How We Are Meant to Be

Sunday morning came and so did my sisters with fresh clothes and a warm car ride back to the apartment. They are awfully quiet this morning and for this, I am grateful. Sleeping next to Micah’s rock hard body and the railing on the bed was supremely uncomfortable; however, I will never say this to Micah.

Aires goes straight to the kitchen to make us all breakfast, delicious French toast, and later in the day Paris charges lunch to her Visa. She only went as far as the Chinese joint on the corner to grab us crab Rangoon and sweet and sour chicken. By suppertime, I have gained control of my kitchen and make pasta. My sisters are gone not long after. I’m happy because Paris was on my neck all day about what I should and should not let Micah do. I only got peace and quiet while I cooked and that is only because I forbid anyone to enter the kitchen while I was cooking.

“Thank the lord they are gone! Did they annoy you as much as they did me?” he nods. We are sitting on the couch just relaxing. “Do you need more pain medication?” I ask as his face twists in a weird way. He nods again and so I get up from the couch to get a couple of the white pills from the odd orange bottle on the kitchen counter. He opens his arms towards me as I gave him the pills. I crawl into his open arms and nestle carefully into his side.

“Thank you for being here. I don’t know what I would do without you, Syd. And not just today, but every day. I love having you here with me on a regular basis.” He slowly and quietly drawls out. I know he is in pain and so I just kiss his cheeks before finally relaxing into his side for a long night of R & R.

The two weeks pass with little to report on. Micah still has headaches that will keep him off the ice for at least a few more days. We do grow closer, though. I take time off to help out a little more around the house, make sure everything was working correctly. We ended up having a lot of conversations about many things, including the future. Marriage was brought up, but in the metaphorical sense and not anything literal, just a future goal, not necessarily with each other although I know it will only be Micah to meet me at the altar one day. We also conclude that I need to start opening up to outside clients for photography. It isn’t so much a money factor, but a professional advancement. I can never get a better job unless I do a little more freelance. You can only take so many pictures of the same thing. But I never imagined being this close to anyone, but now that we have spent almost an entire two weeks together, I don’t remember being any other way.

Mrs. Stevens has been bothering to visit us; each time she calls I try to persuade her not to worry. Each time she threatens to come and visit. Today, she just shows up. Micah is upset and annoyed that she felt the need to come down here. He somehow correlates her visit to the thought that Mrs. Stevens doesn’t think I can handle taking care of Micah while he is injured. I don’t take it this way, but it continues to bother Micah anyways.

“Mrs. Stevens, I have a meal planned for dinner. You do not need to cook,” I tell her impatiently that evening as she starts to raid my kitchen. It’s perfectly clean, organized, and mine, yet she continues to dig her way through everything. It takes every ounce of my being to not slam the cabinet doors on her fingers.

“Oh, dear, I can handle dinner. You could use a break since Micah is not helpful in the kitchen. I know that for a fact. Besides, you look exhausted.” As she says it, I begin to feel it more and more. But that doesn’t mean I want to give up my kitchen to this woman. Sure, she is like family to me after all the years I have known the Stevens’, but she is the most annoying person I’ve ever met.

“Mrs. Stevens, I don’t need a break from cooking. I love to cook.” I reassure her. She looks at me and it’s like she’s daring me to kick her out of my kitchen. “It’s my mother’s recipe and all the ingredients are about to expire. I would appreciate you letting me cook tonight.” She continues to give me that look. I place my hands on my hips and she mirrors me.

“Mom!” Micah shouts and immediately he regrets it, I see it in the way he scrunches his eyebrows together. “Let her cook, you cook every day for Dad and Mia. Take your own break, it won’t kill you,” I feel bad that the two of us grown women are having a kitchen brawl over who gets to cook dinner. If Micah hadn’t stood up for me, I would have probably just let her cook because she’s a pain in the ass when she doesn’t get her way.

For a woman of 50, she doesn’t look her age. She still has her natural blonde hair in the short wavy bob that some of the older actresses do, she wears the minimal amount of makeup to make her look a little younger, and dresses like she should be her own mother.

Micah stands just on the edge of the kitchen, staring at his mother. She sighs in defeat and tells me that I can cook if I want. Then she disappears into my room, the room she claimed for herself during her stay in the apartment.

“Thank you, Micah, but you didn’t have to do that. I could’ve handled her.” I tell him as I flitter around the kitchen. I’m busying my hand, but not my mind. Even still, I didn’t notice Micah sneaking up behind me until his arms encircle my waist, giving me a small fright.

“I had to, she has been here for less than ten hours and she is already driving me nuts. Besides, one of us is sentenced to the couch while she’s here and I think she expects it to be you considering I am the injured one,” he smiles his toothy smile that ties my stomach in knots.

“That’s too bad; I think I’ll share your bed with you. It is plenty big enough for two. Besides, she didn’t even ask before taking over my room. I know I am not her favorite Worth, but really? She doesn’t have to be rude to me,” I let out a big weight on my shoulders. Ever since Micah and I moved to Sewickley, she has had some bug up her butt about me and I have absolutely no clue as to why. And if Micah knows why, he isn’t sharing, not that I expect him to. She just obviously dislikes me and I am curious as to why.

“I was hoping you would say that,” he kisses my cheek and lets go of me. “I’ll leave you to dinner or else she’ll be back to either cook or eat, and demand it right now. It will be whatever one floats her boat for that particular moment and we both know it.” I smile at him and realize that as much as he loves his mother, he will never be as close to her as his three other siblings and I don’t know why that is either.