Where It All Began: Book Two: Harry & Sarah [ON HOLD]

Chapter One: Introductions

Where It All Began: Harry and Sarah:

Chapter One:

Sarah’s POV:

I walked down the crickety, light colored, wooden stairs; down, down, down to the tan-walled kitchen. I yawned loudly as I turned on my heavenly Keurig coffee maker. I turned my K-Cup holder until I found my favorite- Café Mocha. I inserted the small, coffee ground-filled cup into the tiny confined space it was made for. When the machine heated up, I pulled out my favorite coffee to-go mug (a large stainless steel travel mug I use- very literally- all of the time, decorated with the Notre Dame logo in navy blue print. [more on that later]) and placed it under the little spout where the coffee comes out. I pressed the button for the second-to-largest serving of coffee. I’d need the caffeine if I planned on finishing all of my books. When my coffee was finally finished pouring in to my large cup, I smelled the delicious drink before setting it down on my counter and pulling out my Caramel Macchiato coffee creamer and pouring a fair amount into my coffee. I stirred it up a bit before twisting the lid on my mug and taking a small sip of the delicious mix.  

I heard the door that came from the garage to the small hallway leading to the kitchen open. “Sarah? I’m home!” I heard my godfather, Moe- short for Maurizio (meaning dark-skinned [which does, yes, very much suit the short, half skinny/half not with fading dark hair and an almost grey mustache.]), shout from the doorway. “And…” he mumbled. “I’ve brought groceries.” He smiled. As he walked in from the hallway, he placed the grocery bags on the counter and grabbed both sides of my head before kissing the very top. “I will make best food for us tonight!” His Italian accent could be clearly heard as well as his very broken English. “Right, my dear? Perfetto.” He grinned.

“Hey, Moe.” I smiled. “And yes, of course. Only the best.” I watched as he unpacked the groceries from the large brown paper bags. “Hey, I finished listening to my book this morning.” I spoke proudly. “Speaking of which, I need to continue my current one. I’ll be in my room, zio.” (Zio= uncle. No, he isn’t my uncle, but he’s close enough.) I began walking- with coffee (which I drank religiously) in hand- right back up the wooden stairs.

“My dear, you need to get out.” I heard Moe complain. I stopped midway up the staircase.

“I’m fine right here, padrino.” (Padrino= godfather) “I like homeschooling. I like being alone.”

“Sarah, you drink more coffee than soda, you read more than you socialize and you have more books than you have friends.” He said with very, very  broken English.

“And I am happy, padrino. I really am. Me and Charlie.” I smiled at him.

“Charlie? A-who is this-a Charlie?” he questioned protectively sounding very Italian.

“From The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Pre-spontaneity stage.”

Moe groaned. “My love, you must learn to live again.” He climbed up to the stair below mine and grabbed my cheeks before kissing my forehead.

“I know. I will. It just takes time.” I said forcing a smile.

I climbed up the rest of the stairs and took a sharp turn to my super large room on the right. I took a sip of my coffee and walked over to my crème based queen sized bed decorated with a light, light green and teal (and white) comforter, and green, blue, and off-white pillows (both throw pillows and regular), and off-white sheets. The bed was located (standing at my door) at the front of the room, about four feet away from the small bit of wall located on its right and about five or six feet away from the small nook located farther to the right. That small nook was the far right end of my room and it is where I spent a vast majority of my time. There was a large bench on that nook that lay next to the large window. Moe bought a small teal cushion to lie there, so I could be comfy. In between my bed and the small bit of wall, was my bedside table complete with a lamp, a teal colored tissue box, and a goblet-shaped decorative item. Behind the table and next to my bed, was a window almost as long as the wall itself (long, not wide) decorated with green, blue, and teal colored window drapes. To the left of my bed was another window (identical) and in front of the window, another table (this one larger because it had to minute wall limits). The table, like the other one, was off-white. On this table, laid another (identical) lamp, a small vase with light green flowers (authentic, of course, I do alternate flowers when Moe brings them home for me from his job at “Negozio di Fiori di Moe” [Moe’s Flower Shop]). The table also had a small, decorative glass bowl. Directly in front of my bed, displayed two identical white- with- blue- cushion chairs, sitting at an angle across from each other. A bit in front of and in the middle of the two chairs was a beautifully patterned white ottoman. On the ceiling dangled a white ceiling light, the outermost layer decorated the same as the ottoman. I didn’t turn the light on much…I got most of my light from the windows and that was just fine with me. The thing I liked most about my room was my dresser (which was really a huge desk with a lot of drawers), located next to my walk in closet. For upon my dresser/desk, laid a simple white frame holding a picture of me and my family. My father- a tall, thin-but-fit- man wearing a white button down dress shirt and black dress pants with a black sophisticated tie around his neck (along with his black string necklace with a charm shaped like a cloud or a gust of wind maybe- with his shiny dirty blonde hair slightly messy, but to a certain degree where it did not look messy at all, his chin and lower cheeks decorated with light stubble that didn’t look half bad. My mother, standing right next to him, wearing a simple white summer dress with a sparkly silver necklace that graced a charm shaped like a beautiful tree. Her hair the same dark raven color I remember, perfectly curled and pinned on one side with a sparkly silver barrette. My older brother, Tyler, standing on the other side of my mother, with his fancy white dress shirt and black skinny tie and classy black loose fitting skinny jeans. His dark, dark hair messily side-swept, but undoubtedly attractive. His black string necklace with a swallow (bird) charm. And then me. With my blonde hair (a bit lighter than Dad’s) and white peasant blouse and black shorts. My sparkly sliver chain hanging around my neck with the chrysanthemum charm, reminding me that even though we are all so different…we have that one little thing in common. I turned away from the photo and grabbed my computer from the spot next to the picture and walked over to my small nook.