Still. . .Thank You

Chapter 8

  The first thing that we heard as we go downstairs is the murmured whispers of our parent's conversation. We stopped on the last step, straining to catch a wisp of what the conversation had been.

"Are you sure he's not - "

"Yes, I'm sure! Did you call the kids?"

  We finally decided that it was an appropriate time to enter the kitchen. We try to shake off the awkward silence by asking what was for dinner. Mom looks up from her papers when we sat down and replied, saying: "Since I've been so busy with work today, your father kindly offered to make it."

  We both looked at him from across the table, feeling uneasy. He had been silently watching the interaction and smirked when he realized that he now had our undivided attention. "D-Dad, What d-did you do for dinner?" I ask after a moment of his unblinking stare.

"You'll see . . ." Dad said before standing up and going into the kitchen to bring the food. My brother and I lean close together, sharing a worried look. We make sure that Mom wasn't paying attention and lowered our voices.

"What do you think he made this time?" Eros asked me.

"I don't even know anymore! Last time, Dad made a Veggie Lasagna."

"It actually tasted good in the end, but he only made it because Mom said that she was dieting and wanted the family to follow her 'healthy choices'."

"He made it with meat sauce, Eros. Why make a vegetarian dish if it's going to end up an omnivorous one?"

"He said we had to have at least something to look forward to in every meal. Good thing the baby didn't agree with her 'healthy choices'."

"Okay, but what about that time when he made us a sandwich, told us 'Don't worry about what's in there' and to this day we still don't know what he put in it - it tasted weird."

" Besides that dish, all the dishes that he makes are surprisingly good."

  I nodded in agreement, taking note of the small smile that Mom was trying to hide. She did have a reason to smile - This is the most that she's heard Eros interact in over three days. He usually only talks this much when he's talking about his daughter, complaining, in a good mode, or when he used to be talking about his ex-girlfriend (that's right - keywords being 'ex-girlfriend' and 'used to').

  As I stare off into space, Dad comes into the room interrupting my thoughts - well everyone's thoughts - by stating that dinner was ready.

"What is it?" Eros and I ask at basically the same time. Dad purses his lips as he sets down the dish, purposely blocking it with his body. He turns and places a hand at his side before even considering answering us.

"Oh, you know . . . the usual 'whatever the flack I want' with a side dish of 'eat it or starve'.

  Mom stops her work and lifts her head up to give him a quick look, sighing as she returns her gaze back to her work. "What?" Dad says as we all stare at Mom smiling down at her paper. Dad bits his lip and after a few seconds of silence pass, he explodes. "What? Say something, don't just stare down at the papers like that, it's intimidating and a little bit creepy."

  Mom suddenly stops smiling and visibly flinches - bad move to make on a pregnant woman. We silently pray for Dad as she takes deep breaths, slams her hands on the table and slowly turns towards him. She licks her lips before opening her mouth and we can already see our dad slumping into his chair in defeat.

"Ey! Do you want me to say something about your unusual cooking skills and childish behavior? Do you, because I can! Don't speak like that, we can't be a bad influence on our kids! That's why they're like that, you-you bootlace!" Mom glares at Dad until he eagerly nods at her stomach, too scared to look into her eyes. Mom sighs before she continues - while we listen in, taking our portions of an actually normal dish.

"I've been going on day after day for a whole week trying to finish two months worth of work before I can apply for maternity leave. Why? It's because I have clients who are dependent on me and I can't let them - or my boss - down. I am a responsible person, unlike your father that decided he was going to take a month off a high paying job because he thinks that 'the baby can arrive at any time' and 'didn't want to miss all the action.' Mind you, I'm not even close to my delivery date!" 

  He nods, filling her plate while she rambles on. Dad had learned very early on in the pregnancy to just accept the mood swings as they come and go. Every time she stopped to take a breath, He would agree, repeating ''You're right, you're right" under his breath, and fed her parts of her meal. We look away and try our hardest not to laugh. Mom is probably the one that cursed the most before the baby came and had an attitude to match (still does actually, if you couldn't tell). She is also very sarcastic and only has a filter when it comes to working.

 Eros briefly looked at his phone, quickly finished his meal, and excused himself form the table. Mom soon finished arguing with Dad and just as quickly turned on us (she spoke extra loudly for Eros to hear). She started to lecture us about how we should appreciate our father's weird creations and how at least he remembers to keep us fed because she sure wouldn't've. When she calmed down, a wild Eros appeared. He started to ramble how hard it was to make formula and how the least that his ex could do was give us more than just ten packets of breastmilk before she left. My mom looked up at him from her work, eyebrows scrunched together in worry.

 "I can always breastfeed her, you know - I don't want you to be too stressed"

 "Eww, Mom. What am I going to tell her when she's older? 'You see grandma's titties? Yeah, You drank from that for two years straight'"

 Mom just shrugged with a smug smile and mischievous eyes.

 "Like this: 'Eros, your grandmother breastfeed you until you were four.' See, not so hard to do."

 Eros paled and expressed a pained expression before he quietly muttered, "Please say sike."

 "It's true. While I was attending college, you guys lived with your grandmother and I was only able to visit when I could - bringing with me as much milk packets as I could. Hey, at least she taught you guys Spanish during the four years that you lived with her."

 Eros twisted the cap on quickly, scowling. I tried to hold it in, but I burst out laughing at his expression. Mom turned to me quickly and raised her eyebrows.

 "You too. Where do you think you were at the time - China, Canada, France? Let me tell you something - You weren't no princess, you were together ALL THE TIME."

 I blushed and fanned myself with my hand, feeling the heat of that burn.

 "Thanks, I feel better now!" Eros said before tapping me on the shoulder and going upstairs to wake Violet for her feeding.

Mom quickly shouted, "If you want to start a family tradition you know where I'm at!" I cringed hard and told them to eat well before I quickly left the dining table. As I passed her, Mom opened her mouth to say something else  - Nope, nope, nope. I ran up the stairs.