"How was your day at school?"
"Same as usual, mom," I said. "Same as usual."
I shut the fridge and grabbed a spoon for my yoghurt. Mom had bought 30% fat ones that week. I hoped they tasted better than I remembered. The lemon one was traumatising so I could only pray that the strawberry was better.
"So, who was that boy you were talking to outside? Did he walk you home? Is he your boyfriend?"
"What? Mom, no!" I gasped. "He's a friend and no, he didn't walk me home. He was just on a run and I bumped into him. I haven't even got a boyfriend."
Mom continued to chop tomatoes, humming sarcastically, "yeah, I'm sure you haven't, Serena."
I sat on a stool up against the island and watched her work. Everyone said I looked like her and I didn't usually see her until I watched closely enough. Her auburn hair which she always tied up was where my redhead had come from and I had some of her facial features which always seemed youthful and unaging. In my opinion, my mom then looked just as she did twelve years ago when she use to pick me up from kindergarten.
"What are you making?" I asked.
"Pasta and tomatoes," she said. "It's a one bake recipe that was in my mother's cookbook. Have you seen it?"
She nodded to the book on the counter that gave off the impression that it was about to fall apart. I pulled it over to me. I had seen it a few times and heard mom talk of it to my dad many times, but I'd never bothered to look for the recipes. I knew that mom always made her chicken lazone and sweet potato fritters from this book (aswell as much else) and all of it was delightful (although my mom overcooked the potato fritters a bit too much for my taste), but I'd never bothered to glance at these recipes myself.
When I did, though, I realised just how straight forward most of them were. You may call me spoiled, but I never did take much interest in cooking, though my mother would often spend her days off in the kitchen. Unless it was a simple canned soup or last night's dinner to heat up, I used the microwave, so when it came to outside of Home Ec class, I had little to no experience.
"This sounds nice," I said honestly. "And, it smells it, too."
I could smell the mix of herbs rise as soon as my mother dropped the sliced tomatoes into the pan with the pasta, and even after she pushed it in the oven, the smell rose.
"Your father called while you were at school."
"Did he?" I asked, eyebrows raised. "How is he? What did he say?"
"Well, he was going to leave it as a surprise, but he's coming back on Friday, so I've planned a nice dinner for just the three of us."
"Really?" I gasped. I can only imagine the way my eyes lit up. "Oh, mom, I can't wait! I can't wait to see him again! What time does he get back?"
"I pick him up from the airport at six. I figured you could finish dinner while I go and get him and it'll be ready as soon as he gets back. You know how he hates eating during flights."
I took after him for that. Before a flight and during, my stomach literally churned at the thought of food, but as soon as I landed, I could eat my entire family out of house and home.
"That sounds like a plan!" I agreed. "Did he say how long he's back for?"
Mom shook her head. "I guess we could say indefinitely."
When she said that, I squealed with joy. After two long months, I was finally going to see my dad. There was no better feeling that that.
Needless to say, I was preoccupied all day at school on Friday. Holly was home with the flu and she'd requested I send her homework home to her. I decided to steer clear of the germs she had, not wanting to catch anything that winter, so I pushed the pages of homework into Indianna's hands at the end of the day, told her what to do with it and marched out of those doors like a free woman.
By the end of that week, the snow had cleared up completely, and although it was still cold, I didn't need to take my padded coat out with me at all times. I was finally able to get my faux fur coat out without having to bundle up completely underneath it. My life just seemed to be getting better and better. Obviously, my thoughts were that it was all because my daddy was coming back.
I missed him terribly whenever he was away, and my mom couldn't always get enough time off work to go to New York. She didn't trust me on a plane alone, you see. I was seventeen, and yet one simple journey was something she forbidded.
And, the underground? Don't even ask.
I rushed home taking the quickest route, threw my homework on my bed and began to ready myself for our family dinner. None of us dressed up usually, but I decided I'd push my limits a little bit with a red dress (lacey, knee length and flowy) and matching lipgloss. Mom always said red suited me, especially with my hair, so what was there not to take advantage of?
