Across The Pond

It's been a really long time, and I'm about to go review but I wanted to get this off my chest first; rough day, lads/: Welks, any feedback of any kind, good or bad, is much much appreciated. I will return the favor!

“It’s for the summer, in Europe with my God Mother.” I held the phone close to my ear with my shoulder as I sprawled myself out above my fluffy comfiture. “Dad says it will be good bonding time…” I turned to my side to look at the framed picture of my mother on the wall. It seems like just yesterday she was hustling and bustling around the house.

“Good bonding time?!” Lydia hollered into my ear from the receiver. “Good bonding time is when you’re stuck at home with a relative, good bonding time is when you’re hanging out with me and Dan watching movies when we have nothing to do on Friday nights. Spending an entire summer in another country with a woman you’ve only met once is not good bonding time!” I chuckled at her obnoxious reasoning, toying with the ends of my wet hair. I looked above, outside the window at the moon. I could see the clouds in the sky, the bright stars twinkling. I often did that from time to time, stare at the sky.

“Lydia, she was my mom’s best friend.” I sat up, the hangnail on my left ring finger pulling in my attention. I heard her sigh and knew she wouldn’t say anything. “They went through grades second to twelfth together, dude. Apparently she never got married but was always here for me when I was a baby. I have a right to know who this woman is.” I reasoned with my best friend. Normally in these situations, I was the one freaking out. But when things had to do with my mom, I always found reasoning.

“Okay, but seriously. Three months? Why three?” I heard a bag of chips opening on the other end of the line, and then realized my own stomach growling. “I mean,” Lydia chomped down the salt and vinegar chips I knew she loved, “why can’t it be for the rest of the summer, then come back? I won’t see you until…October!” I heard her sip whatever beverage she was in to.

“September.” I corrected her as I trampled down the stairs of our large, empty home. It was just my dad and I, and that damn, sketchy cat I hated in this place. “I’ll be back for my nineteenth birthday.” I stated as I opened one of the pantries in our large kitchen. My mom loved to cook, which meant that every house they bought had to be equipped with a big enough kitchen for all her “creative” messes.

“I really, really don’t like this, Celeste.” Lydia continued as if her opinion mattered. I smiled sweetly to myself as I grabbed out some bread and the toaster.

“I’m kind of into it.” I tossed the bread inside the four-slotted toaster and then hoped on the island as I waited. Ski, our platinum Burmese cat, decided this would be the perfect time to creep up on me. “I’ve never been out of the east coast before, nevermind the country.” I commented, flicking Ski away.

“Well, I’m not. I think it’s stupid. Let me talk to Pops, I can get him to let you come stay with me.” Lydia hassled me. I laughed as I pulled out my bagel and laid some smoked salmon and cream cheese out on both sides before squishing them together. I carried myself to the connecting family nook where my mother decided to turn our sunroom into an all glass wall room with a TV and couch, perfect for out neighbors to see us.

Ski weaseled his way back onto my lap, the attention whore trying to grab my salmon. I shoved him away from me but he kept coming back. I started to space out as Lydia rambled, looking out at the dark night from the other side of the glass window. I heard the front door open and close, causing Ski to scurry off down the two steps of our living room.

“Celeste, sweetie?” My father’s voice called out. He always had a booming voice that echoed through out the two-story foyer of our brick home. This house fitted him as much as it had fitted my mother, her for the kitchen and him for the big open rooms to bellow in.

“I’m in here, Dad.” I interrupted Lydia as I responded to him.

“Is that ol’ Pops? Give him the phone! Do it now!” She hissed as I continued to look down the hallway that connected our kitchen and foyer. He appeared, tall and lanky as always in his work clothes.

“Hey,” He greeted casually as he placed his suitcase and clipboard on the island. He made his way over and kissed the top of my head, Lydia still requesting to talk to him from my left ear. “That Lyd?” He asked, calling her by her nickname.

“Yeah,” I responded, picking at the half-eaten salmon and cream cheese sandwich I had made moments before.

“Tell her I said hello.” He walked back to the kitchen as he loosened his tie. He opened the steal door fridge and bent down, roaming the shelves for a snack.

“She wants to talk to you.” I yelled over, staring at him in anticipation.

“You tell her the news?” He straightened up and peered over his shoulder at me. That’s the look I always enjoyed. That waiting but knowing look. It was in all of the candid photos of my dad, it was always the look when I knew he was really paying attention. His small, brown eyes wide. His dark eyebrows heavy and his mouth parted just a little, squaring out evenly with his chin. My mom always made me remember that look. I have no idea why she wanted me to, but I did.

“Maybe.” I smiled.

“I’m not ready for the protests yet, maybe tomorrow.” He yelled loud enough for Lydia to hear. She started into fits of rage and demanding that he talk to her but I ignored it all. I suddenly became very tired and realized I just wanted to sleep.

“Hey, Lydia? I’ll call you tomorrow or something. I’m really tired.” I excused myself from our “conversation” and clicked off the line. I brought my plate over to the sink where I rinsed it and placed it in the dishwasher. My dad was cutting up some left over ham beside me.

“Are you really going to bed?” He asked, slicing thick layers of ham.

“Yup. Goodnight.” I smiled and walked out of the kitchen. I entered through the foyer and up the stairs where I stopped and looked at the picture of my mom on the wall. I sighed, realizing how fast this past year had gone by. I walked into my room and climbed into my sheets, passing out instantly for the first time in twelve months.