The Howling

Chapter Two

        Running a bakery meant waking up before the sun. She rose easily, heading downstairs to prep the shop. Wednesdays were generally slow so she allowed Emil to sleep in. He came down a few hours later, groggy and still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. 

        As Villette flipped the open sign on, Emil sank down onto one of the bar stools. 

        "Up late studying last night?" she asked, placing a fresh blueberry muffin before him. 

        He peeled the wrapper off and set it aside. "Yeah. But, thank God, this is the last night that I have to do so. After this, I am a free man until January."  

        She threw the wrapper away. With a cup of coffee, she moved around to the other side of the counter and sat beside him. "We should do something special this Christmas, you know? Last Christmas was rough without Mom and Dad. This one should make up for it." 

        "We should go to Disney World." 

        Villette giggled when she imagined their uncle dressed in a Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, and Mickey Mouse ears. "Can you image John in Disney World? It's too much happiness and cheer for him." 

        Emil grinned. "Yeah. You're probably right. We could rent a cabin in the woods somewhere. Mom used to love doing that, you remember? Especially around Christmas time, when there was that chill to the air. She loved the smell of the cold. Do you remember that one year, when the squirrels had snuck into the cabin we were staying in and we couldn't catch them?" 

        "And Dad was running around with the broom, because they had climbed up into the rafters and we couldn't reach them." She laughed, the image playing behind her eyes as if it had happened yesterday. Their father chased them back and forth, with their mother running after him, trying to help, while she and her brother sat on the sofa and laughed until they had fallen out of their seats. 

        Then the pinch hit her again. 

        She always called that ache in her gut, the one that pierced straight through her chest every time she missed her parents, the pinch. Because that's what it felt like. It was sharp and sudden, the pain itself never really lasting long. But then she would begin to think of everything she had done with her parents. And then those she would never get to do. 

        Her father would never walk her down the aisle if she were married. Her mother would never help her decorate her own apartment after she moved out. Her children, if she had children, would never know their grandparents; they would always have those questions just like she did. No more excursions to some quaint cabin in the woods, like old times. No more Christmases with the five of them huddled around some tree that took up nearly all the space in the living room. No more family dinners or game nights. Their group of five had dwindled to three, just her, Emil, and Uncle John. And they would never be able to go back. 

        Emil could see the look on her face, the one where she was always on the precipice of remembering. If she went over, she would be gloomy for days. She'd put on a brave face, sure, and pretend things were fine. But during those times when she tumbled over the edge, he could hear his sister crying herself to sleep or would find her in their parent's old room, staring blankly at the walls. 

        He put a hand on her shoulder and gently pulled her away from that cliff. "How about we celebrate the end of my midterms before we start thinking about Christmas?" 

        She turned towards him. She focused on him instead of her parents, concentrating on what she still had instead of what she had already lost. "And how would we go about doing that?"