Xander

Start Over (18)

I hesitated at the front door. My father- a man who was gone throughout six months, coming and going as he pleased- was inside the house I was about to enter. My home, if I could even call it that anymore. He's probably planning his next trip- this time it'll last for more than three months.
I inhaled shakily, and slowly let my eyes close. Everything is going to be okay. He'll probably ignore you like all of the other times. Just relax, walk in, and try and make it to your room without a confrontation.

Without anymore hesitation, I opened my eyes and unlocked the front door. I opened the door slowly, as if I expected a stranger to jump out at me. I am technically living with two strangers now- people who I don't even know anymore, and don't even know me.

I stepped in and glanced around, feeling at ease due to the unexpected silence throughout the house. I could hear the wall clock hanging in the hall ticking loudly, a stark contrast to the eerie silence surrounding the house.

I adjusted my bag on my shoulder and decided to just head for the stairs. There's no point in investigating. I almost sighed with relief when I was just a few feet away from the staircase. Looks like I won't be running into any of them.

Just as my foot made contact with the bottom step, I heard the clink of a glass on the dining room table and the clearing of a throat. A very masculine sound. A sound that was acknowledging me, almost in an annoyed manner. A sound that told me to turn around and enter the kitchen. So I did.

What I saw completely shocked me. My mother had laid out an actual, proper dinner set with a ravishing smell emanating from the main course. My mouth literally watered at the smell, and the sight, that I hadn't experienced in the longest time.

At that moment, I realized that both my mother and my father were looking at me. I stared boldly into my father's eyes, and a sense of loss enveloped my heart, leaving me at a loss of what I should do. I swallowed as I felt a familiar sting behind my eyes, but I held it back. Why become vulnerable now, Abby? Just because you caught sight of your father? Or the fact that you haven't seen your mother make dinner in months? Or the fact that you haven't seen your family like this- together- in the longest?

I blinked, banishing all of the remorse, and painful thoughts from my mind. I lifted my head higher in an attempt to look more stronger, and waited patiently for what was next. My eyes found my father's once again, but this time I felt my own narrow, as if to challenge him.

He had aged quite a lot since the last time I saw him, which had to be about two months ago. His hair was slightly longer, but he had it slicked back with gel. He had scruff along his jawline that had obviously been there for a few days. There were dark bags under his eyes, and he looked exhausted. The one thing that stood out about him was the strong look in his eyes. That and the clean and ironed clothes he was wearing.

He was firmly holding a coffee mug, and I didn't realize my mother had spoken until I heard my father's stong and firm voice fill my ears. "Abigail."

I blinked, a little startled by his sudden booming voice. But I nonetheless turned to my mother. "You said something?"

My mother cleared her throat, and without looking at me, softly spoke, "Please sit down with us to eat dinner."

I weighed my options. I can just turn around and walk upstairs. But that's a bitchy move- even I know that. And this is the most acknowledgement I've gotten out of the both of them. The only other option is to sit down and eat, and see what their rare behavior means.

I dropped my bag in the kitchen archway and slowly made my way over to the table. I sat two seats down from the head of the table, where my father sat, and my mother sat on the other side of the table next to him. I watched as my mother placed a little bit of everything on my plate, and all of the smells hit me as she handed it to me.