My Record Store Romance

"Oh and, if you need anything, the car keys are on the hook in the garage."

"Okay."

And with that, she walked over to me again and placed a kiss on the top of my forehead, before making her way out the door. It shut behind her softly, and I let out another breath I had no idea I had even been holding.

I probably wouldn't see her sleek and professional self until next morning, when I said bye to her again and she walked out the door, telling me there was some new case to start on.

I mean, don't get me wrong, having a lawyer as a mom definitely had its perks. The nice house, the nice cars, but material thing's importance tended to dwindle away quickly, especially since she was always missing everything. And I mean, everything.

She got up before the crack of dawn every morning, being the early riser she was, and left, only to return late in the night. She worked seven days a week, and talking about a day off was almost like talking about aliens with her. She knew nothing but working, and she loved it. She never gave a second thought to anything else than the case she was currently working on; and there was always cases to be worked on.

I knew that she tried to do things, and I really loved her for that. And I know that she loved me as well. But with things like cooking skills and social skills and even mothering skills for that matter, she just never seemed to get the hang of it. She also never realized that if she maybe just sat down and stuck around for a while, it wasn't really all that complicated in the first place.

But she never, ever lost a case, that's for sure.

I sighed.

Maybe I was like this because she hadn't always been this way. Maybe it was because I use to know who she really was, beforehand, and some part of me wished she would go back to who she used to be.

But she wouldn't, because time passes and people change, and my dad was to blame for her change.

I cringed. I hated thinking about my dad. I didn't wanted to think about him right now, or ever again for that matter.

So I made my way over to the counter and yanked the plate right into my hands, balancing it on my arms as I stumbled over to the couch.

Another thing about my mom; she didn't really approve on the whole "eating on the couch bit" but she wasn't here to stop me. Plus, if she came home and found the full plate of uneaten pancakes on the counter, she might just flip a lid. I owed it to her to try them at least, or I thought I did anyway.

I molded into the plush couch cushions, slumping down as I flipped on the T.V. and placed the plate onto my lap. The television was muttering some obscenities as I picked up a little brown (maybe a little green) circle, and eyed it.

Okay, maybe this one isn't too bad. Don't judge a book by its cover.

But who was I kidding, as soon as I took a bite, I nearly died. I threw the plate to the side, and as I choked in between fits of coughing and gagging and wishing I hadn't tried them in the first place, there was a banging on the door.

And being scared half to death while your lungs are exploding because you ate something that tasted a little too much like mothballs to be edible, is a pretty bad combination, if you couldn't figure that out already.

"I'll be right there!" I coughed, recovering from my mini heart attack and fixing my pajamas. Composing myself the best that I could, I looked around suspiciously before hobbling over to the door.

I was flooded with relief when I saw my best friend, Millie, standing on the porch. She looked horribly uncomfortable and continued to bang on the door as I approached the lock.