🐞MTOABB🐞

"Can you go brush your teeth again - that garlic bread you had this morning isn't helping with your smell," I tell her.

"Whatever, Rossita." Chloe saunters out of my room.

Dad is about to ring the doorbell any second now and mom has been in the kitchen for a few hours trying to cook up a worthy dish.

Chloe said not to hold my breath, he will always disappoint. Maybe I'm overly trusting. I fear that if I don't put in an effort from my side, he will turn into a stranger- I never want to feel like that when standing in front of my father.

I'm a pisces - but I don't check every box.

I am very judgemental, so when Cassandra kissed Zack I had a lot to say about it. Chloe would never call me a generous being, so maybe that's another box I can't tick. Zack wouldn't dare call me loyal, but he wasn't either so maybe that was a relationship already heading for the rocks.

But I'm a pisces - I care too much and I always express how I feel. And just as I am open with him, I want him to be as comfortable to speak his mind around me. This is Gomes we're talking about, it's like peeling an onion layer at a painfully slow pace.

"Girls! Your father will be here any minute so start getting the table ready," mom calls out from the kitchen.

"Is it not still meant to be my birthday?" Chloe questions and I was already waiting on mom to...

"What have I told you about screaming."

Oh mom, it will never get old how easy it is to read her - she's an open book.

I leave Chloe upstairs as I make my way down the stairs.

"The table in the dining room or the one in the backyard?" I let my butt feel the coldness of the stool as I sit.

"The one outside." She grabs four plates from the cupboard and places it on the counter in front of me. I grab them and start making my way outside.

"Don't forget the tablecloth."

"Which colour one?"

"The champagne one."

I open the cupboard that is situated in the hallway leading to the back door, and I want to staple my mouth shut as to muffle my incoming screams. Three champagne coloured tablecloths greet me in anticipation as I grab to inspect them. One with lace, one without and the other with embroidery.

"Should I take the one without lace?" I ask her.

"Use the one with lace." I pull it out and place the other two back. "No, rather take the one that is embroidered." I heave a silent sigh as I wait for a few seconds, just in case she changes her mind again.

~~

"Chloe, go and open the front door please," mom says as the doorbell rings. She grabs the chicken fillets and dishes them on a white plain ceramic plate.

"Dad, hi," she says and I walk to where she is standing. I'm met with four pairs of eyes.

"I didn't know you were coming," I say as I spot Brody standing anxiously next to dad.

He decides to remain quiet as they both walk inside.

"The food is ready," she says as she grabs the last plate of food and moves towards the backdoor. We all follow suit with barely any conversations exchanged. Chloe hasn't spoken to Brody and he hasn't gestured into talking to her either.

"So dad, how is New York?" I ask once everyone has begun munching on their food.

"It's good. Little Bailey has definitely been keeping me busy, am I right Brody?" He raises his head to look at Brody who is seated right across from him. Brody grunts affirmatively as he reaches for the basket of freshly baked bread that is placed in the middle of the table. My mom makes the best bread in the world - that's me comparing it to no other baker of course. It was forbidden to eat any other bread, dad said it was so we don't hurt mom's feelings if we happen to stumble upon a loaf of bread that we liked more than mom's.

"What's the story behind you naming the cafe 'Little Bailey' again." I take a sip of my freshly squeezed orange juice.

"Seriously, Rossita. You've heard this story more than once." Chloe rolls her eyes as she rivets her focus to her hands - she tears a piece of bread and brings it to her mouth.

"Let your sister be," mom chimes in. She hasn't said much since dad's arrival.

"Whatever," Chloe mumbles.

It's true that I've heard this story more than once. But whenever dad starts talking about how Little Bailey came about, his face lights up and that's a view worth seeing if it means that I have to listen to the same story a million times over.

"Your sister, Chloe was meant to be Bailey but your grandma Sue would not have it. It was a constant warzone when the picking of names was brought up-"

"That's because at that time, we were living by your dad's parents' house because he had lost his job," mom says, breaking him off.

"Rebecca."

"What?" She stares at him tentatively, taking her last bite of the blueberry scone.

"That was not needed."

Mom grunts. She stands up from her seat, still holding dad's stare. "Excuse me," she says and turns to leave.

I wasn't used to this - a full house. I didn't even know how to react.

"Why do you bother coming at all?" I turn to see Chloe crossing her arms in annoyance. Should I also pretend to be angry?

"What is that supposed to mean?" Chloe rolls her eyes as she stands to leave -- dad's question still very much in the air.

"I'll go check if she's okay," Brody speaks up.

"Don't. Let her be." Brody relaxes into his seat and turns to look at me.

It was his attempt of trying to go and talk to Chloe. No one else in the family knows of their relationship but me.

"Let him go, dad," I tell him, and once his head bobs up and down, Brody takes that as his affirmation.

"How about you and I go get ice-cream," dad says after a few bites of his bacon.

"I would love that. But I first need to get all these plates back in the kitchen."

"Your mom and sister will do that."

"Oh dad, that's not how things work here - the roster has it that I do the dishes this week. There is no other way around it." I chuckle as I begin stacking up the round plates on top of each other.

He hasn't been here long enough to know how things work around here so we'll forgive him.