"How do I look?" I asked, stopping in the kitchen doorway. "Isn't too much, is it?"
Mom looked up from the stove. Her blue eyes softened. "No, you look beautiful, Serena. Do pin your hair up, though, even if it's just while you finish the dinner. I think your dad would rather not find your hair in his soup."
I knew very well that my dad would be sick at the thought, so I pinned it up in the hallway with pins from my mom's handbag. I could only manage a simple bun, but my dangling earrings rescued me from looking like a hairless cow.
It was soon after that my mom left for the airport and I was left in charge at home. The airport was about seventeen miles away. We always heard planes going over, mostly during the day, though, so it wasn't all that dreadful.
Even then, though, I still didn't understand why dad had moved us away from New York all those years ago. I had loved it there. I still do, even after all this time.
Dinner was practically finished, so I contented myself with absent mindedly stirring the contents of the pan and scrolling through the accounts on my phone. As per usual, there was nothing of any interest there.
But, then a message popped up on the screen.
|Holly Ellis| ready for james yet?
My mouth dropped. "Oh no!" I cried. "Oh my God, I totally forgot."
My keyboard appeared on the screen.
|Serena Barton| omg how could you let me forget? I totally forgot.
|Holly Ellis| well you better sort something out because he's on his way now. Fred spoke to him like five minutes ago.
|Serena Barton| but, my dad is on his way back from the airport!! I can't skip dinner!
|Holly Ellis| not my problem! You're fucked. James is hyped. This is your ticket to homecoming. Missing one dinner won't kill you.
|Serena Barton| you should have reminded me. Thanks for putting me in this situation. You're such a great friend.
I shut down the conversation and locked my phone. As Holly said, I was totally fucked.
"Oh, Fergie," I said to the dog who had taken up the stool beside me. "What have I done? What the hell am I supposed to do?"
"Princess!"
I squealed, despite the dreadful feeling in my stomach, as my dad walked through the door, pulling a suitcase behind him. I threw myself in his arms, taking in the familiar scent of his favourite designer perfume. His arms squeezed me back.
Like my mom, my dad looked young for his age. (It didn't help that they were twenty when they had me.) He was handsome for thirty-seven. He had dark hair, though there was hints of auburn that shone through only in the summer months.
"I've missed you, daddy," I said, parting from his arms. "How was your flight?"
My mom squeezed through the door and shut it before she let the chill in. "Your father got back fine," she said. "Leave your suitcase there, Garrett. We can take them up after dinner."
"Whatever you say, Angela." My dad rolled his eyes. "Come on, Serena. We'll be in the dining room."
Before any of you read this wrong, my mom and dad weren't just having the usual parent banter - as the English call it. They weren't in love. My grandparents arranged it after they finished high school, because they were friends and everyone thought it would work out for the best. My mom and dad were quite happy and they still were then. They were merely companions in raising me. They were close, but definitely not in a romantic way.
I had really not bothered to even think about it as a child. I never wondered why they were like it. As long as we were all happy, that was all that mattered.
Not five minutes later, my mom came in carrying our food. Me and my father talked of various things. I can't remember everything exactly. It's not something that stays in your mind forever.
He told me about business in New York, though.
"I should be back for a while unless any of the trials are pulled forward," he said. "All my paperwork can be sent back here. I have no plans to go back until the new year."
I can remember grinning from ear to ear. "Good," I told him. "You can come and watch me cheerlead tomorrow, then."
He exchanged a contented look with my mom. "Sounds like a plan."
Our conversation had almost made me forget about James (again), but then the doorbell rung. My blood ran cold.
Before I could move, my mom was up and on her way.
I remember my first thought was that my dad was going to kill me. I had never let any boy come home to meet my parents, James definitely wasn't the boy I wanted to risk it all for and it was my dad's first night back from New York.
"Hello, Mrs. Barton. Is Serena ready?"
My heart was sinking fast like the Titanic. I didn't even look up to meet my dad's gaze. You know those moments where you wanted to be swallowed alive by the rug? It was one of those.
My mom muttered something I couldn't quite hear, then I heard the door close. As much as I wished, I knew I wasn't quite safe. It took seconds for my mom to reappear in the dining room with James in tow.
