Status: Updating while working on rewriting the earlier chapters (and deleting some stuff).
Infinite
Two
"Aubrey! Get your lazy ass down here!”
I groan and roll over, pressing the pillow over my ears to shut out the offending noise. A quick glance at the alarm clock – it’s seven thirty. We got back late last night – or early this morning, if you want – and Rick knows that, but he doesn’t care if I get sleep deprived.
“Aubrey!” he shouts again, and I know he’ll come up here if I don’t answer.
“Yeah?” I shout back, still reluctant to get out of bed. I can hear my siblings running around screaming downstairs. Rick always gets cranky when they’re running around, he thinks children should be silent and well-behaved.
“I said, get down here!”
I moan and put my bare feet on the floor, my head spinning from lack of sleep. I reach for my sweatpants and pull them over my legs, and after checking the mirror and making a face – my red-streaked dark hair is a mess and I'm red-eyed – I make my way downstairs. Rick is standing by the foot of the staircase, glaring at me as I get down.
“What?” I ask, walking past him into the kitchen.
”I’ve been telling you to get down here for ages!”
“I was sleeping,” I say as I pick up Jamie when she runs past me. She squeals and begs to be put down, but I promptly place her in her chair. “Have they eaten?”
Rick sighs as if saying “do I have to do everything around here?”
“No. Your mom left an hour ago and I have to leave now, you’re taking care of them today.”
“Okay.”
Five years of this has taught me not to argue about babysitting, or anything else for that matter. Babysitting is currently the only thing we manage not to argue about, though.
Two-year-old Elliott runs into the kitchen, red-faced from playing with Jamie the whole morning. When he spots his dad, he grins a baby-grin and says: “Da-ddy!” and waves his arms like he wants to be picked up. Rick just walks out the kitchen door without looking at the small human at his feet.
“Elliott, come here and have some breakfast,” I say, trying to ignore the burning feeling in my heart and eyes. Elliott doesn’t cry, but his heartbroken expression is even worse to look at.
As I place Elliott in his chair opposite of Jamie, I ask myself for the umpteenth time why mom and Rick decided to have children. I’m pretty sure Jamie was an accident, but what about Elliott? You would think they had figured out how to use contraceptives after getting pregnant once. But my mom has never been very bright, come to think of it – even if she has been a relatively good mother (she might have given me out-of-date food once or twice and left me home alone for a whole day when I was five years old, but all in all, I think I turned out okay), she has met a few guys along the way who weren’t very nice. Rick is the best one so far, believe it or not.
I get my siblings some cereal and wonder if Jamie is responsible enough to be left alone for ten minutes while I take a shower. Deciding against it, I run upstairs, run a brush through my hair, put on my most ripped pair of jeans and a Misfits t-shirt, as well as a black woolen cap to cover the shoulder-length frizzle that is my hair. After zipping up my black hoodie and putting on my chucks, I get downstairs again where Jamie and Elliott are still eating. More or less.
“Aurey lucky arms no,” Elliott states and holds up his plate for me to see. The Lucky Charms have been mashed with the milk and become a non-edible sticky substance. I sigh and take the bowl from him, place it in the sink and start peeling a banana for him instead. In the meantime, Jamie has finished her breakfast and is climbing down to the floor.
“Are we going out today Aubre-ey?” Jamie asks, pulling at my jeans leg as I give Elliott his banana.
“If you want to,” I say, sitting down and pouring some cereal (Special K ones – Lucky Charms are not for me) into my own bowl and adding milk. “Do you want to go to the playground?”
Elliott’s face lightens up at the mention of the playground, but Jamie wrinkles her nose.
“No, I wanna go shopping!” she exclaims, then smiles her sweetest smile. “Pleeaasee Aubrey?”
I sigh, but try to hide my smile. Jamie is not your ordinary five-year-old – she actually enjoys going shopping more than going to the playground, and likes to watch MTV’s Headbanger’s Ball rather than Disney Channel.
“Alright, but we won’t buy any cd's today, okay?”
“Clothes?”
“If I have enough money, then sure.”
“Yay!”
Jamie starts jumping around, and Elliott, not knowing what’s going on but excited because Jamie is, does the same. Ten minutes later, I have put on my eyeliner (won’t leave the house without it) and have helped Jamie and Elliott get their clothes on. After securing Elliott in his car seat, making sure Jamie has fastened her seatbelt and putting Elliott’s stroller in the trunk of the car, I put the car in reverse.
“The mall or Newark?” I ask Jamie, and her eyes widen in disbelief.
“We can go to Newark?” she says.
“Yeah, sure."
“Mom and Dad never goes to Newark,” she says. “They’re so boooring.”
