Chasing Blue

#2: Phasing Out.

In time we hate that which we often fear.
-William Shakespeare

. . .

Present

Isabella

I cut through another piece of the freshly prepared blueberry cheesecake and savor it with a fork. My mom isn't a baker by profession but she definitely should become a baker by choice. Her newfound obsession with trying out youtube recipes is something I blatantly support. 

"Mom, these are so good," I say slurping the drool that followed the after-taste. "Surely the best of all your batches." 

"Really? I thought the crust was not completely roasted yet." She said pulling out a new fork and digging into the cake. She carefully placed the piece inside her mouth, without as much as touching the freshly applied red lipstick. "I also couldn't whip the blueberries properly because the hand blender stopped working and your dad still hasn't bought me a new--"

"Oh lord, for the eighth time, we'll get the new hand blender tonight, Lisa." My dad said walking inside the kitchen towards the aisle. 

He was dressed in a white shirt that was perfectly tucked inside his black formal pants. His blazer was resting on the head of the couch, and his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He walked toward my mom and she turned around to adjust his tie. 

My parents have been married for twenty-three years now. And still, they look just married to me. They are partly the reason I believe marriages are successful. They are a breathing example. Not that they don't share differences in opinions, but I've never seen any arguments getting dirty. 

"Doesn't matter, it tastes perfect," I assure her. 

Dad kissed my mother's forehead when she was done adjusting his tie. He never does his tie. He walked over to me and opened his mouth, in anticipation of a bite. I slowly feed him a piece, careful not to spoil his neatly ironed shirt. 

"Oh, wow, the cream just melts," he said in appreciation of the cheesecake. 

It was almost dusk but my parents were getting ready to leave home for a business meeting. They are exceptional to the outer world, they don't go in accordance with the circadian rhythm. They don't have fixed meeting timings, sometimes they're right across the city and sometimes right across the country. They own a business line that deals with marketing brands and clothing lines. Just recently, they officially bought a few brands which not only meant success but with it came unpredictable meeting schedules. 

When they leave without warnings, it's usually the recycle bin that stays with me at my place. I don't stay alone. It's an unsaid rule but it's seriously followed. I never stay alone because I am incapable of properly functioning in solitary. But this time, I'm glad my sister is in town. She came back from New York for the spring break, and now I get to hear stories about her acting school. 

"Where are you both off to?" I ask as I continue eating my cake and they both take turns to answer. 

"Berlin. We'll be back early in the morning." Dad said as he hunted for his socks in the wrong place. 

Mom opened the drawers above the shoe cabinet and threw them at him. He caught it with ease and a smile. I rolled my eyes. 

"There's food in the refrigerator. You can heat it up or order something in. Grace told me you're going to a party, so I'm guessing you won't eat dinner?" Mum turned to me. 

I scoffed. "I will eat dinner and go to the party." 

She chuckled and gave me a thumbs up. She walked over to the shoe rack and slipped on a pair of red shoes that match her outfit. After sliding them in, she headed back towards me, her maroon eyes eyeing me with a hint of curiosity.