The Good Hair Family Sitcom

S1 E2.2: Uses of Ink

Andi's POV

We cleaned it. We got rid of the mark. So why is it back?

I stop in the hallway, dumbfounded as I stare at the black spot.

"Amber," I say as she walks by, "did we not just clean this?"

She halts beside me, completely thrown off by the mark's reappearance. "How did it come back?"

"I have no idea."

"Maybe it's one of those things that goes away when you put water on it but come back when it dries?"

I narrow my eyes at her, baffled. "What kind of things are those?"

She just releases a sigh and says, "I'll get the cleaner again."

A few minutes later, I'm scrubbing at the spot with a cloth while she sprays it. It takes a fair amount of elbow grease, which is coming fully from me. Amber is definitely not the one of us who worries about cleaning around our home. She's more of a clean-it-once-its-in-the-way kind of person, hence why she doesn't dust the picture frames on the shelf until the dust starts to block the pictures.

She squirts the cleaning liquid on the spot again, and while I continue wiping, she begins to giggle. I stop to look back at her for an explanation, which she gives right away.

"Remember when we were in high school, and we spilt all that paint on the art room floor?" she asks.

I smile at the memory. I'd never gotten in that much trouble and not regretted it one bit before that day.

"Yeah," I say as I laugh, "and then we had to try to clean it up before anyone realized we were in that room unsupervised. But seriously, who leaves full cans of paint without lids just sitting on the counters?"

"The drama department apparently," Amber recalls. "Though we probably should've checked our surroundings before deciding that that was the best place to make out."

Grinning, I glance down each end of the hallway, seeing nothing that could be troublesome, before settling my eyes on Amber, and she knows exactly what I'm thinking. She drops the cleaning spray, and I let the cloth fall as she takes me in by the waist, and I wrap my arms over her shoulders. Her kiss is golden like her hair, golden like daylight, streaming through me in rays.

After, we take another moment to just rest our foreheads together, letting the colours of the world blur back to normal.

"I love you, Andi Mack," she whispers.

I grin and lift my chin up to kiss her again.

All of a sudden, our daughter's voice breaks us up as the girl says, "Is this what you two actually do whenever you say you're cleaning?"

She lets out a laugh as she carries on down the hall, and Amber bends down to pick up the cleaner again. She places the cloth in my hand with a smile.

"You're better at scrubbing," she tells me.

"Cyrus told me that that statement could be considered using compliments to manipulate," I tease.

"I'm not trying to manipulate you. It's the truth. You should do the scrubbing, because you're better at it. Just like I'm better at supervising."

"Okay," I respond. "Well, you're also better at cleaning the toilets—"

"I should've expected that."

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Cyrus's POV