Bad Timing

Chapter 7

Angel's Pov

Don't worry Angel. Nothing is going to happen; he will just pick up Everly and leave, that's it. I try not freaking out as I throw myself on the bed.

Are you kidding me? Kyle freaking Stone is coming at my house!!

After all this avoidance, after all this try on not seeing him, has gone wasted.

Damn it, Dave!

 I look at my clock at my dresser and I realise its five thirty. My mom still hasn't left for work and I want her to see that I'm going to babysit little Everly. She will ask questions and I'm not in the mood answering them.

I go downstairs and I see her shoes and coat are still at the door.

"Mom, when are you leaving?" I asked when I entered the kitchen.

"Umm, in a bit." She said as she put her books in her bag.

Meet my mom, everyone.

My mother doesn't look for a forty-year-old-working-mother with four children.

She doesn't even have a white string on her brown hair. She has a few wrinkles near her eyes but that's it. She does look young but if you see through her brown eyes you can see the wisdom and the experience she has.

...and the sorrow.

My mom is not the classic mother you read in books. She is not overprotective, she cares but she doesn't show it.

Especially with me.

Maybe with my sisters but not with me. I'm not complaining about it because I know the reason behind it.

I probably would do the same after what happened.

She works as an English teacher at a private night school and since that night it's the only thing she does all day. Even now with the babies.

I think it's because they have my looks. Blue eyes, blonde-brown hair.

The only thing she does with Artemis and Iris is to feed them.

"Angel, take care I will be back until nine. Your sister is at the library and the babies are at the nanny. She will bring them at eight. Your father will follow after." she said as she checked around if she forgot any of her papers and towards the front door.

My father. Let me tell you a few things about him.

After what happened he grew more distant than anyone. He barely talks to me and he closed up to himself. He works himself up every day. 

P.E teacher by day at the primary school, dancing teacher by night. He teaches people his age and over sixty, folk Greek dancing. Its part of our heritage, you see.

Being part Greek meant to help others and having all the time that word my Dad used to say...Kefi. It meant being happy and enjoy every little part of your life. Never let the bad memories drown you.

Too bad I don't have it anymore...

He used to be such a happy and open person. He had passions. Lots of them. Part of it was dancing. When my grandmother, God bless her soul, introduced him to folk dance that was it. My father found his path.