Al had described my bastard of father, was completely different to how Rayna described him.

Then again, like he said, this was before the marriage, before I was born.

Maybe my 'father' isn't my father after all?