The Unhappy Heart (Book 1 of The Wolfheart Trilogy)

2. The Phone Call

Andrea pulled herself out of bed. She had spent the night in an uneasy sleep, waking frequently in the early hours of the morning. But now the sun was climbing high and Andrea knew there was nothing for it, but to get up and start her day. After having a quick shower, she dragged herself wearily down the stairs. 

Her nine year old cousin, Mason, was stretched out on the couch watching TV and her aunt was bustling around the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Andrea shoved Mason to one side and plunked herself down. He scowled at her and quickly put out his feet, his heels digging sharply into her thigh. Sending him a seething glare, she shoved them off the couch. Getting out a reaction out of his cousin, was a game Mason liked to play, so with a taunting smirk, he prodded her with his toe.

"Cut it out, you little brat," she hissed angrily. 

Mason merely poked a tongue at her and put both feet on her lap.

"I was here first," he retorted, a smug smile crossing his chubby face that still held evidence that he had been into the jam again.

"What are you arguing about?" asked Eleanor, entering the room with a frown. 

Andrea scowled in annoyance, sure that her aunt would be on Mason's side.

"He won't let me sit on the couch."

"She didn't say excuse me," protested her cousin, looking suddenly angelic as he straightened himself. "She just pushed me out of the way."

Eleanor sighed. "Well, don't put your feet on the couch, Mason dear. And Andrea, how about you come and help me in the kitchen."

 Andrea got up with a huff of an annoyance and saw out of the corner of her eyes, that Mason was smirking.

She glared at him. "Little jerk."

"Now, now, Andrea," reproached Eleanor disapprovingly. "That's not very mature or lady-like."

She gently led Andrea to the kitchen and gave her the cutlery. As Andrea moved to the table, the phone rang and Eleanor hurried to pick it up. Andrea begin placing the knives and forks down, humming as she did so. She had nearly finished when she heard her name mentioned. Her head shot up and she turned slightly so she could better hear the conversation.

"No, I'm not telling her. She's just here. You can tell her yourself.... No, don't even try that excuse on me.... Okay, I'll get her." Eleanor lowered the phone and turned to face Andrea. "It's your mother, dear. She wants to speak to you." 

Filled with a bitter dread at the look of pity in her aunt's eyes, Andrea moved slowly to the phone. Eleanor handed it to her, and her trembling hands took it.

"Hello," she said in a low voice.

"Oh, Andrea sweetheart," came her mother's voice. "How have you been?"

"Okay, I guess."

"I'm really sorry to disappoint you, darling, but your father and I can't make it to your birthday. Something important has come up. You understand, don't you, dear?" 

Andrea was silent as she bowed her head, gripping the phone tightly. Her throat ached as she suppressed her tears. The disappointment threatened to overwhelm her. But somewhere deep inside, there was a hint of resignation as if she had suspected this the whole time.

 "Andrea? Are you still there?" Her mother's voice sounded a little irritated. No doubt she had expected Andrea to readily accept her decision. 

A wave of anger swept over Andrea and she suddenly found she couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Yeah, I'm here. And I get it. You are too busy like you always are. You just can't be bothered with me, can you? Why did you even bother promising to come? You were never really planning to anyway, were you?"