Status: Not started
Snow
Frost
December, 31
I stood on my tip-toes reaching high over my head and pawing around on my top closet shelf, til my fingers brushed the tooled leather cover.
My mouth quirked into a slight smile as I pulled it down. Bringing it close to my face and blowing off the dust. Dropping it onto my bed and flopping down beside it, opening it and flipping to a page at random.
My fingers brushed over the carefully attached lace, and I amused myself for a moment imagining my mothers hands doing the same.
I recognized the pictures
The bowed oak's branches were so low to the ground that I could walk on them, two as I was. My daddy's big hands around my smaller ones holding me steady.
When I was older I asked him about it he told me that they had been bent down in a storm, pushed almost flat to the ground. But instead of dieing the grew back out and up curling around, and making a wonderful playground.
That had been over fourteen years ago, when we visited my paternal grandparent in North Carolina.
I ran one nubby nailed thumb over a clumsily taken picture of mom and dad. I'd insisted over and over, "Let me do it! Let me do it!"
I felt my eyes grow moist, and bit my lip to distract myself. I shut the scrapbook quietly and gently settled it into the largest suitcase.
All I could pack was the most important things and this thing, though big and bulky definitely won a spot. So did the small collection of mystery novels.
They were supposed to be a Christmas present from my mom and dad, they had been in their Toyota's trunk when they crashed.
GAH! I had to stop thinking like that, it had been two months since they died, I couldn't wallow in self pity forever.
I stood up and spun around in a circle. My aunts guest room hadn't even gotten the chance to get messy. After thirty minutes it was already half empty. In suitcases or boxes ready to ship.
"Leah dinner's ready," Sophia called from the the kitchen, Oh so that's what the burning smell was.
"Be there in a minute," I called, shutting the suitcase with a clang. Sophia was in the kitchen stirring a skillet of something. I had a hard time thinking of her as aunt Sofia, since she had only been eleven when I was born
"Don't worry I didn't burn it, just split some sauce on the burner." "Hamburger helper?" I asked snatching away the wood spoon.
She sighed harassed pushing her deep red hair out of her face, "It's Mexican flavored I think. I feel like an idiot I'm supposed to be the adult and I have you cooking dinner.
"Well some of us are good at some things and some are good at others, I'm good at cooking and you are good at being forceful."
Sophia groaned "Okay stop Teisily, I'm not going to argue with you about the Russia thing anymore." Oh full first name I'm scared, "I didn't say anything about Russia did I?" I said innocently.
"Because your uncle has already gotten a job over there and went ahead," Howard and you have only been married a year, I thought coldly, he's not uncle yet.
"I know I know," I muttered, scooping up a spoonful of the Mexican rice and beef, "food."
She rolled her eyes grabbing a plat off the dish rack, "Okay hot shot."
-------------------------------------
An hour and a half later the door bell rang, I eased my self off the couch setting down homework I'd never turn in.
"Who is it?" I said tiredly starring at the old ivory paint. "Boris Pekliokoff, I'm here for your birsh nursh, and sausage!" I laughed silently and opened the door, a rush of chilly air blowing in my face. Victoria grinned at me manically then burst into laughter golden hair falling forward over her face. "That has got to be one of the worst accents I have ever heard." She only laughed harder.
When she straightened up I wasn't sure if her face was so red from laughing or cold. "Are you gonna let us in or are you going to let us freeze to death?" a second voice griped Loren's skinny form peeked from behind a frosted shrub, big brown eyes blinking owlishly, and clutching two backpacks
I must have looked concerned because Vicky added, "don't worry your aunt's the one who invited us, you know one last girl's night in before the big move." I smiled and invited them in.
By midnight Loren was fast asleep only woken by mine and Vicky's loud cheering at midnight, she gave a vague, "Whoo hoo," and passed out again. We burst into laughter.
At three am that morning when we finally went to sleep, all of us cramped together on my twin bed.
I stared up wondering if I'd ever feel like this again.
