3:26 am

s i x

s i x

"Hey, you," I smiled up at my brother as he opened the door to my parents house, greeting me. I hugged him on my way in and he hugged me back. "Spending the night?"

"I'm planning on it," I told him with a shrug as we walked into the house. Walt told me that my parents were in the living room, so we walked that way.

"No, that's not right, Matt," We walked in as my mom was standing behind my dad who was repositioning a painting on the wall. "It's upside down!"

"It is not upside down," My dad argued as he hung it up and took a step back to look at it. "That's how it goes, that's how I like it."

"Matthew, that looks horrible," Mom began to laugh and I looked up at Walt with furrowed eyebrows. He looked down at me and shrugged his shoulders. "Please put it up right."

"Marcie, that's how it goes," Dad looked back at mom and she placed her hands on her hips. "Fine, have it your way." Dad took the painting down and flipped it the other way. As he stepped back, I looked at the painting in distaste; Dad had clearly been right.

"You know what? I don't even like it, take it down, would you? We'll find something else." Mom glanced back in our direction and smiled widely once she noticed us standing there. "Oh! You're here."

"Hey, mom," I said, hugging her back as she made her way to me with her arms opened wide. "Still decorating?"

"Always decorating!"

"Where should I put this, Marce?" Dad said, gaining Mom's attention.

"Walt, could you take it up to the attic? You know where the paintings go," Mom said, looking over my head and at Walt. "On your way down, maybe bring a couple? I want to find something to go there, and I trust your eye."

"Yeah, will do," Walt took the painting from Dad and disappeared into the house.

"Hello, dear," Dad walked up to me and kissed my head before wrapping his arms around me. I hugged him back and smiled as he held me tightly. "If only your oldest brother was here, that would really be something."

"Walt and I are better than him anyway," I joked as I pulled away from Dad's embrace. He shrugged his shoulders and I laughed quietly.

"I'm making dinner, it'll be ready in a little while," Dad told me before leaving the room with a certain bounce to his step. I breathed in deeply and spun around once, taking everything in.

"You feeling okay, sweetheart?" Mom asked, sitting down on the couch. "You seemed distracted yesterday."

"It's the holidays, they just make me... think. You ever feel like that?" I asked, looking over at my mom as she observed me.

"Are you high?" My eyes widened and I let out a loud laugh. "Quincy, I'm serious."

"I know you are, that's why I'm so shocked," I walked to her and sat down beside of her. "I just have a lot on my mind, I haven't been smoking weed."

"I'm sorry, I don't why I asked," My mother was a conventional person with high expectations and specific rules. She was the only reason I had never smoked weed. Even at twenty-four I was terrified I'd disappoint her or get in trouble if she found out I had tried it out.

I was very impressionable.

"The other night I got a text from someone that I haven't talked to in a really long time... I just can't shake it, that's all," I promised her and she nodded slowly, believing me.

"Where'd you get that jacket?" Mom asked, taking in my appearance.

"Are you going to start critiquing me? You were sort of on a roll recently, you haven't insulted me in awhile," Mom gave me a look and I smiled at her deceptively. "I stole it from Anthony when I was still in high school, I use it as an extra layer when it gets too cold outside."