Bittersweet

Chapter Five

August 25th, Sometime 9:00 a.m

The glistening water could lure him in. It was normally a murky tint of green, but sometimes if he caught it early enough, it looked more blue. Caleb had woken somewhere close to five and had been out since sunrise. First, he had taken his normal run route around the dog park and past the parkway, then he made himself a hefty breakfast after scrubbing the heat and sweat from his body once he got back home.

Now, Nia was supposed to be with him. He had made her a promise earlier in the year on her tenth birthday after seeing that their mother focused more on Casey than her.

Picnics once a week when we can. Even if it's after school.

He remembered vividly the day they'd latched pinkies under the tree at the side of the family house. Her dress had dried blueberry pie filling directly in the center, but he hadn't told her until right before he left for the day. Her hair was longer then when his was short.

It had been a long few months full of pressure and conflict, and he had pathetically broken their promise and apologized over and over again, but Nia wasn't oblivious. Out of her and Casey, Nia knew more than she let on. She gave him some slack, but it still broke her a little each week that passed without a visit from her brother.

The wind was fading into the cool breeze he loved in autumn and he leaned back on his elbows, pointing his head to the sky and closing his eyes. A deep breath in, air encapsulating his lungs, then back out.

He remembered being a teenager, skipping school nearly once a month to sit anywhere in silence. Teachers never complained, so his parents never found out.

His love for isolate nature came from Casey in her short-lived preteen phase of writing music. The comparison of layered clouds to choosing someone in love. He never knew how she at that age could write anything remotely meaningful about romance, but it was beautiful. He was sure he had a few verses somewhere in his apartment.

The wind blew through his shirt, and he carefully pried his eyes open where the sun wouldn't immediately blind him.

The clouds, he thought. Invisible in the night, so complicated in the day. Resemblant to emotions in a way.

Normally, there would be ducks by the stream, sitting around the edge of the water, but not today. Looking around him, he took in the scattered and barely there flowers. Mostly dandelions, but some tulips. Orange tulips.

He smiled. If there was someone out there for him, he would bring her here. To the water under the walking bridge deep in the trees of the always-packed park. Someone who liked the minimal feel of late summer breeze.

Sometime 2:00 p.m

The counter next to the sink was full of shrimp to devein and vegetables. Red peppers to roast. Onions and tomatoes to dice. Thyme to pick.

He hated cooking, but according to the bit of information he had on his biological parents, it ran on both sides of the family. Even if he purposely tried to ruin a pot, he would immediately backtrack and attempt to undo it, occasionally making it better.

Reed had once joked about it and called him "Ratatouille" back when they had a normal bond. Back when Reed was a good father to him.