The Diary Of Lane

9- Coming Home.

The next morning, after a late lunch, we jumped into Amy’s car and she drove me home.

“Thank you for letting me come over Amy,” I said, when we were almost at my house.

“I’m glad you had fun!” she replied with a large grin.

"I did, I really did,” I smiled back.

“Well, this is your stop,” she said, once we pulled into my drive.

“Thanks again Amy, really,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt.

“It was my pleasure, and you’re free to come over to my house whenever you want,” she said, reaching over the center console and gave me a hug.

“I’ll see you Monday yeah?” I asked, grabbing my bag from the back and opening the door.

“Of course my dear, see you then,” she nodded.

I nodded back getting out of the car and closing the door.

Waving quickly at me, Amy shifted the car and backed out of the driveway.

I waved until her car was out of sight and then bound up the step to my house.

Pushing open the door I quickly kicked off my shoes and ran up to my bedroom. Throwing my bag in the door just barely, I turned around and headed back down stairs.

“Dad I’m home!” I yelled, stepping into the living room.

“I’m in the kitchen!” he yelled back.

Skipping with a smile on my face I head to our kitchen.

“Dad, you would not believe how much fun I- WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED IN HERE!?” I yelled stopping what I was saying as I witnessed the state of our kitchen.

My father stood in the middle of our kitchen pots all over the counter, something boiling over on the stove and, what I was hopping was flour all over himself and the floor.

“What did you do?” I asked in disbelief.

“I might have tried to cook,” he explained.

“Tried being the main word in that sentence,” I laughed, stepping into the kitchen fully.

“Yeah,” he muttered sheepishly.

“Well, okay. I’m sure we can fix whatever it is that this is before mum gets home,” I nodded to myself, pulling my hair into a high pony. “First you go shower, I’ll clean up the kitchen and find a less explosive meal for us to cook.”

He nodded heading for the door. “Thanks Lane, you’re the best,” he said, ruffling my hair as he passed.

“Oh, I know, and you so owe me,” I joked, turning off the oven.

He laughed as he headed towards the bathroom.

Taking a deep breath I started cleaning. By the time he was showered and redressed I had managed to clean up the kitchen and dishes and pull out all the ingredients we would need for Lemon Chicken. I was just cutting up carrots when my dad walked back in.

“Wow, kiddo you did an amazing job,” he complimented, coming to stand next to me.

“Thank you,” I replied throwing the carrots into a pot.

“Anything you trust me to help with?” he joked leaning against the counter.

“If you could cut the mushrooms, broccoli, onions, and potatoes and wash the baby tomatoes and I can start seasoning the chicken,” I said, setting down the knife and pushing all the vegetables towards him.