Deciding not to answer that, I put the stereo on. Jamie cheers when one of her favorite songs come on – Nirvana’s Come As You Are – and starts to sing along.
I groan and roll over, pressing the pillow over my ears to shut out the offending noise. A quick glance at the alarm clock – it’s seven thirty. We got back late last night – or early this morning, if you want – and Rick knows that, but he doesn’t care if I get sleep deprived.
“Aubrey!” he shouts again, and I know he’ll come up here if I don’t answer.
“Yeah?” I shout back, still reluctant to get out of bed. I can hear my siblings running around screaming downstairs. Rick always gets cranky when they’re running around, he thinks children should be silent and well-behaved.
“I said, get down here!”
I moan and put my bare feet on the floor, my head spinning from lack of sleep. I reach for my sweatpants and pull them over my legs, and after checking the mirror and making a face – my red-streaked dark hair is a mess and I'm red-eyed – I make my way downstairs. Rick is standing by the foot of the staircase, glaring at me as I get down.
“What?” I ask, walking past him into the kitchen.
”I’ve been telling you to get down here for ages!”
“I was sleeping,” I say as I pick up Jamie when she runs past me. She squeals and begs to be put down, but I promptly place her in her chair. “Have they eaten?”
Rick sighs as if saying “do I have to do everything around here?”
“No. Your mom left an hour ago and I have to leave now, you’re taking care of them today.”
“Okay.”
Five years of this has taught me not to argue about babysitting, or anything else for that matter. Babysitting is currently the only thing we manage not to argue about, though.
Two-year-old Elliott runs into the kitchen, red-faced from playing with Jamie the whole morning. When he spots his dad, he grins a baby-grin and says: “Da-ddy!” and waves his arms like he wants to be picked up. Rick just walks out the kitchen door without looking at the small human at his feet.
“Elliott, come here and have some breakfast,” I say, trying to ignore the burning feeling in my heart and eyes. Elliott doesn’t cry, but his heartbroken expression is even worse to look at.
As I place Elliott in his chair opposite of Jamie, I ask myself for the umpteenth time why mom and Rick decided to have children. I’m pretty sure Jamie was an accident, but what about Elliott? You would think they had figured out how to use contraceptives after getting pregnant once. But my mom has never been very bright, come to think of it – even if she has been a relatively good mother (she might have given me out-of-date food once or twice and left me home alone for a whole day when I was five years old, but all in all, I think I turned out okay), she has met a few guys along the way who weren’t very nice. Rick is the best one so far, believe it or not.
I get my siblings some cereal and wonder if Jamie is responsible enough to be left alone for ten minutes while I take a shower. Deciding against it, I run upstairs, run a brush through my hair, put on my most ripped pair of jeans and a Misfits t-shirt, as well as a black woolen cap to cover the shoulder-length frizzle that is my hair. After zipping up my black hoodie and putting on my chucks, I get downstairs again where Jamie and Elliott are still eating. More or less.
“Aurey lucky arms no,” Elliott states and holds up his plate for me to see. The Lucky Charms have been mashed with the milk and become a non-edible sticky substance. I sigh and take the bowl from him, place it in the sink and start peeling a banana for him instead. In the meantime, Jamie has finished her breakfast and is climbing down to the floor.
“Are we going out today Aubre-ey?” Jamie asks, pulling at my jeans leg as I give Elliott his banana.
“If you want to,” I say, sitting down and pouring some cereal (Special K ones – Lucky Charms are not for me) into my own bowl and adding milk. “Do you want to go to the playground?”
Elliott’s face lightens up at the mention of the playground, but Jamie wrinkles her nose.
“No, I wanna go shopping!” she exclaims, then smiles her sweetest smile. “Pleeaasee Aubrey?”
I sigh, but try to hide my smile. Jamie is not your ordinary five-year-old – she actually enjoys going shopping more than going to the playground, and likes to watch MTV’s Headbanger’s Ball rather than Disney Channel.
“Alright, but we won’t buy any cd's today, okay?”
“Clothes?”
“If I have enough money, then sure.”
“Yay!”
Jamie starts jumping around, and Elliott, not knowing what’s going on but excited because Jamie is, does the same. Ten minutes later, I have put on my eyeliner (won’t leave the house without it) and have helped Jamie and Elliott get their clothes on. After securing Elliott in his car seat, making sure Jamie has fastened her seatbelt and putting Elliott’s stroller in the trunk of the car, I put the car in reverse.
“The mall or Newark?” I ask Jamie, and her eyes widen in disbelief.
“We can go to Newark?” she says.
“Yeah, sure."
“Mom and Dad never goes to Newark,” she says. “They’re so boooring.”
Deciding not to answer that, I put the stereo on. Jamie cheers when one of her favorite songs come on – Nirvana’s Come As You Are – and starts to sing along.