When Elena goes to London for a week to visit her Mum she can't help but miss her loving Dad. My first story, PG-13 for swearing
I slid my had along the glistening red of the car before turning back to face my mother ,
“It's too much , I don't need a car , I can just walk.” My mother shook her had walking over to me , her high heels crunching awkwardly on the gravel.
“You'd think you would get used to receiving gifts , I’m just trying to make up for lost time. I hate that I only see you once , maybe twice a year.”She lent on the car next to me , careful not to crease her pristine suit.
“You know I don't care about material objects, and it's not my fault you only see me twice a year at the most.”
“Don't start on me over that El ,you understand why I have to live here.” I hated the way she acted like she had no choice
“I understand why you live here , but I don't understand why you have to ,there are plenty of jobs back in the states.”Ever since my mum had divorced my dad I had never been able to understand her sudden obsession with working all the way in London.
“What so I'm supposed to stay in the states forever and never pursue my dreams?” Stubborn to the bone , so much like me.
“For fuck sake Mum , you do this every time I come to see you and you just don't listen!”I stormed back into the house , my converse squeaking on the marble floor and I jogged up the stairs ,two at a time.
I pushed open my bedroom door , slamming it behind me before jumping onto my bed and turning on my stereo ,Black Veil Bride's Perfect Weapon echoed through the house. I knew listening to my music this loud would piss off my mum , she hated rock music despite her love for it before she met my dad. Dad , I'd only been here a few hours and I already missed him , I couldn't last the rest of the week. I made a mental note to Skype with him later at a time appropriate for him. I spent the remainder of the day in my room ,avoiding mum and setting up my posters and putting my clothes away. Despite my mum living alone my room wasn't decorated for me, the walls a boring beige and the cold wooden floor a pine wood, who else did she expect to sleep here?
After ploughing my way through the only albums I had brought with me and doing all I could in my room , the absence of my guitar ,Leila ,was annoying. I wouldn't have minded being able to strum out a few angry chords and work on the song I was currently , and unsuccessfully writing. I didn't really have much of a knack for lyrics like my dad. I remembered back to when I was about 6 sitting with Uncle Frank and watching awestruck as he played the most beautiful song on his guitar, begging him to teach me and being disappointed when I couldn't play like him. He merely laughed at me but I was a determined and stubborn child and eventually learnt how to play. I heard mum calling my name and assumed it was probably time for dinner , I checked the clock on my bedside , sure enough it was already quarter to six. With that realisation my stomach rumbled and I was suddenly starving.
I emerged from my room like a cautious meerkat , keeping my head high and smelling the air, bacon , cheese and mushrooms. Mum had made my favourite and I couldn't resist a plateful. It didn't mean I'd forgiven her. Its not like I was mad at the food.
I tiptoed down the marble steps into the big entrance hall ,following my nose through the lounge I peeked my head around the corner. Mum was standing at the hob mixing a pot obviously filled with the thick creamy carbornara. Dad had always said it was my Italian blood..I sat down at the table where mum had already set a place for me and her.
She placed a huge bowl in front of me before joining me with a moderately smaller portion, We ate in silence , listening to the gentle ticking of the grandfather clock in the lounge. Her bowl was empty well before mine and she watched me patiently as I shovelled the pasta , aiming for my mouth but missing. “You're very lady like aren't you?” Mum teased taking my plate and handing me some kitchen roll to clean up the mess I'd made, I stuck my tongue out at her before wiping bacon off my grey jeans.
Me and mum always argued it was simply because we were very alike, not in the way we thought but in out attitude to things. But once we both cooled off we got on very well and mum loved hearing my stories of what I'd been doing since she last saw me. We obviously skyped and talked on the phone but it just wasn't the same as seeing her in person, I began to realise just how much I missed her.
We sat around watching TV , doctor who reruns (with the very drool worthy David Tennant as the doctor) and Sherlock. I told her all about school and my friends while she listened and seemed honestly interested. I glanced up at the grandfather clock “oh shit!” I exclaimed before scrambling from the couch and heading towards the hall
“What is it “mum called after me
“I need to Skype dad!”
She excepted the reply and returned to reichenbatch fall.
I closed the door to my room more gently than I had before and headed towards my desk where my laptop was already out. I quickly logged in remembering I'd told dad I'd Skype with him at 9pm (GMT) and it was almost ten. Luckily he was still online,obviously realising I was probably spending time with mum.
I clicked the call button and A smile spread across my face as I saw dad's familiar head full of black messy hair and hazel eyes.
“And what time do you call this?” he asked checking his wrist for a watch that wasn't there.