My Heart's Choice (On Hold)

Chapter 43

I walk slowly into the kitchen, still not sure about what happened. The air around me still smells of Mason's perfume. Or is it just my imagination?

My stomach gives a weird twist, and I have no idea if it is because of the something to do with Mason, or simply because I am hungry. A loud growl escapes, erupting from my stomach.

Definitely hungry.

I pulled the refrigerator door open, and pull out some cold sandwiches that mom had left for me. Without thinking much of it, I dive in, without even bothering to transfer them into a proper plate.

I chug down a complete bottle of Mom's newly made lemonade, which I guess is for when dad arrives. But, hey, I'm hungry. And my stomach is growling.

Running my eyes over the shelves for anything else interesting, and finding nothing, I slam the refrigerator door shut. Gosh, my mom really knew how to hide food. Not that I always made them vanish. But she always thought that I badly wanted to.

"Kids," she would say, ages ago, when dad asked why she hid food.

Although she has only one kid, that is. And my dad being the math genius, a newly appointed university professor for nuclear physics, back then, pointed out the problem with using the plural.

But Mom being the lawyer she is defended herself saying that it made her more concious and alert about her kid.

Although in my opinion, it was one of her many feeble attempts to tell Dad that she wanted more kids, which of course, Dad never understood.

Right at this moment, I just hope that I had a sibling or two, who would have all my DNA and similar genes and all that. So maybe he or she could explain why I'm feeling like a mess right now.

I shake my head to myself, and rush up the staircase to my room, hoping to complete the rest of my homework. Fifteen minutes into my English Literature Essay, my phone vibrates inside my bag with a phone call.

I pull it out and check the caller ID. Mason.

My fingers shaking and my heart starting to pound like a galloping stallion, I swipe the screen to answer the call.

"Hey," I croak into my phone.

A moment of silence passes with nothing from the other end. When my mind begins to laugh at me that this is some kind of a joke, the line comes to life with a deep sigh.

I hear regret and longing on the other end. "Hey."

"I'm calling for Rover's reading session," Mason's voice says from the other side of the line.

I exhale a small smile at how ridiculous that sounds.

"Why are you laughing?" he sounds hurt.

"How am I to believe that I am reading to a dog?" I ask.

"Wait a second,"

A sound of a ruffle follows his words and then a quick click.

What is he doing?

When I am about to ask what is happening, my phone vibrates in my ear with a text message.

"Check the message," he says.

I flip my phone to my palm and open the text message from Mason. It is a picture of himself, in his bed, tucked under his blanket, like a kid. And beside him, wearing a night cap and tucked under the same blanket is a dog.

I hold the phone back to my ear, unable to hold my laugh in. They look so adorable and makes me want to play Mama to them, reading their bedtime stories.

"Why is he on your bed?" I ask, a smile tugging at my lips.

"He's my bedtime buddy," he says.

I hear a smile in his voice.

"Really? You sleep with a dog?" I ask, rather amused.

"No!" he answers hastily, booming into the phone, "I sleep perfectly alone. He's here for the reading thing I keep telling you about," he says in a fake-serious voice, which makes me laugh.

"So, you ready?" he asks.

I pick up a novel lying on my desk and jump onto my bed. Putting my phone on loud speaker, I clear my throat, "Ready."

"Great! Come on boy, Rover. Time for your little session," Mason says, and the line echoes with a loud bark.

I turn to a new chapter, and begin reading.

***

I ended the call, when I hear soft snoring from the other side. I called Mason's name a few times, but the snoring continued. I guessed it was the end of the Reading Session.

Gosh, how stupid does that sound?

I pocket my phone, smiling to myself and shaking my head slightly. I return to my desk, when I hear a door unlock.

Dad is home!

Without thinking twice, I rush out of the bedroom and barrel down the staircase, just when Dad appears at the door.

The bags which he is holding thump to the ground, as I leap into his arms like a puma. He gives a hearty laugh, hugging me tight, his chest drumming up and down.

"Daddy!" I say, overjoyed.

He pulls back to look at me, brushing a few strands of my hair behind my ear. His grin mirrors mine, extending from ear to ear.

"I missed you so much, Princess," he says planting a quick kiss on the tip of my nose.

I give a slight laugh at the tickle on my nose, "I missed you too."

His eyes crinkle with a warm smile, and I see a tiny image of myself inside the big dark brown orbs, which is an exact replica of my eyes.

I pull away, settling for a side hug, as he walks into the house. Both of us drop onto the couch, and I immediately start probing him for details about New York and his life there.

"Alright, father and daughter reunites. And I get to play the royal maid, pulling in His Majesty's bags," Mom complains, leaning against the door and glaring at the bags which Dad dropped.

Dad gives a nervous laugh earning a stern look from my mom. She lifts an imaginary ball gown, and steps over Dad's bags, her chin held high. She fakes an evil look as she walks into the kitchen.

Dad shrugs, "She's still the Queen," he says, looking dead serious.

I giggle at how much they look like kids. Dad bounces out of the couch, picking up his bag and coat, pulling them upstairs. I offer to help with some of them and he hands me a few heavy duffel bags, which I carry upstairs for him.

I skip downstairs to help Mom with a meal, and also to try to discover her secret stash of heaps of tasty food until Dad showers and freshens up.

We put together a tasty dish with scrambled eggs, bacon and some sandwiches, when Dad climbs down for dinner.

I sit down with them to taste an apple pudding from Mom's secret stash, which I sadly did not discover. Despite my previous meal, I stuff my mouth with delicious apple pudding, while chatting with Mom and Dad. It reminds me of a time when we lived together as a family, before Dad had to move to New York for his job. A time when my life had no problems. No Rhea. No Mason. No Kenneth. Nobody. Just only my family.

A time when I was actually happy.

Enveloped in our little family reunion, everything else leaves my mind for a few happy hours.

And I feel so un-messed up, after a long time.