Is This What You Call A Family?

Chapter 2

A few weeks past. Leighla worked hard to provide for her family. Eighteen hour days slaving away at her salon that she ran took it's tole on the thirty two year old woman, but she didn't let it stop her. She worked so, so hard to get where she was going now, and wasn't going to let a little fatigue stop her.

Eighteen hour days spent doing hair, makeup, beauty treatments, nails, tanning, facials and massages took it's tole, especially when she spent a few hours every night doing finances and everything involving money, and working out a schedule of when she should do things and when for the next clients for the day. Leighla did all the work by herself. She couldn't risk hiriing another person and the money she recieved being halfed. She wanted to live comfortably with her kids, and raising four children was extremely expensive, so she needed all the money she could get.

As she spent on average twenty hours a day in the salon, due to tourist levels being up because of the summer, she relied heavily on the children to keep the house afloat and not to let it get too dirty. Leighla was thankful the school they went to accepted all ages and didn't let them leave from aged five to eighteen, so they finished at the same time, so they walked each other home and did some housework, before they were free to do whatever they wanted until their mother came home. A neat trick she'd learned in the busier times of the year was to make a ton of food on Sundays, the only day she was allowed to take off, or open for half a day at most, and let the children take some of it for every meal. So, the single mother didn't have to worry about the children going hungry when she was away.

Due to a cancellation she'd received, and nobody coming in to grab that space, she was allowed to take about thirty minutes off to go the bakery and finally get something to eat, Leighla (http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=219727732) was thankful to finally get some time off to eat and have some coffee.

When she was sitting down to eat her two warm croissants with a hot latee, the woman was stunned and a silent scream left her throat as a tall , dark brown haired man came over towards her, holding two boys' hands.

"Leighla? Is that you?" With her silent scream still stuck in her throat, with wide eyes, which probably wasn't the subtle-ist thing to do in this moment in time, she scanned the man, easily recognising him. Instead of long black hair, he now had short dark brown hair, the same facial structure, a light brown dusting of facial hair, sunglasses, a black tank top with a company's name on that she'd never heard of, but had an inkling she remembered it, basketball shorts on, sneakers, and the two boys, which had to be his sons, had the same face as him. She knew exactly who this man was. It was Nick Morrill, otherwise known as Marek Brave. The father of her childrens long time best friend.

"U-umm, À qui parle ce Leighla, ce n'est pas mon nom, monsieur. Mon nom n'est pas important" She was going to say a fake name, but then realised he'd probably see straight through her.

He looked confused as he probably didn't understand her, as she spoke in her third language, but seemed to know what she was trying to say.

"It is you, isn't it?"

"Je le répète, monsieur, je ne vous connais pas, et je ne sais pas de qui vous parlez" she spoke quickly, heart racing, hands trembling. This couldn't be happening.

"Mhm. Sure. No idea what you just said there, but i know for a fact it's you. I'll see you later, Leigh." He smirked, before leaving with the little boys. Leighla bit down her scream of frustration, as he could always see through her lies, even when they were the closest of friends. And apparently, he could do that even now.

'I'm so screwed' Leighla thought, thoughts of her, Nick and Colby flooding her mind, just like they did fifteen years ago.

When she got home that night, exhausted, the dragged herself to the kitchen (https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/c5/d4/50/c5d4501d64e183b447dbc7df88633343.jpg) and collapsed onto the small three seater table and chair set that was connected to the wall, cathing her breath and collecting her thoughts, before reluctantly dragging herself over to the stove and gulping town some cold soup, too tired to heat it up.

Slowly, she made an egg, cheese and spinach omlette and put it in the slow cooker, so it would be hot for when the children woke up the next morning. Then, she made a few aubergine rolls with spiniach and ricotta, along with the butter beans she'd leaned how to make as a child growing up all over Europe.

 "Hey mom." She heard her eldest son say. Squealing, Leighla jumped and turned around, seeing Aiden in his plaid sleeping pants and a black wife beater.

"Baby, you scared me."

"Sorry," He chuckled. "Would it be okay if, in the fall, if i took Eli and the twins to the WWE show in Paris?"

"Paris? Honey, that's a four hour drive. We don't even have a car. Your aunt is using it, and she will be doing so until next month. You can't drive."

"I know, but a buddy of mine is going. He has the space. Come on, we've all seen how hard you're working at the moment to provide for us, you deserve a night where you don't have to be a mom, just be, you."

"I'll think about it. What about the ticket prices? They aren't cheap. We don't have the money."

 "I'll take up more shifts teaching the young'ns. Ana and Tal're gonna tutor more, and Eli's gonna help me. Please, mom?"

"I'll answer when you show me in writing that you got a life there and back and when you show me the money for the tickets."

"Ugh, why do you have to be such a-mom?" They chuckled.

"Because i am a mom. If you have kids one day, you'll get it. Besides, you're my world, i went through a lot to have you with me."

"Yeah, about that?" Leighla raised an eyebrow, fatigue forgotten.

"What?"

"I heard you, a few nights ago, talkin' to grandpa. You were mentioning a guy named Colby. Who is he?"

Ah. You don't remember him. Great? Or, oh f*ck, what do i say now? Leighla asked herself in her head, before shaking it.

"Nobody you need to worry about. I'll tell you about him when the time is right."

"When the time is right? Mom, what does that mean?"

"You'll know when your older and when you can wrap your head around it."

"Okay, i have no idea what you're talkin' about and i don't wanna know. But, think about the Paris thing, okay?" 

"I will."

"Night, mom."

"Night, honey."

Now what do i do?