Mary's Bones

TEN

My mother was the worst when it came to remembering. And my spare key was useless. She insisted that I have a key, yet she wouldn't stop changing the locks.

"Mom! Dad!" I banged on the door for the third time.

It was obvious someone was home. Voices were seeping through the cracks of the window from the TV. My parents never left their TV on. And Nev Schulman's voice had a distinction like no other. The same went for the other voices playing from an episode of Catfish. My mother loved Catfish, so I knew she had to be home watching it on the DVR.

"Goodness grief," I muttered through clenched teeth. One last snarl snapped from in between my jaw before I circled around on my heel.

"Sweetheart? What are you doing?" As I reached the last step, a figure stood in front of the house with two brown paper bags in hand.

"Daddy! Thank goodness. Where is your wife? She won't answer the door. Why do you keep letting her change the locks?" I sighed dramatically.

Laughter fell from his mouth. "That's your mother. One second." I hummed to the tune of the wind while my father jiggled his key in the lock. A satisfying click rang between us as the door pushed open.

"Octavia!?" he yelled.

"Yes? Oh, Angie!" my mother threw her hands up happily, glancing between dad and me.

"Don't give me that grin. Geez, mother. What were you doing? I was standing out there for over ten minutes." I scoffed. She eyed my hands, watching the useless pair of keys dangle from my fingers. Their nickel silver structure clinked together gently.

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear the door. Next time, knock louder, okay?" Laughter bubbled out of her. I rolled my eyes. My annoyance was amusing to her, apparently.

"It's nice to see my girls are as lovely as always." My father chuckled.

We walked further into the house with her hot on my tail. The deeper my feet led me, the darker the house became, filled with more Halloween decorations than the outside. The inside of the house was almost completely unnoticeable. It felt like I had entered a maze. Though I knew my way around. The patterns were hooked into my brain, having grown up here until I was twenty before John swept me away.

My body lured itself into the kitchen as it always had when I was younger.

"How was your appointment yesterday?" my mother started.

"It was okay. She gave me some more prenatal pills and told John to make sure he's looking after me. It wasn't anything she doesn't do every other time we meet." I shrugged.

My mother chuckled. I could already tell why she was chuckling. She knew Dr. Welsh better than any of us. Dr. Welsh had delivered Cory and me when my mother was pregnant. I guess you could say she was our family obstetrician.

"Oh! And before I forget." I dug into the pocket of my sweater, fishing for the sonogram photo. "Here's Rosemary's latest sonogram."

"Oh, look at her! She is going to be just a precious little thing," my mother cried. My father peered over her shoulder to get a better look.

He then smiled and said, "Beautiful."

"Have you eaten today, Angie?" She pondered in the direction of the cabinets, grabbing two mugs from inside. Then, she placed them carefully on the counter beside the stove.

"I had yogurt before I got here." I shrugged again.

She paused and gave me a look. "Angie. . ."

"What? I had a banana on the side!"