Waking up to a dog breathing right in your face isn't the most pleasant experience. Maximus' muzzle was almost touching my nose and I swear he looked like he was smiling.
I pushed at him hard but the damn dog weighs almost as much as I do, so I didn't gain much separation.
"You need your teeth brushed, you're disgusting," I whined.
I lay in bed for a while, trying to listen for movements downstairs. Kyle was sure to be at his house and probably wouldn't come around here with the parents at home again. But I wouldn't put it past Brandon to be hanging around, waiting to pounce so he could give me some of his great 'advice'. Which probably meant that bitch of a wife of his was probably sulking around, too. Okay, that was unfair; she wasn't that bad, usually, but they all were staring at me with that look of contempt and disappointment when they found me last night: like I had purposefully gone out of my way just to make their lives miserable.
Maximus wasn't interested in vacating my bed so I let him have it and padded downstairs to find something to eat. It was almost noon I noticed as I passed the old grandfather clock; I must have been more tired than I realized, but I felt better today than I had in a while. I was hungry.
The house was quiet though, nobody seemed to be around. For a second, I wondered if I had dreamed everything up last night, but then I saw dad's Tahoe in the driveway. I grabbed an apple from the refrigerator, sat down at the table and took a large bite. It tasted delicious. Looking around the kitchen I could tell that dad had been here earlier, a neatly folded financial newspaper lay at the far end of the table.
My mum's voice surprised me from behind and I jumped in my seat, "You better plan on eating more than an apple, young lady," she said as she came into the kitchen.
I had eaten the apple down to the core so I binned it and got another one out of the refrigerator. I sat down at the table again and took a loud bite. The apple was crunchy and just as good as the first one.
"I said you better eat more than an apple. Were you not listening?"
"I thought you meant I couldn't eat just one apple, so I got another one," I said, my mouth full of chewed apple. I knew it would wind her up her up, but I was in that kind of mood.
"Don't get cheeky with me, Jillian," she said sharply.
Oh yes, this was going to be a lovely day. I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes because I could feel her gaze burning a hole into the side of my head.
"Your father and I want to talk to you this afternoon," she began. I watched as she pulled out a cylindrical carton of oatmeal and went to the stove, "But I want you to look presentable. You know I don't like it when you're dressed like that."
Yes, I knew. Pajamas and messy hair belonged in the bedroom. It was almost a mortal sin to come downstairs not neatly showered and dressed. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen my mum out of sorts; ever. I ate my apple but nodded quickly when she looked at me. A few minutes later she put a large bowl of hot oatmeal in front of me with a glass of milk.
"We will expect you in your father's office once you've eaten and dressed for the day," she said curtly and then left.
"Nice to see you too, mum," I mumbled under my breath, looking at the plain oatmeal.
If I had been at Brooklyn's house her mum would have sat down at the table and chatted the day away with me, interested in everything I had to say no matter how trivial or stupid it was. Everything was so much more relaxed at her house.
I powered my way through breakfast and felt near to bursting when I was finished, I hadn't eaten that much in a long time. Then I did as instructed and cleaned my face, brushed my hair and dressed in a nicer pair of shorts and a blouse; clothes that wouldn't have been my first pick but I had a feeling I didn't want to be stirring any pots today.
The door to the office was open and I could hear hushed voices as I approached; what I wouldn't give to know what they were saying. I knocked on the doorjamb and stepped inside. Dad was sitting in his usual place behind a large, ornate oak desk, and mum had taken a place in one of the high-backed reading chairs to his right.
"Good afternoon, Jamiee," dad said.
Dad was disarming that way. He was the one that gave me my nickname and I loved it when he used it, even though I knew mum hated the name. At least dad didn't look as upset as mum did, I noted as I took a seat in front the desk.
"Hi daddy,"
"Come here, kid," he said, holding out his arms toward me. I went to him and smiled as he wrapped me into a warm hug and messed my hair, "You gave us quite a scare yesterday," he said, releasing me but still holding my upper arms in his hands.
