How to love

eight: Dracula, actually.

Frankie's point of view:

I stare out of the cabbie's window to the familiar passing neighbourhood. The corner store I worked at, the park I hung out in, the school I went too. Home. The place I was born, the place I grew up, the place I loved and hated. But it was home, and boy did it feel good to be back.

I smile at my surroundings, stepping from the cab and shoving cash into the drivers hand. He tips me goodbye and leaves me staring up at the two-story house. After college, Flo and David had saved enough money to move here and begin to create their family home. They painted the door bright blue, painted the window panes white and even pitched a white picket fence. It was beautiful and I was always insanely jealous. I wanted this house, I wanted to see the large tree in the front garden loose its leaves in the winter and watch them grow in the spring.

But now, the picture perfect home was overtaken and looked like something from a horror movie. Fake skeletons were strewn across the lawn, a Frankenstein waiting by the front door that was splattered in fake blood. I laugh to myself, whereas everyone's favourite holiday was more than likely Christmas, Flo and her husband Paul's favourite was Halloween.

"Aunty Frankie!"

I was tackled with the tiny little body that reached my waist and my heart immediately warmed with sheer happiness. As she raced past the plastic figure, the Frankenstein moved and made a noise making Vivian giggle in glee.

"I picked that! Mommy said it might scare away the kids though." She innocently grins, leading us up the garden path and into the cosy warm home. It smelt like cinnamon and matches. "Mommy, daddy! Aunty Frankie is here!"

Flo was in the kitchen, dishing out cookies onto trays. They were in shapes of bats and ghosts, making me giggle. Everything was ready for their party. I duck under a spiderweb that drape from the ceiling to hug my big sister, whose cheeks were splashed with flour. She squeezes me tightly before scolding Vivian who pinched a bat shaped cookie from the counter.

"Is dad not here yet?" I ask her, climbing up onto the stool that sat at their breakfast bar. Vivian broke her cookie, thrusting out the non-bitten half to me. She grins happily as I accept, her dangling legs kicking as she hums.

"He's out the back with Paul, something went wrong with the bike and for some reason he thinks Paul knows something about bikes." She lets out a large laugh, pulling the cupcakes from the fridge. "He's probably just standing out there with hands in pockets and agreeing with everything dad is saying. Anyway, where's your friend you were bringing?"

I frown, biting into the sweet cookie. "He has a meeting. He should be here soon though, he knows the party starts at six."

At the mention of my company being a male, Flo's eyes grew twice their size. She licks her finger clean as she places the last cupcake on the orange tray and dismisses Vivian outside to let dad know I was back. She watches their backdoor close and spins to me, hands flat against the counter top.

"Why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend, Flo." I tell her, my stomach tightening at even the thought. My boss being my boyfriend?

"So who is he? Oh please tell me you're not just hooking up with someone, you're so much better than that-"

"I am not!" I shriek. "What do you take me for? Jesus. No, he is a friend. Just a friend and will always be a friend. Enough interrogation, I'm a grown woman - I am very much capable of having a male acquaintance that don't involve any sexual interaction."

She huffs as the door swings open. My dad, only in his mid-fifties never looked a day over forty and even with two daughters and granddaughter, the man didn't have a grey hair in sight.