"Serena, you have a visitor," said my mom.
I tried to remember everything I'd learned in Drama class. I needed to pretend I had forgotten about the plans I'd made.
"Oh, James!" I clapped my hand over my mouth. "Oh my God, I totally forgot it was tonight. I am so sorry!"
In the bottom of my heart, I was beginning to develop a feeling of guilt. James had drove all the way here and even dressed up in a suit to take me out on a date. He had cleaned up nicely, but I found that my preference in boys lately was not so polished.
I didn't even know where it was all coming from.
James' face fell. "Is now not a good time, then? Don't worry. We can make plams for another night." Slowly, though, he pulled two tickets frok his pocket. "It was just that I booked a show."
I could feel my parents' eyes on me as silence fell. I didn't know what they expected me to say, but obviously they didn't expect the silence because it took mere seconds for my mom to 'fix' this little situation.
"When does it start?" she asked, careful to keep on her polite smile.
"In just over a hour, Mrs. Barton," he said sheepishly, "but if I've interrupted, then I apologise. Serena and I can do something another night."
"No need," replied my mom. She stood. "Stay. Have dinner with us, then you and Serena can be off. Garrett and I would be happy for you to join us, wouldn't we?
"Of course," replied my dad.
I was flabbergasted, to say the very least. Not one of them had consulted me in their decision and I was fuming. What if I didn't want to go with him, mom? Huh? Didn't think of that one, did you?
And to make matters worse, James tucked the tickets in his pocket and sat down while he awaited my mom to bring him a plate of food. All of a sudden, I wasn't hungry.
"What's your name, son?" my dad asked.
James cleared his throat. "James Herring, sir. That is, James Herring Jr., I mean."
"And your parents are?"
"James and Valerie Herring, sir." My mom set a plate down in front of him. "Thank you, ma'am." He continued on to my dad. "My father owns a car company in South Carolina - along with several other businesses and a hotel in Los Angeles. My mom is a beautician, sir, and works part-time running my father's hotel. One or the other of them are away often."
I tried not to look at anyone. It felt like meet the parents, but seriously, I had already made my mind up that James and I were going nowhere. They could have their fun, be impressed by the future he could 'possibly' offer me, but I wasn't attracted to James.
I was not going to be condemned to the same loveless married life my parents had been. Maybe they were happy with that, but I never would be.
Never.
"Serena says you're a attorney, sir," said James. He wasted no time in digging into my mother's cooking. "This is delightful, Mrs. Barton. Do you cook much?"
"Only every day, James," laughed my mother. "And, your mother - is she homely?"
"She can be, but we have a cook, too, ma'am, so she doesn't have to cook on her busy days." He swallowed another bite. "My favourite of her cooking are her apple and cherry pies. You will never taste one quite like hers."
James was getting too comfortable. I didn't even need to make a mental note to make myself remember to tell him off for it, because as soon as we were in the car, I was going to go mental at him.
Why, you ask? James was the perfect candidate for a boyfriend in my parents' eyes. He worked as a apprentice in his father's company, came from money, would never want for anything in his life and had a college education and bright future ahead of him. They were going to adore him.
James continued to talk to my parents, but I kept myself silent, carefully picking at the mashed potatoes. They spoke of colleges (my dad found it fitting to point out my lowering grades and the fact that Yale and Harvard would definitely not accept me now), various political topics and even what their plans for Christmas were. I felt like I'd been sitting there hours by the time dinner was devoured.
My dad and James were laughing when my mom interrupted.
"You two better head off if you don't want to miss that show."
James checked his watch. I willed myself to be sick, to have a excuse, but I couldn't. I didn't want to go.
"Your mom is right, Serena." James smiled and rose. "Are you ready?"
For the sake of only my parents, I smiled and nodded.
James was in for it. I was going to make sure he understood my rules exactly.
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A/N: Hope all of you enjoyed! Next chapter will be up Thursday! I've just finished it and am starting chapter seven now! I'm so excited. You guys have no idea what's coming up!!!
Amy x