The Bond

Food for Thought

I followed her into a house almost as familiar as my own. Where my house was typical lived in contemporary made predictable by the neighborhood and house itself, Liam's house was completely different. Holly had always had eccentric tastes, but after finding her inner artist, the house really took on a life of it's own. Stepping past the doorframe took me from run of the mill residential street to wacky beyond the looking glass family home.

There was the typical furniture, family photos, and signs of a teenage boy in sports, but it was all overwhelmed by cascading over grown ferns and twisting potted bamboo trees. Hanging spider plants and homemade chia sculptures verdant with life. And among the jungle of houseplants were violent abstract paintings and strange sculptures that when looked at sideways could almost resemble something familar. Like a person...or a pug faced llama. It was admittedly strange, but comforting all the same. And somehow Liam's mom sold and made reasonable income on the at times avant-garde fruits of her creative talents.

I inhaled the slightly humid air that came along with the plants and sculpting and felt something in me ease. It smelled like earth and the distinct scent of Liam and his family. Holly left me with the walk of a determined mother and shortly returned with my favorite bottled jasmine tea that her and I shared an appreciation for. I cracked the seal after thanking her and savored a mouthful of the nostalgic drink. It was refreshing and layered. Much like Holly herself.

"I don't know what offense my hapless offspring committed Ava, but I'm sure you two will get it sorted." The movement of her hands caught my attention, but I struggled to meet her eye. Suddenly I felt like I had betrayed her too. Tempting her son into flirting with our society's most unspeakable act.

"This time I'm the one at fault." I admitted shamefaced.

"Mea culpa!" She silently proclaimed and I looked at her in utter confusion, not understanding the shape of her words. She smiled at me generously and signed, "It means you're taking the blame, but if there is one thing I know about people, it's that there is usually blame to share. Communication is where it can be solved. You two love each other, it'll work out." She waved my angst away like it was inconsequential and put her hand on my back in a familial affection.

"Now I want your opinion on my current creation, come tell me what you think." I groaned loudly knowing she could hear it as she lead me into the dining room that had been converted into her art studio. I could see her shoulders shake with laughter and she quickly turned her head and mouthed, "I'm telling you Ava! You've got an artist's eye!"

It wasn't true, my capabilites extended as far as yellow + red = orange. She just wanted a victim and I had walked right into her web.

Later I shut the door to my bedroom after having washed the remnants of dried clay off me. She had suckered me into plunging my hands awkwardly into her lump of clay, claiming my unadulterated touch would add an organic component that her sculpture lacked. I remained unconvinced, but working with the wet clay had somehow made me feel better. Which I was more convinced had been Holly's true aim.
Sadly Liam didn't come home and the problem remained unsolved between us. I picked up my phone and texted him a concise "Sorry for being a jerk, I'm ready when you are."

Trying not to feel anxious about the possibility of Liam texting back, I instead got out my homework. It was a productive pastime and always better to try to get whatever I could done before my mate decided to cheat on me, which depleted a lot of my energy for the night.

I was lost in the details of my science report when I felt something in the room shift. There was no words to explain it, but I just knew I was no longer alone. I looked at my doorway and found Liam watching me with a peculiar look on his face. Not angry like I was afraid of, but more pensive and evaluating. His althetic body lounging contently against the door frame made me wonder how long he had been there. I turned my chair towards him self-consciously, abandoning my almost completed homework.

I took a steadying breath and brought my hands up to start my apology when Liam took the floor first.

"Your Mom has invited me to dinner, is that okay?" His dark eyes were quiet on me and there was something odd in his countenance that I wasn't familiar with. Almost like there was a different Liam facing me. A more complex and mature one than I had ever noticed before.

"Of course it's okay. Liam, I'm really--" I started to open the conversation but he cut me off with his hands.

"She actually sent me up here to get you, because dinner is ready now." With that he turned and left me to follow him. I felt completely at a loss. Liam had a right to be weird towards me, but this was something I didn't know how to make heads or tails of. He was acting so unlike himself that I didn't know what step to take with him. Did he just want to sweep it under the rug or was he hiding his anger? Feeling incredibly unsure of myself, I got up and followed in Liam's wake until I made it to the dinning room.

Liam was seated by my brother laughing silently at a video Louis was showing him. The choice was unusual though, because Liam always sat by me. Sitting next to my brother put Liam directly in front of my seat. His eyes flicked up from the video and again that strange look was on his face before Louis shoved another video at him. I could almost be grateful for my annoying brother as Liam's distraction released me from that unnerving look.

My Dad poked his head from the kitchen, his graying black mustache trimmed neatly above his upper lip so that we could read his lips easier. He waved his large bony hand to get my attention. I could already tell that Louis with his akward, thin frame would take after our Dad, whose body never seemed to gain weight. My father was lanky even entering into his forties, and had a bookish air about him. No doubt owing to his profession as a CPA.

I dutifully went to my father and he ruffled my hair affectionately, "Go help your mother while I make a quick phone call to my boss." His mustache dancing as he mouthed his request. He patted me once more before going off to make his call. Fixing my hair with a sort of annoyed affection, I rounded the corner into the kitchen. My mother swiveled around to face me after putting a delicious smelling lasagna that she had just pulled from the oven on the counter.

"Ava, go set the silverware on the table and ask Liam what he wants to drink." Her eyes slid past me landing on something behind me, her face breaking out into a warm smile. My back stiffened in surprise when I felt a hand grab my shoulder before I could bump into Liam as he came up beind me. My heart thumped unevenly as he left his hand on me, and I felt my body flash hot and cold thinking that my mom might find the touch odd. I pulled away from him casually. Liam seemed to take no notice as he got into our fridge to get his own drink.

My mom smacked my shoulder and pointed towards the silverware drawer before she started getting plates down from the cupboard. Mildly annoyed at everyone for no real reason, I grabbed a handful of paper towels and selected the correct utensils before heading back to the table. After putting the silverware down in each spot I went back too see what else my mom needed help with.

I found Liam leaning on the counter talking to my mom with words he knew only she could hear. Whatever he said had her flicking her kitchen towel at him as he laughed and made his escape with his drink. It was nothing new, but again I felt annoyed. My mother had always adored Liam, much the same way his mother adored me. I watched my mother smooth her straight black bob back into place after her mischief. I waited while she dished up plates knowing I'd be the one bringing them out.

My mother was short and curvy, unlike me. I wasn't freakishly tall like my father, but I definitely towered over my petite mother who was five foot nothing. Despite my lack of curves and height, I definitely had her face. Everyone told us so. My mother was pretty with a sweet heart shaped face and bold dark eyes that gave a saucy edge to her looks. But that's where my similarity to my mother ended. I definitely loved her, but we just didn't have that close mother daughter connection. I was more of a daddy's girl if anything.

My mother handed me two plates of lasagna and followed behind me with the other three, one expertly balanced on her delicate arm. No doubt a habit from her days working as a waitress in a Spanish restaurant.

My father got back to the table just in time for us all to sit down. I tried not to look at Liam as he sat directly in front of me, our feet briefly bumping. My mother kissed my father's cheek softly as she placed his plate in front of him and I could see his neck flush ever so slightly in response. She knew kisses in front of guests made him shy and she went to her chair with a humored glint in her eye. After saying prayer, I looked up and felt my stomach tighten.