One Small Step | ✔

Memories

I'm home early today because of my spare. 
Ambrose is with Dara at her studio,
helping out. Tate has applied and gotten
a gap year and is at the library studying.

Dad and Aunt Margaret
are both at work
while Jacob is out with his new
girlfriend.

Tonight is Jacob's last night here
before he returns to university.
One more year of it and he's back
for good. 

I'm determined to make a family night.
Only family. My new friend Larissa had asked
me to come over and Roman had asked too,
but it's my turn to pick up the pieces.

I take out Aunt Margaret's recipe book and
follow it exactly. I pick two family recipes:
a lasagna
and a peach cobbler.

It takes me hours, but when everyone
is back home, it's ready.
The table is laid out, the
seats set.

Ambrose blinks.
"Did you do all this?"
he manages to get out.
I nod.

Tate is the first to take a seat.
He's also the first to reach for the pie.
Aunt Margaret slaps his hands away.
"That's dessert."

"But, Aunt Margaret!" he whines and
Jacob laughs. "You're not five anymore, Tate."
In reply,
Tate sticks out his tongue.

Everyone sits down and my father,
after a few forkfuls of food, says,
a ghost of a smile on his lips,
"It tastes exactly like how Cassidy made it."

It's awkwardly silent before Dara breaks
in and says, "I wish I could've had met her."
"She would have loved you," reassures
Ambrose and then talk begins.

I learn more about my mother
than I have in the past seventeen years.
From my aunt, brothers,
and my father.

We talk about Carina too,
establishing that she was probably
the best older sister there ever
was.

The pies are completely finished,
the lasagna non-existent anymore.
And yet, the conversation is still
going incredibly strong.

It lasts until ten,
even after Aunt Margaret silently
gets up to wash all the dishes.
I join her after she fails to come back quickly.

She quickly brushes away tears in her 
brown eyes. She pushes her greying
hair back
and gives me a forced smile.

"Aunt Margaret,
how are you doing?
I ask softly. 
She turns the tap off.

"I'm fine, Tallulah.
I... remembering
your mother is something I hardly do.
It's a bit overwhelming."

I begin to dry the dishes as
she hands them to me.
"What about her annoyed you the
most?"

To my surprise, she laughs.
"Oh, Cassidy did many things
that annoyed me and your grandparents!
It wasn't until she hit eighteen did she mature."

"What was her most annoying moment?"
I prompt her and she thinks for a moment.
"How she would barge into my room
whenever she felt like it and wreck havoc."

"How often did she do that?"
I say, curious about this other side of my mother.
"Every single day,"
my aunt replies seriously.

"There wasn't a day I could just
do my work without having to clean
my room because Cassi refused
to put everything back where she found it."

I winced. When I was five, I was bored
a lot because Adam was at soccer.
I would go into Carina's room and look
for nail polish or books.

I didn't exactly put
anything back where I found it.
I have something in common
with Cassidy after all.

The dishes are soon all put away
and Aunt Margaret hugs me.
"Thank you, Lulu, I needed
that." I find myself hugging her back.

"So what did you least like of Carina?"
she asks abruptly and I have to give
it to her. 
I mentally pick through my memories.

I've thought of Carina for so long as
perfect
that it takes a while for me to
find something.

"Carina was not able to bake.
At all. She'd set off the fire alarm
constantly trying to make my cupcakes."
I say, remembering the sound.

Aunt Margaret chuckles.
"I expected something a little more serious."

"It's a major problem." I explain.
"September is first impression month.
My birthday is in September. 
Cupcakes equal friends."

"I never made much of an
effort though," I say,
looking down at my bare feet,
and the chipped pink polished toenails.

Aunt Margaret pats my back comfortingly,
"That's changed now. You have
Roman, Soren, Larissa,
and don't forget your family."

Forget. How could I?
Memories
are 
precious.

Memories
are what we
are made of,
what we live off of.

They can be happy,
sad,
painful,
but whatever they are,

Memories are priceless.