Four Seasons

Greek Gods

It has been an entire month since we moved into the new house and already we have a routine going. We would both wake up at 7 a.m. I would make breakfast for the two of us which consisted of bacon and eggs with a slice of toast and either coffee or orange juice. Then Karter would rush around the house getting dressed in a wife beater, either black or white, and baggy, navy blue mechanic overalls which he zipped up half way and let the top half hang down from his hips - cue my eyeroll here. He thought it would show off his muscles and get some attention from the girls that frequented the shop. Eventually he would shove his feet into his favourite pair of timberlands, shouting goodbye and I love you then out the door he would go to his brand new car, or his other baby - a Dodge Viper.

Today was no different, as I watched him shove his feet into his shoes and grab  his keys on his way to the front door. "BYE KALLIE, LOVE YOU!"

"Love you too, and stop shouting!" I replied, his constant rush to get out of the house getting on my nerves even more. It was like he couldn't wait to get away from his failure of a sister who couldn't even seem to snag a job, even if it was part time. I'd been searching for weeks for the perfect job, I didn't want to be stuck behind a desk all day, I needed freedom. Karter had offered to help saying he had connections that could easily get me a job, but I wanted to do it myself so I politely declined. 

Getting up and making my way into the living room, I plonked myself down onto the couch and flicked the tv on, propping my feet up against the coffee table. The weather news was on, and as if I couldn't already tell that today would be overcast, the grey clouds outside clarified it for me and the reporter re-confirmed it. "Great..." I muttered, my finger ready to change the channel when it paused in mid-click. 

"Well, later today we'll see who leaves the court room with custody of the young child, 3 year old Jack O'Connor. Will it be his parents, William, 52 and his wife, Lynne O'Connor, 46, or their eldest son, 23 year old Hayden O'Connor the Third. Further details will be released later today."

My eyes were as wide as saucers as I listened to the major headline. How could a son go against his parents for custody of his younger sibling? Had something been said or done to the child by the parents, that custody of the child was being fought over? So many questions flew through my mind, and eventually my head began to pound in the most uncomfortable way.

Getting up slowly to avoid making my head spin more than it already was, I shuffled to the downstairs bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Pulling out a packet of panadol, I turned and made my way back to the kitchen snagging a glass and filling it half way with water. Popping the pills into my mouth one at a time, I chugged the rest of the water after the last pill. 

"Ah..." I said, feeling a bit refreshed after the glass of water. Glancing down and realizing the kitchen was still out of order from breakfast earlier, I got to work on cleaning the dishes, the pounding in my head subsiding every now and then. 

Twenty minutes later, a spotless kitchen and coffee in hand, I made my way to the cordless phone with the newspaper under my arm. Grabbing the phone and sipping my coffee at the same time I made my way back into the living room - it's time to get back on my grind of finding a job. With the tv on as background noise, and the repetitive motion of looking through the circled ads in red and dialing the different numbers, I eventually fell asleep.

"Ass, ass, ass, ass, ass...stop! Now make that motherfucker hammer time."

Groaning and sitting up, I leaned forward growling low as I picked up my cell phone. Trust Karter to change my ringtone to some crude song. 

"What do you want?" I growled into the phone, knowing the only person who would call me, would be Karter. 

"Hello to you too sissy!"