It Started With a Scent

Ten Pipers Piping

Loud Christmas music woke Rachael up the next morning.

She gave a shout of annoyance and rolled out of bed, knowing that it would be impossible for her to go back to sleep. Really, she had hardly slept at all, putting it down to a combination of hormones from the new suppressants she was on, and the fact that she wasn't in her warm, comfortable bed back home.

She padded downstairs, grateful that her mother was one of those people who always had the heating cranked up to full temperature in the winter.

"-and a partridge in a pear tree." Her mother sang along to a CD, pausing to smile at her daughter as she entered the kitchen. "Sleep well?" She asked, cracking a few eggs into a bowl and whisking them around.

"Not really." Rachael admitted, knowing that her mother would smell the lie on her if she said yes.

"Why not?" Her mother asked, pouring the eggs into the same pan where bacon was sizzling away. The aroma filled the kitchen and Rachael's stomach rumbled even though she didn't really feel like eating.

"Just not used to being back in my old bed," she replied, taking a seat at the kitchen island.

For a couple of minutes, the only sound in the kitchen was the frying food, the popping and the hissing of bacon fat and scrambling of eggs. Rachael noticed a stuffed turkey sitting on the counter, waiting to be put in the oven, and the already grated cheese, prepared for the macaroni.

"Well, you'll get used to it again." Her mother finally said.

"What do you mean by that?"

"When you move back home, of course."

Rachael laid her cheek against the cold island counter, "Mum, I'm twenty five."

"So?"

Their conversation was interrupted by the entrance of her father.

"Merry Christmas!" He semi-yelled, strolling through the room. He made a beeline for the kettle, flipping the switch.

"It's already been boiled," her mum said, flicking the switch back to neutral position.

"Morning dad."

"Feeling better after yesterday?" He asked her, causing her mother to swivel around and face her with wide eyes.

"What happened yesterday?" The woman said, worried.

"Seems like she wasn't able to bond with anyone yet." He responded before Rachael could speak.

She groaned, covering her face with her hands.

"No one at all?"

"Mum. Dad. Please. It's Christmas, we can talk about this tomorrow."

Her mother sighed, but dropped the subject- taking breakfast out of the pan as it finished cooking.

The food was served up and they ate, staying away from uncomfortable topics. Rachael caught up on what had been happening around the pack while she was gone. 

Apparently, most of the friends that she'd grown up with had moved away, joining other packs as they found mates and got new jobs, or deciding to go lone wolf, travelling around the country or drifting out of contact. 

Rachael was slightly hurt that none of the girls had tried to get in touch with her in that time. She had tried to reach out to some of them, but was faced with so many answer machines, or incorrect-number messages that she had given up.  At least now she was comforted by the fact that she had some sort of closure to not seeing them around.