Bad Meets Good

I'm So Sorry

Cooking. Some loathe it unconditionally while others adore it with a thriving passion. For London’s mom, it’s a love hate relationship between them two. It’s a delight to have everything finally completed but it is the preparation—the cleaning, the seasoning, the frying, and the baking—that irks her. She would’ve loved if her husband or her own daughter would think about helping her after all this time yet they didn’t. She feels the appreciation.

Seconds after grabbing a water bottle from the refrigerator, she joins her husband on the cozy couch in the living room. The cool crisp taste of the water gliding down her throat is vitalizing, making her sink back into the couch in content. She’s exhausted. Talking a long nap in her bed is all that’s on her mind right about now.

When the television goes on commercial break, Mark looks away from it and glances over at her and smiles. “Is everything done?”

She glares at him. “What do you think? I’ve been slaving in that kitchen for hours.”

“Hey,” he says while throwing his hands in a surrendering manner. “I offered my help.”

“Helping and eating the food while I’m cooking are two different things. In case you didn’t know, Mark.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re just like London.”

He laughs. “You mean she’s just like me,”

“Whatever,” she mutters. “Speaking of her, she’s been awfully quiet up there with Harry. She better not be doing what I think she’s doing.”

“Relax,” Mark says. “They’re up there wrapping presents. Besides, if they were doing anything, I would’ve heard it by now. Her room is right above us.”

“I guess you’re right. She’s just growing up so fast, you know?” she says before frowning. “She’s about to turn eighteen pretty soon and before you know it, she’s going to be going off to college.” Just the thought of having her daughter miles away from her for a long period makes her ache in her chest. She’s their only child and she already knows it’s going to be hard to let her go.

He nods his head in agreement. “The house isn’t going to be the same without her. But then again, we’re barely home anyways.”

“And Harry too,”

“What about him?”

“He’s her first boyfriend and you know…what if that happens to her and we’re not physically here for her?”

Mark sighs. “If we taught her one thing, it’s to be strong no matter what and to always grasp a learning experience from every misfortune she comes across. She’s far from stupid and I know for a fact that she isn’t going to let it destroy her.” He says.

Kicking her foot upon the stand, she says, “It will at first, but you’re right. Can you go upstairs and get her? It doesn’t take that long to wrap gifts…”

He hands her the remote from off of his lap before standing up and stretching. He’s been sitting down for an eternity, fixated in one location as if he was a statue, and it feels great to have his back crack some to relieve the tension. He ascends up the sanded staircase in a leisurely manner. He finds no need to run up the stairs and even if he did, he probably wasn’t going to do it. He has better things to exert his energy into—eating, watching tv, and most importantly, getting London’s gift inside of the house without making any noise.

As he reaches the peak of the steps, the first thing he realizes is her room door—it is closed. He’s almost positive that it was wide open when he had first come downstairs. Aside from that, it’s awfully quiet and his curiosity heightens.