Morning fled into the room and Jamie rose with the sun. She dragged herself downstairs following the scent of pancakes. As she plopped herself down at the kitchen bar, her mother sat the pancakes, all ready buttered with syrup running down the stack, in front of her.
“You didn’t have to make breakfast for me, mom. I could have managed a bowl of cereal or oatmeal.”
“I insist.” Edna smiled, clearly missing someone to take care of, other than herself.
Jamie picked up her plate and moved into the living room where she flipped the television to MTV. Jamie watched as beautiful men and women danced and sang about love.
“She looks so good in this video. Don’t you think so?” Jamie asked, commenting on the new Beyoncé video, “If only I could be built like that.”
Edna sighed and turned the television off.
“Why did you turn it off? I like that song.” Jamie protested.
“But you’re finished with your breakfast.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t finished watching that.”
“Besides I have a job I want you to do for me while you’re here this summer.”
“Like what?” Jamie asked, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
“I need you to clean the hall closet out. Everything in it is yours and I’d like you to sort through it. Keep what you want and trash what you don’t. Alright?” Edna took Jamie’s dish and carried it to the kitchen.
Jamie eyed the remote considering turning it on again, but instead she picked herself up and went to the closet. Inside were stacks of brown boxes with labels on them. In the center was just enough room for her to sit and tear through each one. So she grabbed her ipod and sat down.
She decided to go through them by years, since they were labeled that way. So she grabbed the first one which read “Baby stuff” and opened it up. Inside she found mostly tiny jumpers and dresses, but there was the occasional binky and bottle. Only one thing was kept from this box, and that was her baby book. It contained the only tangible records of her first steps, words, birthdays, et cetera. Feeling curious, she looked inside.
“Hm…daddy was my first word. Wonder how that made mom feel?” Jamie muttered to herself.
Next came the box labeled “Toddler stuff.” This box was just as easy for the same reasons. Most of it was clothes and small dolls. Then came the school boxes. “Kindergarten” contained mostly papers and crafts. Jamie payed little attention to most of these papers, but a few caught her eye. One, in particular, was the “Little Indian” book. It was a five page illustrated book without any words. The task had been to create short sentences to fit the pictures. Jamie giggled at how terrible her handwriting and spelling was. She noticed now that her creativity had been nonexistent, with sentences like “The Indian washed the corn,” “The Indians danced,” and “The boy and dog played.” So boring, she thought. Flipping through her other papers, she realized how drastic the changes were from elementary to high school.
Throwing most of these papers away, she moved onto the “first grade” box, which showed little contrast from the former box, execpt that the math now included subtraction. She barely looked at one set of papers before moving on to the next.
Jamie glanced down at the time on her Ipod, 1:30. She was bored now and hungry, but her legs were too asleep for her to get up. So she leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes.
“Looks cramped in there.”
Jamie sat up, startled. “Oh. Hey there, Forrest.” She looked around her large pile of junk, “She wanted me to clean out the closet so…here I am.”
Forrest scanned the closet, “looks like a big job.”
“Yep, but I did clean out four boxes already.”
“Nice progress.” Forrest said, leaning against the doorway.
“Yeah, but now I am starving. You want a sandwich?”
“Sure. I’m starting to feel hungry.”
“Good, cause even if you weren’t I would have made you eat anyway. I’m dying to socialize.” Jamie tried to get up out of the mess, but couldn’t. “A little help, please.”
Forrest lent her a hand and pulled her up.
“Thanks.” Jamie said, walking to the kitchen. She pulled open the fridge and examined its contents. She picked out several things and set them on the counter. “Swiss or American cheese?”
“Um…American.”
“Alright, pick your fixings.” Jamie said and they began to throw together their sandwiches.
“So where do you go to college?” Jamie asked, taking the first bite of her ham sandwich.
“I chose to attend the local university so I didn’t have to stay on campus.”
“Before I would have asked you why you wanted to miss out on that experience, but now I wish I had done the same thing.”
“Bad roommate, I take it.”
“Yep. So what are studying?”
“I’m majoring in Journalism. And you?”
“English with the focus on Literature. I really enjoy it, too.”
“That’s good.” He said, finishing his sandwich.
“So how did you start working for my mom?” Jamie asked, grabbing a soda from the fridge.
“Well, one day I just offered to help her carry in her groceries and it kind of worked its way from there. I started mowing for her and then she asked if I was good at gardening…”
"It's a good thing she had you, huh?" Jamie giggled.
"I wouldn't say that..."
"No, really...she was lucky to have you," Jamie smiled.
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