I bowed my head slightly, "I'm sorry; I really didn't mean to fall asleep," I felt like I was twelve years old again—I guess parents will always be your parents.
"Let's forget about it then," he said, and I heard mum tut in disappointment. "It looks like you've been spending a lot of time at the beach while we were gone."
I looked down at my arms and hands. The skin was a darkly tanned, as it usually was during a summer at home. "There wasn't much else to do," I finally admitted.
Dad made some guttural sound I wasn't sure how to interpret, and then he and mum shared a look, "It might not be such a bad thing to have some downtime this summer," he finally stated, "After all, you'll have your," he turned to mum questioningly...
"A-Levels," answered mum.
"—Right, A-Levels, you'll have your A-Levels to take this year, right?"
I nodded.
"We expect you to do well this year. Next year will be college and that's a big step," said dad.
Then mum spoke up, "Have you thought about which university you will attend?"
"University College London," I answered quickly.
Dad looked disappointed, "I'd hoped you might consider San Diego State," he said, wanting to persuade me to go to his alma mater.
"And will Miss McGregor be attending there, too?" asked mum.
"Most likely," I answered back, knowing that my mum didn't ask that question randomly.
"Who's this?" asked dad, looking again at mum for help.
"Jillian's roommate at school," said mum.
"That's great then," he said, turning his attention back to me. "It'll be good to have a friend there. It should be quite an adventure," dad suddenly looked thoughtful and when he spoke he sounded much more serious, "Jamiee, your mother and I need to go out of town again for a while. I'm sorry we haven't been home much, but if things work out as we hope; I'll be selling my part of our business and officially retiring. This will give us a lot more time to visit our kids and grandkids."
I wasn't sure whether to feel elated or depressed. I had hardly seen my parents for months, barely spoken to them even, and now they were off jet-setting to their next jaunt. But this was normal with them. They always seemed to be engaged in the lives of my brothers and their families, but somehow I just wasn't that interesting to them or hadn't done enough to capture their attention.
"That'll be lovely I'm sure," I said neutrally.
"Eventually it will be. Your mother and I only have one hard push left and then we'll be on a permanent vacation. I've got to be out of town for a couple of weeks, but your mum will try to get back sooner. Then I promise we'll spend some quality time together. And then when school starts, maybe we'll make it over there and you can give me a tour. I haven't been to England in years—it's probably time."
"I'd like that," I said, and I actually meant it. Mum had come to my school a handful of times over the years when she would go and visit family, but dad had never been.
"Your brother Brian will look after you while we're away," mum added, officially ruining my day.
I wanted to shout that I didn't need a minder, but there was no winning this battle so it wouldn't do to waste ammunition needlessly.
Brian was my closest brother in age, but he was still eight years older than me, and he was the one brother I had the hardest time getting along with. He had just gotten married last summer and he and his wife only lived about twenty minutes away by car, so that meant I probably wouldn't see much of him after the first day.
"When are you leaving?" I asked.
"In a couple of days," said dad. "We'll go out to dinner tonight and you can catch us up on things."
This was going to be a long day.
_-_
What in the bloody hell was I doing here? I asked myself for the thousandth time. I looked at my watch; it was half twelve. The street was empty and most of the house lights were off. Dinner with the parents had been excruciating and I was going mental sitting in my room. I had to get out, but moreover I had to resolve something that wouldn't quit nagging me.
I knocked on the door for the second time and was about to leave when the porch light came on.
The door opened and a disheveled Kyle Brooks appeared; his eyes still half shut with sleep, "Jamiee?" he asked, surprised.
I stood there uncomfortably with my hands clasped in front of me, "Hey."
Kyle ran his hand over his face and rubbed his eyes, "What are you doing here? Aren't your parents home?" he asked, yawning through most of the sentence.
I nodded and absentmindedly rubbed my arm as a night breeze passed over my skin. It was summer, but the nights were sometimes a little too cool.
"Sorry, get in here," he insisted, opening the door wider and stepping aside.
