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Today the sun rose in a bare blue sky shining its yellow rays across the entire town of Westview. Water sprinkled over lawns in rain like patterns, birds sang cheerful tunes, a perfect illusion disguising my insanity.
After my nightmare last night I woke up on edge. I managed to slip out of my fiancé's hold admiring his peaceful face holding no worry lines that looked at me in concern.
I ran my hand through his long grown-out hair, my thumb brushed his cheek and I softly pressed my lips to his warm cheek.
Bucky deserved peace after what he's been through and I was causing anything but that. He assured me he was happy to be home but my mind was telling me I was disrupting that happiness.
I quickly dressed into an appropriate outfit and made my way downstairs and into the kitchen.
My mother dressed in a white apron flipped pancakes over the stove while simultaneously whisking eggs in a small yellow bowl.
"Do you need my help with anything?" I offered my help, lifting a towel uncovering a warm fluffy pancake as I plopped it into my mouth.
My mother sent a disapproving glare in my direction at my action and I returned it with an innocent smile. "Would you pop three pieces of bread into the toaster dear?"
I nodded, opening the yellow cupboard over the sink, grabbing a loaf of bread. I tossed three slices of bread into the toaster. I watched the timer count down slowly inviting my thoughts as I stood waiting.
"Hey, mom?" I started. "Do you remember where Buck was stationed before he came home?"
"Overseas honey," she answered without answering my question. "Is your memory already going?" she joked and I smiled.
"It seems that way," the toaster popped and I slid butter to the tops of each piece, throwing them into a neat stack on a plate. "I just can't remember where."
"Don't worry about it sweetheart," she patted my back and walked over to the fridge to grab a carton of my favorite orange juice. "I'm sure you're overtired."
"Why does everyone keep saying that?" I muttered quietly to myself.
"Here," she handed me a tray. The plate held three already buttered pancakes, hash browns, eggs, and a slice of wheat toast. On a coaster was a cup of freshly poured orange juice. "Morgan was feeling ill this morning, would you take this plate up for her?"
I nodded gladly, taking the plate up to my sister's room. I knocked on the ajar door three times. "Roomservice!"
