After leaving, my mom and I go out to eat, then we go bowling. It's something we used to do when she and Dad would fight and she needed to blow off steam. My mom is beautiful. She has dark brown hair, blue eyes, and skin tan enough to get by, but pale enough to be called pale. With wonderful curves and the flexibility of a 20-year-old, people have a hard time believing she's my mom and not my sister.
Wednesday is spent with Aunt Cleo, currently living with us, and we play board games and watch TV all day. Aunt Cleo, my mother's sister and really, my mom's only friend, looks exactly like my mom, but where my mom's face is a diamond, Aunt Cleo's is a heart-shaped. Both have beautiful blue eyes that match my own, and brown hair to go with it. My Aunt Cleo's a little tanner than my mom and I, but then again, some guys find being pale to be sexy.
Aunt Cleo's always been a bit more like a best friend to me than an aunt. She was my grandparents' late-in-life baby, being born when my mom was 15, only five years before yours truly was born. Like me, Cleo doesn't have a dominant bone in her body. We both can hold our own against others, but we like to feel safe and cared for, in the bedroom, we like to be dominated. Simple. Some people go full-on submissive, with the collar, and constantly calling their partner "Master" or "Mistress/Madame". I'be even seen some crawling while their Dominant holds a leash. See, I don't get that, but I'm not one to judge. To each their own, I guess.
Nathan and I spend most of the day in our living room, me on my phone while he plays video games. I like to tease him, but he doesn't care. I think he likes it. Making someone laugh. My mom cries herself to sleep almost every night, so he does his best to cheer us up whenever he can.
"Why do you have to go, Tally?" He asks, still playing his game.
"Because I need to go out and live," I tell him simply. "Don't worry, bud. I'll come visit."
"Promise?" He asks.
"Promise. As often as I can."
He pauses his game and runs over to hug me. He's eight years old, and was only five when our dad left. After that happened, Nate was the only thing that held me together. He didn't really do anything, but I was often reminding myself not to break down because I needed to be there for him. It helped me get a good hold on my emotions. Which is why, although I seriously want to, I am able to hold in the tears and not cry in front of him.
"It'll be okay, little brother."
"Okay. I hope you're right."
I scoff, trying to make light of things. "I'm always right." He rolls his eyes and I ruffle his hair.
After Cleo and my mom get home from work, we all go out to Little Caesars. When I go to bed that night, I think Cleo and my mom are a little misty-eyed as I go upstairs to bed. Later, I wake up in the middle of the night to find Nathan hugging me close in his sleep. Smiling, I cover him up a little more with the blankets and go to sleep.
In the morning, it's hard not to be sluggish as I get ready. I have to force myself not to cry, and surprisingly, I don't. Cleo and my mom hug me, the latter in full-blown tears. And the former saying I can call or come home anytime that I want. I spend a little longer with Nate, and tell him again that I'll come home as much as possible.
Then I get in my car, and I leave the only home I've ever known.