I stood on my tip-toes reaching high over my head and pawing around on my top closet shelf, til my fingers brushed the tooled leather cover.
My mouth quirked into a slight smile as I pulled it down. Bringing it close to my face and blowing off the dust. Dropping it onto my bed and flopping down beside it, opening it and flipping to a page at random.
My fingers brushed over the carefully attached lace, and I amused myself for a moment imagining my mothers hands doing the same.
I recognized the pictures
The bowed oak's branches were so low to the ground that I could walk on them, two as I was. My daddy's big hands around my smaller ones holding me steady.
When I was older I asked him about it he told me that they had been bent down in a storm, pushed almost flat to the ground. But instead of dieing the grew back out and up curling around, and making a wonderful playground.
That had been over fourteen years ago, when we visited my paternal grandparent in North Carolina.
I ran one nubby nailed thumb over a clumsily taken picture of mom and dad. I'd insisted over and over, "Let me do it! Let me do it!"
I felt my eyes grow moist, and bit my lip to distract myself. I shut the scrapbook quietly and gently settled it into the largest suitcase.
All I could pack was the most important things and this thing, though big and bulky definitely won a spot. So did the small collection of mystery novels.
They were supposed to be a Christmas present from my mom and dad, they had been in their Toyota's trunk when they crashed.
GAH! I had to stop thinking like that, it had been two months since they died, I couldn't wallow in self pity forever.
I stood up and spun around in a circle. My aunts guest room hadn't even gotten the chance to get messy. After thirty minutes it was already half empty. In suitcases or boxes ready to ship.
"Leah dinner's ready," Sophia called from the the kitchen, Oh so that's what the burning smell was.
"Be there in a minute," I called, shutting the suitcase with a clang. Sophia was in the kitchen stirring a skillet of something. I had a hard time thinking of her as aunt Sofia, since she had only been eleven when I was born
"Don't worry I didn't burn it, just split some sauce on the burner." "Hamburger helper?" I asked snatching away the wood spoon.
She sighed harassed pushing her deep red hair out of her face, "It's Mexican flavored I think. I feel like an idiot I'm supposed to be the adult and I have you cooking dinner.
"Well some of us are good at some things and some are good at others, I'm good at cooking and you are good at being forceful."
Sophia groaned "Okay stop Teisily, I'm not going to argue with you about the Russia thing anymore." Oh full first name I'm scared, "I didn't say anything about Russia did I?" I said innocently.
"Because your uncle has already gotten a job over there and went ahead," Howard and you have only been married a year, I thought coldly, he's not uncle yet.
"I know I know," I muttered, scooping up a spoonful of the Mexican rice and beef, "food."
She rolled her eyes grabbing a plat off the dish rack, "Okay hot shot."
-------------------------------------
An hour and a half later the door bell rang, I eased my self off the couch setting down homework I'd never turn in.
"Who is it?" I said tiredly starring at the old ivory paint. "Boris Pekliokoff, I'm here for your birsh nursh, and sausage!" I laughed silently and opened the door, a rush of chilly air blowing in my face. Victoria grinned at me manically then burst into laughter golden hair falling forward over her face. "That has got to be one of the worst accents I have ever heard." She only laughed harder.
When she straightened up I wasn't sure if her face was so red from laughing or cold. "Are you gonna let us in or are you going to let us freeze to death?" a second voice griped Loren's skinny form peeked from behind a frosted shrub, big brown eyes blinking owlishly, and clutching two backpacks
I must have looked concerned because Vicky added, "don't worry your aunt's the one who invited us, you know one last girl's night in before the big move." I smiled and invited them in.
By midnight Loren was fast asleep only woken by mine and Vicky's loud cheering at midnight, she gave a vague, "Whoo hoo," and passed out again. We burst into laughter.
At three am that morning when we finally went to sleep, all of us cramped together on my twin bed.
I stared up wondering if I'd ever feel like this again.
♠ ♠ ♠
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