The Good Hair Family Sitcom

S1 E12.2: A New Friend

Walker's POV

The kitchen is bathed in sunlight streaming in through the window. It gives it a surreal feeling as I enter in and see Jonah getting out a bowl from the cupboard. Sleeping was...interesting, if you can even call it that. It was more like a series of naps, all finishing with the same dream, variations of my conversation with Jonah last night.

Jonah groans as he touches his head, tired and achy.

"How's the hangover?" I ask.

"Why did you let me drink so much?" he says.

"I tried, but you kept saying you were cracking open a cold one with the boys."

"How many cold ones did I crack open?"

"Only three."

"My body really can't handle alcohol," he mumbles.

I chuckle, agreeing, "Yeah."

While he gets the toaster out and plugs it in, I listen to the tugging in my mind that throws the memory of yesterday back over my vision again and again until I finally need to ask about it.

"Hey, so do you remember what you said when we got home last night? About the picture in the living room?"

Jonah shakes his head. "No. Which picture?"

"The one with the stock photo family."

"Oh, yeah," he says with a laugh. "We have to put an actual picture in that."

"Yeah, but, um...you told me you wanted a family like that."

Jonah furrows his brows. "Straight?"

"No, um...you pointed to the kid."

Jonah lets out an uncomfortable laugh. "Oh. Weird."

"Ha ha, yeah. Um, I just wanted to make sure there wasn't, like, any truth to that, anything more you wanted to say."

Jonah shakes his head and puts on a smile. "No, of course not. I love our family. I love us together. Who could need more?"

I guess I was hoping he would say something else, but it's okay that he didn't. I love him, and I just want him to be happy, no matter what we do.

"Yeah, I agree," I mutter.

The silence is strong as we both carry forth with making our breakfasts next to each other yet on our own.

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Brayden's POV

Cars are flying by outside our house, but many of them back up and parallel park when they hear the shouting of Cara and me advertising our lemonade. After all, what good-hearted person wouldn't buy the beverage of an adorable seven year-old girl. After making a sale to one couple, a lone woman comes up with a friendly smile.

"Aren't you two cute!" she says in a chipper voice.

"I'm not cute!" Cara retorts. "I'm fierce."

I look back at her, saying, "No, you're cute. Cute is good for business."

"How much for the gourmet lemonade?" the lady wonders.

"One dollar for a cup," I reply.

Is it expensive? Yes. But are people buying it? Still yes. The lady reaches into her purse and pulls out a dollar bill. I take the cash, and Cara hands her the cup. With a wave, she walks away, continuing down the sidewalk, and as she goes, a familiar red car pulls into our driveway right beside our lemonade table. My mom exits the driver's seat and scans our set-up in confusion.