Underlying Truths

Underlying Truths - Chapter One - "The Image"

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Underlying Truths - Chapter One - "The Image"

Five days after the burial, I found myself exhausted as I trudged up my driveway and into my house. For the first two nights, Will and I stayed at Spencer's as a support system. We tried our best to get his, and our own, spirits up. We all knew that we needed to move on, not to forget what had happened but to learn to live with it. I only received a day's leave from my summer job, which I worked at every other day, so come Wednesday, I was needed back at work. After two consecutive two-hour shifts, I was tired and craving for the comfort of my bed.

As I unlocked the front door and pushed it open, the silence of a mostly empty house greeted me. My dad was still at work, his job as a doctor stealing away most of his time. Though he wasn't always around, he still gave more than enough time to his family when needed. I left my shoes in a closet off to the side of the main foyer, opting to leave them downstairs. I walked through the living room, dropping my bag on the maroon overstuffed chair, as I made my way to the kitchen from which the smell of a newly baked banana loaf wafted.

"Mom," I started as I entered the deliciously smelling room. "I swear, sometimes I think you can read my mind."

My mom laughed and merely said that she knew her only daughter well. My older brother was away at medical school, doing summer school to gain an edge against the competition. He, too, was close friends with Spencer and Will, but was more of a brother figure to them than a best friend. They often called him for advice and talked to him when they needed non-female ears to listen.

I stared at the banana loaf, my mouth watering just at the smell and image of it.

"Let it cool first, honey," my mom warned. "Why don't you go take your stuff upstairs and change, first? When you come down, it'll be more than ready for you."

I nodded and agreed before grabbing my bag from the living room and climbing the stairs two at a time. The mere thought of consuming my mom's special-recipe banana loaf was enough to get me energized--or at least a little bit.

After changing into a pair of loose high school sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt, I turned my laptop on and left it to load as I made my way back down the stairs and into the kitchen. My mom smiled when she saw me, a small plate and a fork already in hand, just for me. The banana loaf was already sliced as I grab a piece and immediately started eating. It was warm in my mouth, making the taste of it all the more distinct. I noticed that she had added pieces of mixed some nuts to the top crust this time around.

"Do you like the new addition?" she asked with an inquiring smile. She sat down across from me in the small island of our kitchen. "I sprinkled them on top a bit before it was time to take the loaf out of the oven. Sometimes, I can't help myself from experimenting every now and then."

"It's delicious, mom," I said. "My shifts at the diner were so tiring today, and their cheesecakes there aren't even half as good as your banana loaf."

I quickly finished my piece, going on to eat another. As I finished, she told me to rest up a bit and not to eat more for now since she was going to begin on dinner.

"Okay, mom," I said as I began climbing the other set of stairs in our house located directly next to the kitchen, the other being in the main foyer. "Just call me down if you want or need any help. I won't mind."