What We Were

Chapter 1: Part 3

As I walked home, I thought to myself about this irrational situation. This morning he was completely normal then the next thing you know, he’s mad at me for something! I’ve never seen this side of him before. Raged and Short-tempered is not at all like Noah. Maybe, something was happening with school. No, that’s impossible. Noah is a straight A student, along with extra-curricular classes. He even tutors me sometimes. That couldn’t be it.

Maybe, it was something going on with his family? Maybe his mom lost her job, and he is stressed on finding one to help out? No, that’s silly! His mom works in Criminal Justice. She could never lose her job! She’s a high paid lawyer for Burke and Hanson’s Law Firm. She is a well-respected employee.

So then what could it be? I know that Noah was really nervous when mentioning the dance. That was it! Noah was nervous that he wouldn’t get a date for the dance!...

But he wouldn’t make a huge deal out of that alone. He wouldn’t raise his voice at me because of that. Then what could it possibly be? I had no idea, or at least no certain idea. I tried to forget about it. Who knows maybe he was just having a less than adequate day.

I walked into my house, closed the door, and headed for the kitchen. There was mom; she was in a nice dress with her hair pulled back. “Hey, there she is! Patrick! She’s home.”

“What’s the occasion?” I asked as I entered the kitchen.

Patrick appeared in the doorway. He fixed his glasses and came to hug me.  “Hey champ! How was school?”

“Oh I made sure to do an efficient amount of drugs and alcohol. Ooohh, and also talked back to the principal. Overall, not a bad Friday.”

           He smiled at me. Pat and I always joked around like that. It started when mom used to watch the news too often. She would get worried that I might be raped, killed, or kidnapped on my way to school. That’s when she suggested that Noah and I walk to school together. My dad got a kick out of it! He would always joke around after dinner and call out to her.

“I’m gonna go put out the trash. Let me have the flashlight in case I get mugged by the local gangsters and I need to identify them. Or at least let me have the kitchen knife for protection from the rapists looking for a bald, fit, good looking middle aged man, such as myself.”

She cooled off after a couple years of me going to school with Noah and Emma going to daycare on a bus. That gave her the rest of the day with Pat. He always knew how to uh as he called it, “Put her at ease” ;).

It had gotten really bad when Emma was born. She was always worried that Emma would get sick, so she was always cleaning. Then, when Emma was two, mom got even worse. Emma got a cold, not a big deal to Pat and I, but Mom on the other hand went frantic.

She kept saying that she needed to get Emma to a hospital. Even though we cleaned and bleached the house from top to bottom, she would still obsess over the littlest thing.  From then on, Dr. Carlson has prescribed her Xanax for her anxiety. She got a little better after that, but honestly I think it was dad who cured her. Every once in a while he would take her on a little adventure. Usually, he took her to great restaurants, quiet little parks to feed the ducks, or just a small sitting spot where she could write. Mom loved to write when she was younger, she even wrote a book. She never wanted to publish it though; it was never quite “ready”. He really just cleared her head of all the craziness that was tucked in the corners of her brain. That’s one of the many reasons why she loves him.

“Oh no occasion, I just wanted to cook you and Em’ a little dinner before we left.” Mom said. “Where are you taking her this time Casanova?” I asked dad.

“Now, you know I never tell you guys where the secret place is!”

“Oh right. I forgot, well you guys have fun. I’m gonna go upstairs and finish some homework.”

Dad gave me the signature look that he and I shared,“Homework, on a Friday?”

I just nodded and scampered upstairs. I really wanted to check my phone in case Noah had called. Nothing. I sighed and collapsed on the bed. I decided to call him to make sure he was ok, or if he got raped by the local gangsters. No answer. But as I was about to turn off my phone, I heard my ringtone. I quickly picked up. “Hello?”