"It's nine thirty on a Saturday morning. Wake up." The curtains are pulled apart, allowing a deathly amount of sunlight into the dark room.
"Dad, just five more minutes." I roll over and pull the covers over my head.
"You've said that three times already. Get up. There's work to be done around here." He exits the room leaving the windows and door open.
"Well what if I wasn't here, who would have done the work?" I grumble to myself as I put on my slippers and stretch.
"That's why it's a good thing you're here isn't it?" Dad says from outside the room, "Meet me in the backyard."
I drag my feet outside, passing through his office for a shortcut. Dad is already raking up a huge pile of leaves. He points to a second rake lying on the wall. There's no getting out of this so I might as well just get it over with. I grab the rake and finish up the larger portion of the yard he left untouched.
Halfway into the work, dad drops his rake and goes back inside the house. I take the opportunity to rest. The stupid tree causing so much havoc used to be Korra and I's pastime almost every day when we were kids. Only one of the two tire swings is still standing and the tree house that used to be on it is long gone. I sit on the dusty swing and memories of when Maya used to sit on one swing and have me sit on her lap while Korra enjoyed the other swing herself rush in.
"Your sister told me that you hated this swing when you were younger." I didn't notice that my dad had come back out and was holding a cold glass of lemonade to my face. I take the cup and thank him.
"That girl is not very good at keeping secrets is she?" I sip on the cold drink and place the cup on a window ledge.
"Why didn't you? I thought you loved it."
"I only seemed happy on this thing because Korra loved it. She always wanted to be on it but she also never wanted to leave me by myself inside. I used to get so nauseous but I'd suck it up so she could have her fun." I laugh at the memory of me puking all over Maya's favourite dress once.
"That's sweet. But your sister loved taking care of you when you were kids, she never complained. I remember when you guys were about 5 or 6, she came up to me and told me that she wanted to be your mom when she got older and when I asked her why she said it was because she wanted to take care of you forever since you couldn't do it yourself."
"I think I can believe that. She was always saying dumb, cheesy things like that." Growing up wasn't easy considering how deadbeat my dad used to be but Korra always made it feel like I had everyone I needed just with her. I wasn't the best sister but she never complained.
"Well thanks for the lemonade and cringey memories but I'd like to get back to work and get it over with."
"Right. When you're done could you water the Angels too?" I nod and he goes back inside.
After what feels like forever, I finally finish raking up the whole backyard. I down the rest of the lemonade in one gulp and get the watering can from the shed.
Maya called her Angelita Daisies her 'Angels'. She always let me and Korra water them when we got back from school.
"Breakfast is ready." Dad yells from the kitchen.
"Almost done."
Maya was such a rare, wonderful person, that's why her passing hurt me a lot. You'd have never guessed she was our stepmom. She raised us like she would her own kids, even though she didn't have any. She couldn't. I've always felt some sort of guilt ever since she passed. I never made life easy for her, I was such a terrible kid. Always spilling stuff, breaking stuff, and just causing a mess every chance I had so she'd have more work to do. I hated how nice she was, no one should be that nice.
"I don't think they're thirsty anymore." Dad says from behind me snapping me out of my daze.
"Shoot. That's way too much water." I grab a shovel in a vain attempt to scoop up the excess water.
"It's alright. They'll be fine. Let's go inside." I follow dad back inside the house.
Just like yesterday, the table is set with more food than you think just two people would be able to handle. Pancakes, eggs and bacon, toast, everything.
"Are you having any guests over for breakfast?" I ask as I take my seat.
"No. Why'd you ask?"
"Nevermind." I start myself off with a stack of pancakes, my favourite breakfast, lunch and dinner.
In half an hour, the table is cleared with just a few bits and pieces left. I turn to look at my dad to find him still nibbling on the eggs and bacon he had on his plate when we sat down to eat. His eyes are on the newspaper he's reading while his head is turned to face the food.
"You've overfed me. I feel like I'm going to explode." I say while stuffing the last pancake in my mouth.
"Oh stop it. Go rest a little before you take a bath."
"Thanks for breakfast. You know you could have called me to help right?" I start clearing the table.
"And have you burn down my house? No thank you."
