All Natural

Breaking and entering

I knock on the door. One second, then two pass. "Gramps," I call out, trying to peer into my house through a small chip in the door Dad had never gotten around to fixing. "Gramps," I whine, pulling at the round handle of the door and pressing my body against it, hoping that somehow, magically, my too little body weight and lack of strength would open the door. And of course, nothing, great. I whined again, closing my eyes and leaning against the doorframe.

"Coming, coming!" a voice called, and I straighened up, looking at the door boredly to say, Hey, I've been waiting, where the fuck have you been?, because if I said that out loud, I'd be a pile of dog chow. The door opened, and my flustered mother appeared, her hair up in a messy bun and her apron stained- she had been cooking. 

I walk in, hugging my mom and inhaling the warm, delicious smell wafting from the kitchen. "Pumpkin pie?" I question, drooling at the thoughts of the homemade pastry. 

"Carrot cake," my mom corrects as she speed walks past me into the kitchen, me trailing behind. I notice the chaotic mess; pots and pans scattered about, most of them dirty with ingredients, several plates and silverware sets on the counter- more than usual, and I frown. 

"Are we having guests?" I ask, and mom nods. I walk into the dining room adjacent to the kitchen, noticing the white tablecloth- it was someone of importance, my mom hated washing this tablecloth due to it's fragile condition and value. The real question remained- who was it? We hardly had visitors since my dad passed away, my mom was too busy to make real friends and my grandparents only had people over for bridge once every two months, maybe.

Mother brushed past me, setting napkins and centertable accessories at the speed of light. "Who?" I ask, and before getting scolded, I quickly added, "And do you need help?" I could tell my mom was stressed, only adding to my own worries about the guests and their relation to us.

"Some friends of your father's," mom said, patting my cheek lightly as she walked back into the kitchen. "And if you really want to help, I suggest going and putting on some nice clothes." 

I whine, looking down and pulling out my tee shirt, looking at her with puppy dog eyes. Surely she wouldn't make me change now. "Jace, no," she says, pointing at the colossal titan on my chest. "Nothing from your anime collection. Wear that nice denim shirt your grandmom got you for christmas." I groan, going up the stairs, purposefully dragging my feet and slamming them back down on the carpetted wood to show that I was upset.

"Being a sore loser about it isn't going to change anything!" Mom calls from the kitchen, and I groan again, louder, continuing my charade of upsetness as I go get changed.

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 "Jace, the guests are here!" Gramp's rickety voice calls, and I sigh, looking at myself quickly in the mirror before going down the stairs, putting my hands in my pockets. I could overhear my grandmother welcoming them, and I stop at the foot of the stairs. 

"And here's our Jace," my Grandfather says proudly, putting a wrinkled hand on my shoulder and causing me to jolt. The two men that had entered my home turn to look at me, and I swallow down the spit gathering at the back of my throat. Their gazes were calculating and watchful, where they agents of some sort? They had been my father's 'friends'...

I manage a shaky smile, walking out of Gramp's grip and extending a hand towards the first man- perks of going to private school included ettiquette classes. "I'm Jace Clarence," I introduce, ignoring the crack after I said 'Cl'.

"Agent D. Addams," he says, and I nod. So they were agents. I extend my hand towards the other man, who gives me a high five instead, causing Agent Addams to sigh. I frown, clearing my throat, ready to say my introduction.