Mickey Who? [OLD VERSION]

~3~ Why Me?

Chapter Three: Why Me?

Song for this chapter: “Jet Lag” by Simple Plan

          Somehow I was able to refrain myself from telling Heather about the whole Mickey thing. Maybe I should have…no, I knew I should have told her, but the warning that the retired Mickey told me echoed harshly over and over in my head. And I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

          As I closed the door behind me, the aroma of my favorite dish drifted to my nose. Meat loaf. I didn’t always like it, and most of the time I couldn’t stand it, but when my mother made her signature meat loaf, there was nothing in the world that could keep me away from it.

          It was early still around five-ish, but to us it wasn't unusual to have dinner this early because she normally worked the night shift at her job. She was currently working as a nurse, and she seemed to enjoy helping patients.

          I set my keys on the key rack next to the door, and dropped my backpack under it, not bothering to take it to my room.

          “Ana?” A familiar voice echoed through the small, but comfortable house. “Is that you?”

         “Yeah, Mom,” I called back.

          “Could you come here for a moment? I need some help.”

          “Sure.” I padded into the kitchen and noticed my mom standing in front of the sink. In many ways people said we looked alike. We had the same dark, wavy hair, except hers was cropped to just a little higher than her shoulders, while mine stopped a little lower than my mid-back. We also shared the same pale complexion, face shape, and slim body structure.

          My mother was kind and loving, just like a mother should be. I was an only child with a single mother, so we clicked pretty well. My dad had left us when I was just a baby, so I never really had any attachment to him. The only thing I knew about him was just from the stories my mom used to tell me when I was younger. And there was only really one thing that my father and I apparently shared, and that was our soft brown eyes. My mom’s were a contrasting light shade of blue.

          “What cha need?” I asked when I was within earshot from her.

           She turned around and smiled warmly. “Can you set up the table, hun?”

          “I sure can,” I replied, as I made my way over to the utensil drawer. I pulled out two forks and two knifes before turning towards the dining room.

           “So how was school?” she inquired.

          “It was alright.”

           “Anything new?”

          I hesitated only for a moment before I lied. “Nope.” There was no reason for me to tell her about the whole “Mickey” business. She didn’t even know there was such a thing as the anonymous Mickey at our school….and it wasn’t like I was actually going to accept the job…right? And I was trying the best I could to ignore the whole situation in the first place.

          As I placed the forks and knifes on the table, along with a pair of napkins, Mom had just walked in behind me, two plates full of meatloaf and country potatoes ready in hand.

           I could feel my mouth water as she drew closer. Did I mention that meatloaf was my favorite dish? After placing the plates, she took her seat, and then I dug in.

         “So, did you get a car wash?” she questioned, as I stuffed in a forkful.

          Since my mouth was full, I made a noise that somewhat resembled a yes. The corners of her lips lifted up at the corners, and she shook her head.