The day goes by quietly with dad's clients – or patients, I don't know what he calls them – coming in and out of the house every few hours. I roam the house I haven't been in for over ten years and nothing seems to have changed in the mansion. Looking back, I start to regret leaving in the first place but my memories quickly remind me that it was pretty obvious that I didn't belong in such a 'perfect' place. And by perfect I mean normal; everyone was normal except me and I got quite sick of it.
Evening comes in a rush and lights hidden in the trees illuminate the land around the house with a golden yellow hue. The air starts to get chilly so I close the windows, turn off the TV and leave the room to find my dad.
"Good job Austin. Now don't forget to take your medication every night okay. Your mom's going to make sure you take them so you get better. Okay bye." The voice is coming from my dad's office.
The back door in the office slams shut just as I enter. Dad's sitting on one of the sofas facing the coffee table, engrossed in what he's scribbling on a piece of paper.
"You still do this for kids? I thought you'd have moved on to adults by now." He turns around and smiles as I approach him.
"That's not how it works. Child psychologists only work with children so they don't 'move on' to adults." I shrug and land on the sofa facing him with a thud.
"You're hungry aren't you?" He read my mind.
"I already put the mac and cheese in the fridge because I didn't want to wake you up before but the lasagne's still out. Let me just warm it up a little."
He leaves for the kitchen while my stomach does a little dance at the sound of lasagne. I could eat the whole dish if only he'd let me.
I wander around the office as I wait for dinner. This room has been the same for over 20 years. If anything in this house changes, it wouldn't be this room, ever. Dad would always come in here whenever I was throwing a tantrum or having a meltdown. It always made me feel like a burden but fortunately it's all in the past now.
I sit at his huge desk and my eyes land on the drawer we were never allowed to touch growing up. Korra and I used to get in so much trouble because we were curious about why we weren't allowed to touch it. I slowly slide it open and it creaks like it hasn't been opened in a while. There are only 3 things inside.
Is this what we weren't allowed to touch? Unbelievable!
We were shooed from a laminated flower, a manuscript and a ring.
I inspect the flower and it looks like a wild cherry; I may be wrong. The ring is a simple gold band and it looks quite old. The owner must be have had very slim fingers because the ring doesn't even fit my pinkie.
Lastly, I pick the manuscript and sit on the desk as I flip through it. Dad used to write books when he was younger, this must be one of his works. He used to tell us stories of how he travelled around the world for inspiration anytime he was stuck. The manuscript is titled 'Winter in Summer: A Cold Hearted Lover'. On reaching the last page, a picture falls out from between the pages and onto my lap. The picture looks just as aged as the ring.
I recognize one person in the picture, my dad. He looks so young; this is probably from the 90s. He's in a white shirt, brown pants and matching suspenders, with his jacket swung over his shoulder. He has his hand slung over a woman in a short floral dress and strappy heels. They were obviously happy, you can tell from the wide smiles on their faces.
Looking closer, the woman looks familiar. Not to exaggerate but she looks a lot like me. Anyone else would think it was me at an oldies party if they didn't recognize my dad. I turn the picture around and on the back are 2 names – Edan and Alison.
Me and Korra's middle names?
"I brought your food here. I thought you wouldn't want to…" Dad enters the room again and he pauses as he stares at what I have in my hands. He drops the tray on the coffee table and rushes over to grab the picture and the manuscript from me.
"I thought I told you to never touch this drawer." He sees the ring wedged on my pinkie and yanks it off.
"Ow! I was just looking around. And you told us that when we were kids. I didn't realize that rule still stood."
He looks like he's just been caught in a lie. He rushes to put everything back in the desk. I snatch the picture back and run to the other side of the room. He isn't getting away with this so easily.
"Who's the lady in the picture and why do I think she looks a lot like me?" I dodge him around the sofas as he chases me around the room. We continue like that until he gets tired and starts to wheeze, so do I.
"Are you going to tell me or are we going another lap?" I cross my hand firmly over my chest, waiting for his reply. Secretly hoping for a 'no'.
For the first time in a while, my dad looks at me with a sadly familiar look in his eyes – pity.
"It's your mother."
I step back and shake my head to be sure I heard him right. I laugh to myself before getting back to the comedic reply my dad just gave.
"My what?"
"It's your real mother. Maeve. Maeve O'Conner."
If this is a joke, it's not very funny.