When It Rains

Chapter Nine - Spatchcocked

Elody is already in the vehicle when I get into the SUV.

"That was a kind thing for you to do for Aliah and Jezzie," I say.

"I like to be nice when I can, which isn't often."

"What are you talking about? You're one of the most caring people I know."

Elody shrinks down in her seat.

"You can say that because you're my sister."

"I'm saying it because it's true."

"Where do you think Mom was?" asks Elody.

I peer out the window, watching the brick buildings whiz by in the dimming late afternoon light.

"Don't know. I'm sure she has a good reason."

"I don't think she wants to be here any longer."

I snap my neck around so quickly I hear it crack.

"What?" I ask my youngest sister.

"She always looks tired and never has time for us anymore."

"Mom has been tired since she was born."

"Since we were born, more like it," Elody says softly. "I feel like we're a burden."

"Come on," I grab her little hand and hold it in mine. "That's not true."

Elody gives me a thin smile.

"Anyway, did Aliah say anything about me?" I ask.

"No. Why?"

"Just thought she might mention me, that's all."

"Because you used to know each other?"

"Yeah. Basically."

"She did say Criane looked beautiful."

"Oh."

Suddenly, my dress feels tighter than it has felt all day. I think it's actually shrinking while I'm still wearing it. Thankfully, I'll be home in a couple of minutes.

As the vehicle slows in front of the house, I see another SUV parked near the door. It's not Mom's usual ride so Aliah and Jezzie must be here. I wonder if I should go and greet them? Brooks will know what to do.

Half falling out of the SUV, I hitch up my skirt and walk inside. Brooks isn't at the door. He typically welcomes any member of the family into the home.

Elody goes straight up to her room to change but I have to look for Mom. It'd be much easier if Brooks was around to tell me where she is. She's not in her office nor is she in the living room. I catch the scent of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. It is almost suppertime. I'd better see what the chef is preparing for this evening's meal.

"What's for..."

Mom is the chef. She's hunched over the counter reading a cookbook. She's dressed in her GlobalGov uniform but wrapped around it, is a white apron. Well, it was white. It now has streaks of red, yellow and brown on the front.

"What do we have here?" I say, walking up to her. "You haven't been in the kitchen for years."

Mom shakes her head slowly.

"Give me a sec," she says. "I'm trying to figure this out. I don't know if I should have spatchcocked the chickens before I put them in the oven?"

"Spatchcock?"

Mom scratches her head with a long crimson fingernail, her hazel eyes fixed on the recipe.

"Yeah, spatchcock," she mutters. "It means splitting the chicken by taking out the backbone so you can flatten the meat."