Basked in Red

Chapter 02: Cardinal

One precious memory I had with my family when I was younger was when we went out for ice cream and sat around Central Park.

It was summer. My Dad asked for a day off from his job. So that meant more family bonding trips around the city.

I suggested we sit outside under the warm sun. However, my twin sister, Rudy, downplayed the idea.

"It's too hot!" Rudy had protested.

I rolled my eyes. "That's the point!" I countered childishly. "Eating ice cream under the sun is part of the summertime criteria!"

"Who cares about what criteria you follow to enjoy summer!" Rudy stuck her tongue at me. "I say we stay inside the shop. It's cooler there!"

"You're so lame!" I stuck my tongue at her in retaliation. I turned to my Mom and pulled on her red cardigan.

"Mom, which one do you prefer?" I prompted the question impatiently to her. "Don't let summer be ruined because of Rudy!"

"Daddy!" Rudy pouted and called Dad. "Russ's idea is going to get us killed!"

"No, it won't!"

"Yes, it will! The sun's UV rays will totally kill us! We'll get sunburned! OR! We'll get skin cancer!"

"Rudy, that won't happen—!"

"WE'RE PALE, RUSS."

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO BE PALE TO GET SUNBURNT, RUDY!"

"Okay, okay," Mom chuckled, patting my head gently. "Let's not fight you two."

"Yes, you two," Dad smiled as he ruffled Rudy's head. "We wouldn't want your voices shattering every window in New York!"

Dad held his chin in thought.

"How about this," He proposed. "Let's sit under the shade instead!"

"That's a wonderful idea," Mom smiled earnestly. "That way, we'll still be outside and won't be too hot."

"And!" Dad added, biting off a bit of his popsicle. "The ice cream won't melt as fast! What do you say?"

Rudy and I exchanged looks and nodded in unison.

"Sounds fair," I gave in. Rudy shrugged.

Our parents laughed at our silent defeat.

We ended up sitting on one bench together under the trees. Rudy and I were squished between our parents.

Mom kept a watch on Rudy and me.

People would joke about my Mom being a real mother wolf.

Her defensiveness was the equivalent of a mother wolf baring her fangs in the face of danger yet, still being gentle when holding her cubs in her mouth.

She had unusually sharp canines. Nobody notices them until they see her laugh.

She was a good-natured woman. However, her sharp teeth were a reminder that despite her smile, she was protective.

So as she watched, she kept a close eye on our behavior.

My Dad, however, was more of the airhead side. As creative as the man is, he'd lose his head if it weren't attached to his neck.

He'd constantly mistaken his paintbrush-rinse cup for his tea, forgetting to separate the white clothing from the colors', and cried when he learned pigeons don't categorize as a typical family pet.

Well, the pet pigeon would've been a reality if it weren't for Mom threatening to eat it if we let it near our humble abode.

For now, Dad watches the birds from a distance.