stevie hopkin
-  march 22, 2018 -

I TURNED TO CHELSEA WITH a faltering smile. I tried not to cringe when a screech of a saxophone blasted above all the other noise coming from the house, "Let me just apologize now for what's about to come. And just remember you can always choose to go home."

            "Stop," her hand rested on my forearm, "everything is going to be fine. I'm not going anywhere."

            I turned to face the front door and took in a breath, trying to convince myself to actually open it. A scream echoed from the inside followed closely by a crashing noise and an eruption of laughter, "Damion! Christopher! I'm going to kill you!"

            Wincing, I opened the door and listened to the familiar creak.

            "Mom?" I called out.

            Laughter and chatter seemed to waft from every nook and cranny of the farm house. A tea kettle whistled from the kitchen, music pounded from somewhere to my left and an argument was taking place somewhere upstairs.

            Chelsea stepped up beside me. A large smile formed on her lips, "Is it always like this? It's so loud."

            Immediately, my stomach dropped, "Oh, yeah. I'm sorry. It's kind of hard to get used to."

            "No," she bounced on her toes, "it's amazing. I love it."

            Monica, my fifteen-year-old sister, whizzed past on her skateboard. She barely glanced our way before slamming her foot down and coming to an abrupt stop, "Stevie!"

            She squealed and leapt into my arms. I almost dropped the crazy kid, but I stumbled back and Chelsea's hand pressed against my back to help me keep my balance. If only Chelsea knew what she was getting into when she agreed to drive me home for spring break yesterday. I should have given her a better warning.

            A pair of heads popped over the tops of the stair railing, their eyes as wide as their smiles on their faces. They yelled down the hall before crashing down the steps with their identical grins and happy laughter. The two of them piled in on the hug Monica was giving me.

            The upstairs bathroom opened and a beautiful blonde girl stepped out in a cropped shirt and pajama shorts. A belly ring caught the light and winked at us. Her hair fell well past her waist and when she turned to look, she smiled; with all her teeth perfectly straight and sparkling white.

            I waved the best I could through all the arms wrapped around me. Kids raced from what seemed every corner of the house. I couldn't hear a single voice over the other. It was just one big jumbled mess of sentences. My head spun as I turned from person to person, trying to understand each of them.

            People always wanted a large family until they were part of one.

            "Hey," a voice boomed above all the rest and everyone quieted in an instant, "give her some breathing room, will you?" The oldest of us all, Xavier, moved through the sea of kids with a smile plastered to his lips. He had this chiseled face and slow burning smile that all women dreamed of a man having. His bright eyes fought to hide behind a pair of circular glasses, but they stood out against his dark skin.

            "Come on," he gestured with his head, "I just took off the pot." His voice dripped with an accent from his time studying at Cambridge. He'd been home almost a year by then, but it still stuck to his tongue.

            I mouthed a thank you and Xavier winked at me. Chelsea and I followed him passed the stairs and down the hallway, into the kitchen hiding in the very back of the house.

            We came around the corner to find Joel with his head full of red curls sitting bent over a canvas he was painting on. Oil paint covered his fingertips as he dragged them across the unfinished picture. He didn't even take the time to look up when we entered.

            Another blare of a saxophone screeched through the house and we all cringed, "We're trying to be positive," Xavier told us with a tired expression, "but I do hope Noel gets that note down soon or I'm burying that bloody thing in the garden."

            Warm laughter came from behind us and I instantly jumped around. I would know that laugh anywhere, "Xavier, honey—"

            "Mom!" I flung myself at her rather ungracefully, tripping on the boot that kept me from making my foot worse. Her silver curls were in a low ponytail at the base of her neck. Rectangle glasses rested on the top of her head.

            She wrapped her arms around me tight, "It's so good to see you, Sweetie."

            I felt myself melt in her arms. I'd missed this more than I realized. All the noise and the warm smiles. Plus, the hugs. My mom gave the best hugs known to the entire human race. My life at school was far too quiet and peaceful.

            I guess it's true what they say; you really don't know what you have until it's gone.

            She squeezed me one more time and then held me at arm's length, taking in my entire appearance. Her eyes lingered on my boot for only a moment before they snapped back to my face. I flinched waiting for her reaction, but her gaze moved behind me.

            "Stevie, where are your manners?" She asked, her hand fiddling with her hair.

            "What?" I turned around and started coughing. I'd completely forgotten about Chelsea. She was rubbing the tips of her shoes together. I almost wanted to slap my own forehead.

            "Mom, this is Chelsea. Chelsea, this is my mom, Lisa."

            Chelsea instantly grabbed my mom's hand and shook it vigorously, "It's really nice to meet you, Mrs. Hopkins."

            My mom laughed, patting Chelsea's hand. I think she was trying to help her calm down the way she did with so many other people, "Please, you can call me Lisa everyone does. I'm sorry Justin isn't here to meet you, but my husband is a very busy bee most of the time."

            "I'm sure, he'll be here around dinner and we can have proper introductions then."

            Chelsea's eyes lit up in seconds, "Would you like us to help you with dinner, Lisa? We'd love to help you!"

            Everyone laughed, including me. She turned to me and gave me a look. That look. The 'it's-the-polite-thing-to-do' look. One my mom has long since perfected. How did one say not to a look such as that?

            I cleared my throat, but my voice squeaked, "Yeah. Why don't we help you, Mom?"

            "You're going to help cook?" Joel looked up from his painting for the first time since we entered the kitchen.

            "Yeah, I am." I sent him a pointed look, "Do you have a problem with that?"

            Oliver, a tall blonde boy smiled. His teeth were crooked and he had a pimple by his eyebrow, "No, but I think we'd all prefer to live through this meal."

            They all laughed, including Chelsea. However, she hid her laugh behind her hand. I still saw her shoulders shake.

            "I'm not that bad. I've been practicing, okay." I rolled my eyes. I'd been out of the house nearly three years and they were still making fun of me, "And for that comment, you get to try it first. This way, when I poison it, you get the first bite."

            He held his hands up in surrender, "Hold back on the cavalry next time. I understand you want to impress you lady, but damn."

            My face lit up like a Christmas tree. As if someone had hung red twinkle lights all over my body. Even the tips of my ears turned red. Oliver started to laugh. He knew he'd won this round, but I'd be damned if he was going to win the next. If he wanted war that's what I would give him.