Touch of Hellfire

☕️6☕️

I helped Rory smooth out the shoulders on our snow-woman, while Mom worked on the face. "How does this look?" Mom asked us.

"Not very mouth-like," Rory told her. I took a quick glance at Mom's masterpiece. "Yeah, it's sort of tilted to the side."

"Well, I intended to do that, gives her a unique expression, it's either that or Mrs Potato Head lips," Mom told us.

"We're not gonna win anyway," Rory muttered cynically. "Look at that!"

She pointed over to a snowman that literally looked like it was sculpted by Michelangelo!

"It needs to be destroyed," I grumbled. "I hate it with every fibre of my being."

"Okay, while someone handcuffs Heather to the gazebo stairs, we work on our masterpiece," Mom joked.

I shot my mother the death stare. "So, both of you have a school break coming up, what do we do?" Mom asked us.

"Movies, relax, homework," Rory listed. I put the wig on our snow woman. "How come you have homework and I don't?" I wondered.

"Stuff for the paper," Rory sighed. "One word, it's a French city and a raging lunatic."

"Hmm, that's hard," I chuckled. "Give me a clue."

Rory laughed. "Sounds like ferris."

"Oh, Paris," I mumbled. "The machine."

"Oh, come on!" Rory complained. "They're power buffing it now!"

We looked over at it. "Can I destroy it, please?" I asked Mom. "In your dreams," she told me.

"We can do this," I said. "Absolutely," Rory smiled. The head suddenly fell off our snow-woman. "Coffee?" Rory asked us.

"Please!" I sighed.

***

Friday Night Dinner. Complete silence for some bizarre reason. Me and Rory shared the awkward glance every now and then.

Rory cleared her throat which thankfully prompted Mom to speak. "So, what are your travel plans, Dad?"

"Hmm?" Grandpa muttered, being obviously derailed from his train of thought. "You usually travel this time of year," Mom pointed out.

"Yeah, it was the Bahamas last year," I spoke up. "Yes, that's right, it was," Grandpa muttered. "You said the Bahamians were nice and that it was fun," Rory added. "Yes, they were nice," Grandma mumbled.

"So, what are your plans?" Mom repeated her question. "We aren't going anywhere this year," Grandma told us. "Oh..why not?" Rory asked her. Grandma just looked at Grandpa and didn't answer the question.

"Well it can be really nice to stay at home too, you can do fun things that you wouldn't have time for," I added. "Like charades," Mom piped up.

"We'll see," Grandpa murmured. "We'll see," Grandma mumbled. "Would you all excuse me? I have to make some calls, say goodbye before you leave, would you?" Grandpa said, getting up.

"Yeah, sure Dad," Mom answered him. Once he left, Mom turned to Grandma. "When is this awfulness with work gonna end?"

"I don't know, the man is so sensitive," Grandma told her. "He reads so much into every little perceived slight."

"Like that one time, ages ago, when he put on weight and bought a new suit to cover it up and asked us how he looked. I said fat," Mom muttered

Grandma just stared at her. "Okay, that was a poor example," Mom sighed.