Six Months with Irene | ✓

//IRENE// 08

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED COPYRIGHTED 2015

CHAPTER EIGHT

IRENE

Stupid fig pudding—Irene thought to herself as she pushed the dish away from her, not caring that it would be rude behavior to do so. She would rather be in her bedroom right now—blasting Steve Perry or the Rolling Stones on full volume than sitting in the dining room that she and Selene used once every year (when her grandparents came over for Christmas), while plastering a large grin to everyone and listening to Orion's annoying as hell little sister, Eliza, talking about her school week and how she had just dealt with her first break up.

Honey, you don't even know heartbreak yet—Irene grumbled in her mind, before she glanced up from her plate and found that both Selene and Erin were chatting animatedly to each other about anything and everything. Years without the company of her late husband made Selene an expert when it came to avoiding topics that had to do with Rico.

"I'm done," Irene stated before she went to get up from her seat—finding that both Selene and Erin turned their attention towards her again. The unsaturated disappointment was smothering Irene from the gaze that her mom gave her, the deepness of the irritation mixed with the disappointment did nothing more than have Irene roll her eyes at her.

"Oh, but dear, you didn't even eat any of the fig pudding," Erin pointed out, and Irene couldn't help but roll her bluish gray irises at the woman again—knowing that the last thing that she wanted to talk about at the moment was fig pudding and how this horrible stuff was passed down and the award winning speech when it came to Erin wanting to have Irene actually sit down and eat that piece of shit.

"Do not call me dear," Irene hissed at the woman, as she stood behind her dining chair and tightened her fingers against the wooden chair. "And don't mention that pudding again, or I'll tell you my opinion on your stupid fig pudding and I think you'd not like that."

"Irene!"

Irene turned her attention away from the woman sitting calmly in her seat, her eyes showing a muse of hiddenness. Selene sat at the end of the table, and her eyes shot daggers at her daughter as she calmly stood up and almost glared at her daughter as though she had just committed murder in front of her very own eyes.

"Apologize!"

"You want me to apologize? I'm just telling her the truth. Her family fig pudding is a piece of shit!" Irene pointed out, earning an earth defying silence in the dining room. Flickering her eyes towards Erin, she saw that her face was still the same—stone cold towards the comment.

Turning towards Eliza, she saw that the girl was glaring at her with the hottest glare that any child could give. Her hands were by her sides, in tight fists, and Irene could tell that she was fighting the urge from flying across the table and tackling the teenage girl onto the ground and demand that she apologize for being mean to her mom.

For some odd reason, Irene knew not to look at Orion. She merely shoved her dining room chair back against the table—making it shake and quiver from the force of the it smacking against the table—before she headed in the direction of where the dining room doors were. She heard the sound of her mom moving out from where she was standing, to stop her from leaving the room—but Irene was faster than her mom was and reached the doors.

Throwing them open, she turned to look at her mom, who was tightening her lips in a hard line as she stared at her daughter with the uppermost of hatred that Irene had ever seen. It was quite obvious now that she had broken the last branch that was there between her and Selene. The bond that once was there had been snapped and her mom stood in front of her with hate directed towards her daughter, at the fact that she had torn another opportunity of wearing a happy mask to someone.