Forever & Always, Even if My Forever is Limited

F&A...Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I drove myself home that afternoon with visions of Taylor clouding my mind. Taylor and I taking a romantic walk through the park in the wintertime; Taylor putting his arm around me for the first time at the movies; Taylor and I having our first kiss while we slow danced in the rain. The thoughts made me dizzy with delight and hungry with desire.

Thankfully, I made it safely home. As soon as I walked in the door and dropped my bag, I was ambushed.

I squeaked in surprise as my mother hugged me from behind. "Hey, sweetie!" My mother laughed. Why was she so perky? I wiggled out of her grasp and plopped down on the living room couch.

"What's with the cake?" I asked her. On the coffee table was a neat, chocolate fudge cake with red roses all over it-my favorite.

My mother smiled one of her lovely smiles that I never usually get to see. "Do you know what the date is?" It was November 6th, but was so important about that? I shook my head. "Today marks the date of four years cancer free!" I could see that the day meant loads to her; a reminder that that awful ship had sailed long ago, and had not returned since. Still, I could see the fear in her eyes every day that it might.

She started to tear up. I rushed over and threw my arms around her, like I was five years old again. She hugged me tightly, and I felt like a child. I wished I could be younger again. The age where the only thing you had to worry about is how you were going to get rid of your vegetables at dinner without Mom noticing; where boys were stupid and annoying; where words like "cancer" didn't mean a thing. "Megan is coming." She whispered into my ear.

Megan-my sister. She was twenty years old now. She lived in Las Vegas; she hated the Midwest and moved out as soon as she possibly could. Megan had gotten into drugs and alcohol when she was sixteen-I was eleven. She hardcore partied and ignored her school work. To the surprise of no one, she dropped out of school at seventeen. My parents have all but shunned her from the family; Megan never visits. Why was she coming now? How could I possibly know; my parents tried to keep the tragic tale of my sister's life from me. They succeeded so far. "How is she?" I asked.

"She's...alright." My mother ran her fingers through her graying strawberry blonde hair, frazzled. "She left rehab again last week. Dad and her got into quite the tussle over the phone."

"Oh." I said, closing the topic. I hated hearing my mother talk about my sister. Her frown lines looked like they would always remain deeply etched into her skin. "When will she be here?"

"Soon. She's taking a cab over." She wrung her hands then bustled off to go fix her hair or check on the dinner. I was left alone in the living room. I decided to creep online.

I logged onto my computer and searched for "Taylor Wright". Instantly, a few pictures showed up. He obviously was not the kind of guy who would take hundreds of pictures of himself. But, every picture with him in it was stunning. Every snapshot of him caught unaware was lovely. I sighed longingly.

Who knows how long I sat there admiring him. The next thing I remembered was a voice from behind me asking, "Who is that?"

I screamed in embarrassment and surprise. I slammed the computer screen down and swiveled around. Behind me, Meg had her hands up in fear. "Sorry, dude!"

"Oh, hi." I said, more of an apology than an actual greeting.

"Hey." Megan responded. She was deathly thin. She brought with her a cloud of cigarette smoke and the stench of alcohol. It was enough to make me nearly gag.

Meg and I used to be so close. Then she "grew up" and everything changed. I missed the old Megan, not this hollow addict of a sister.

My mother swooped over and hugged her dutifully. More out of obligation than actual desire. There was a grand amount of tension in the room already. Meg was known for being an emotional and unpredictable person, and I was sure the drugs could only enhance that. My father was going to be home soon and then the games would really begin.

Mother swept Meg into the kitchen to help make dinner. She was making homemade pizza with garlic bread-my dad's favorite. No doubt that she was trying to put him in a good mood. He could get so angry sometimes...

Megan always set him off; something about her carelessness and bratty attitude irritated him. God, it was hard to bear sometimes even for me. Growing up with her was certainly an adventure! It is only worse now due to her newfound recklessness.

The time neared seven. Dad would be home any second. When I was younger, he'd always come home and let me parade him around the house while I babbled about my day, no matter how exhausted or stressed he was. When I was younger, he was so happy; I loved hearing his booming laugh across the house. He does not laugh much anymore.

"Vera!" Mother squawked from the kitchen.

"What?" I call back while marching there.

I see my mother holding a fairly large bottle of whiskey in her outstretched hand. I stared down at the floor-I couldn't meet her eyes. "You know what to do."

I reluctantly took it. My cheeks inflamed as I cradled the forbidden object in my hands. It was an unspoken family secret-my dad drank far too much. It was a combination of me being sick and Meg leaving that did it too him. Even if I was better, it didn't help any. He was dependant now. My mother used to say it was us girls that kept him together, kept us all together. None of us were put together correctly anymore-a broken family. A puzzle you have every piece to, but they just do not fit in the right way anymore, the corners are bent.

Megan left, only to go down her destructive path. I was nearly always sick for quite some time. Mother was distraught and beside herself. Dad, well, he was left behind. He did not know what happened to his once perfect family. Alcohol was his safe haven. He usually became angry and violent. I had seen him hit my mother. I had seen him go after my sister. He had never, to date, gone after me. I hadn't a clue why, but I suppose I didn't raise any emotions for him. Things can change though.

I took the bottle and stashed it under my bed, the usual place. My room was a place of despair, sickness, and secrets. Perhaps I should redecorate it; start anew. I was healthy as a horse and I should like a fresh start.

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maaaan, I needs some more votes and comments. Should I continue this? :/