When You Least Expect It

5

Chapter 5

There are only three things that truly mattered to me in life: painting, Dad and food.

A couple days later, I strolled into the kitchen to find Miles standing at the counter. He crouched beside the oven, wearing a flowered apron and humming one of his stupid songs.

The only reason why he knew how to cook was because his ex-girlfriend had taught him. To this very day, I still had no idea why they broke up. I had a soft spot for her since she used to cook for us regularly, and after all, food is the way to my heart.

"Smells uhmazing. What're you cooking?" I walked over the fridge and inspected it.

There were still pictures of Mom hanging from some magnets. I wondered why they weren't taken down by Dad yet. I swallowed the lump in my throat and looked away. I kept telling myself that it was for the greater good, but sometimes seeing Dad mope around the house hurt me more than it should.

Miles removed his apron. "Chicken parmesan casserole."

"You haven't made that in a while. What's the occasion?"

"Dad is trying to be the good guy and cook for the new neighbors."

"New neighbors? I didn't see any moving trucks."

Miles rolled his blue eyes, "They've moved into a house two streets away from us, but somehow that still counts as our neighbors."

"Did you see what they look like?" I bet it's an old couple. Add that to the growing list of old people in this town.

"Oh yeah, and they don't have a hot daughter." He sighed dramatically like that ruined his entire day.

"They have a son around your age," said Dad as he stepped into the kitchen. "Smells good, Miles." 

"A son?" Miles peered at me suspiciously.

"Yeah, we met him last week," Dad told him. "You remember him, Max? He came into our store. I can't for the life of me remember his name." He put his hands on his hips and squinted down at the floor as if that was going to help him remember.

My heart leaped to my throat, "Carson?"

Dad made a snapping motion with his fingers. "That's the one! He just moved in with his family. I told ya, it's probably all the gas he had to pay coming back and forth everyday. Family must've thought 'might as well move here'."

"They made a big mistake," I muttered. My head was spinning at the news. Why on Earth would Carson move here of all places?

Miles reached for his leather jacket, which he had left on the counter, and threw it on. "Who gives a shit? I'm going to Finn's house. We're working on a new song."

"Who's going to look after the casserole?"

Miles ruffled my hair, "You are." He walked out the backdoor before I could protest.

"Listen, kiddo, when it's done, I want you to take a plate to Carson's house. I would do it myself, but I need to make an important call." "Me?" I whined. I didn't want to see Carson.

"Yeah, I don't see why not."

I sighed and looked down at my clothes. I was dressed in a green turtleneck and jeans that were splattered with paint. "Fine."