Saturday I woke up to the smell of cookies at noon. My mom only ever bakes when she’s around my aunts, so I know that they’re already here. I put my hair up into a messy bun, brush my teeth, and head down stairs.
“And you used to call me lazy,” Aunt Sam remarks as she takes in the fact that I’m still in my pajamas at noon. My mom snorts and sticks another tray in the oven. The kitchen is super warm because the oven’s been on for a while. I bet they got here sometime around nine.
“Where’s dad?” I ask, ignoring her comment. There are two trays of cookies already, pre-cut sugar cookies with designs that my mom bought because she’s way too lazy to bake from scratch. She sets the timer before turning back to me.
“He went into work today to pull in some extra hours. He didn’t want to be around all these girls,” She joked. I laughed with my aunts and her as I walked to the fridge. I grabbed a glass from the cupboard, filled it with milk, and leaned against the counter drinking it.
My mom’s hair was down, long and curly. She had a head band in that matched her sweater. She’s owned the jeans she’s wearing since she was a senior in high school. As I look at how thin she is I feel confused. All of my friend’s moms have these hips after child birth that just never went away. My mom doesn’t.
I reach for a cookie but Aunt Danielle smacks my hand away.
“That’s my tray!” She snaps. She’s honestly a brat. I roll my eyes and look in time to see her get the same reaction from her sister and my mom.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” my mom says, momentarily annoyed.
“Ro, yes it is,” Aunt Danni whines. I get up with my glass of milk and head into the living room to watch some TV. I hate seeing them argue: my mom takes an authoritative tone that scares the shit out of me. Grabbing the remote, I flip through the shows I had recorded from last night until I find Grimm.
My mom got me into this show because she loves all the crime shows. Right now, she’s working as a CSI, but she loves profiling and helps the detectives assigned to her cases as much as possible. She’s showed me what it’s like to profile someone, and I think it’s secretly awesome.
Around one, there’s angry knocking on my door. I shout to my mom that I’ll get it and when I open the door, I’m face to face with Devon’s fist.
“You haven’t picked up your phone all morning! I must have called you forty-five times!” She shouts, shoving her way past me into the house. She storms into the kitchen, grabs a cookie off the sheet, and takes a furious bite before anyone can stop her.
My mom, Aunt Sam, and I giggle at Aunt Danni’s pissed expression. Devon, a bit confused in her anger, catches sight of Aunt Danielle’s face.
“What?” She says shortly, with attitude. My aunt gives her a glare that could freeze hell. “I took it off your tray didn’t I?”
She nods crisply, once, at Devon and Devon pops the rest of the cookie in her mouth.
“Oops,” she smirks. Aunt Danielle turns sourly away, but is too mad to say anything else. Aunt Sam cracks up and my mom joins in a second later. I grab Dev’s wrist and tow her upstairs to my room. She objects the whole way up, trying to pull herself out of my grip.
I point to my phone, still plugged into my charger. It takes a minute for her to comprehend but then her angry expression softens.
“Oh,” she murmurs, and sits down on my bed. Dev shrugs and pats the spot beside her. I sit down and pick up my phone, starting to sift through the messages I’ve received in the last few hours. I’ve got a few from my friends Julia, Nate, and Kristin, and then there’s the forty-five from Devon. She wasn’t kidding.
