All this Time

Nathan

12th January

Saturday rolls around and I'm out of bed at seven. The fire still has embers burning from the night before, keeping the living area warm.

I throw another couple of logs on and open the curtains to the sun starting to rise. It snowed over night and I groan, hoping it melts soon so it's not a pain in the ass moving Gabs and Lydia in.

I spent the rest of the week after we had dinner at Matt's, getting Dallas' bedroom organised. Not before asking her what I should do with all of her shit first. She told me to box it up and shove it in the garage until she could come and go through it.

That initiated a bit of back and forth between us. I was adamant she should've sorted it ages ago and she was adamant she'd been telling me to clear out the room for ages. We didn't resolve the argument but I stand by the fact that it's her shit and she should've decided what to do with it after she moved to California.

We both knew she would never move back. Not for a damn thing.

There wasn't a lot of room in the garage, but I made it fit. While I was cleaning out her closet, I kept hoping to find a diary or something I could laugh at, not that I would read it, but I would send her photos and let her think I did.

However, my sister didn't appear to keep one. It wasn't a surprise. She wasn't big on book work, hated her homework, barely sat still long enough to write out her assignments. Not unless she was watching dance competitions or the football.

I'm at the breakfast bar eating a bowl of scrambled eggs when I look at the date. In the quiet of the house, I pull up Drayton's contact and hit speaker before dropping my phone on the countertop.

He answers faster than I expect considering it's his birthday and it's also—

"Eight in the morning? Cunt, what the fuck?"

I'd considered that he's an hour behind and decided to call anyway.

"You're an athlete. You should've been out of bed hours ago."

"Get fucked. I was in the gym at five, back to bed at seven. That's how I make sure I'm pumped for whatever morning activities roll over and say good morning to me."

I sigh. "How's it going? Happy birthday."

It sounds like he's shifting in bed. "Thanks, man. You getting a call in before I can spend the day having birthday se—"

"What else are you doing?" I interrupt before he can tell me things I don't need to know. He does it to wind me up, everything he does is to wind someone up.

"Fuck knows," he says. "Dallas has something planned for us."

"Is she there?"

He makes a sound of offence in the back of his throat. "I thought you called to talk to me."

"I said what I called to say."

He loudly laughs and I shovel a forkful of eggs into my mouth. "Yeah hang on, Dallas is right here. She wants to talk about something."

Quickly swallowing, I wish him another happy birthday and then Dallas takes the line, her voice tired and deep, like it is when she's half asleep.

"Morning," she says.

"How's it going?"

"Good good. Gabby's moving in today, right?"

Getting up off the stool, I take my bowl over to the sink and flick the tap on. "Yeah. I cleaned out the bedroom and got it sorted. Garage is fucking full now."