Gray Days

Chapter 9: Another Colorful Day

9

Zoey.

Once for Christmas, my parents got me a human-size teddy bear which came with the name of Ted. I would put it beside me in bed and sleep with it every single night and sometimes, use it as an alternative for a pillow, even for the bed. Ted was a great bear. I would leave him in my room when I went to school and when I came back, he's there where I left him. Now as the alarm wakes me up, the first thing I open my eyes to is Ted, sitting quietly in a corner, eyes popped open as if they never closed, which they haven't.

He's looking at me like I'm still the little girl that would hug him every night and hug him harder when I get nightmares—which I'm not anymore, and I feel bad. He's always been there to help me get through the night and I can't believe I made him sit in a corner. He doesn't belong in there. He belongs in my bed, beside me. I wipe the dust off Ted's furry head and once I carry him back to bed, I kiss his cheek and smile, and in the little girl voice I always talk to him with, I say, "Happy Holidays, Teddy."

"Looks like someone is in a good mood today." Jesse leans on my doorway, smiling, and I smile at him back.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, lil sis. Morning, Ted." He looks around my room for a while before he gazes back to me and pulls something out of his pocket. "I got you something." Jesse hands me a little blue, ribboned box. "But you can't open it until your birthday."

Taking the box, I frown at him. "I thought this was my Christmas present."

"Your presents are downstairs."

And like a little girl I once was, my face lights up because I have not just one but multiple presents. Seeing me like this, Jesse smiles widely, delighted and satisfied of my reaction. I hug him like a sister hugs his big brother, and he pats me like a boy patting a dog, an annoying thing he's been doing since we were little. And for once, I'm not annoyed.

By the time I go down, I look at the huge tree in our living room for the first time since Mom and Dad set it up weeks ago. Several boxes ranging from small to large pile up under the tree, and I can't help but guess which are mine and wonder if all these other boxes are empty and if Mom and Dad only put them there for decorations. In the kitchen, Mom is preparing breakfast and I walk up to her like the other good days and kiss her on the cheek.

"Is this because we're having strawberry waffles?" she asks, smiling at me.

Crossing my eyebrows, I say, "I had waffles yesterday, Mom."

And before I realize what is happening, Mom fills a plate with freshly-cooked, strawberry waffles and hands it to me, putting in some bacon on the plate. "The syrup's on the table," she says and moves on to making more.

"Thanks, Mom." I kiss her cheek again and she smiles sweetly. Sitting across her working space, I watch as she shuffles from cooking waffles and frying bacon.

Jesse comes into the kitchen a minute later, and on seeing what Mom is cooking, he says, "For lunch we're going to have apple pie. Can we, Mom? I miss your pie." He fills his plate with waffles and bacons, and sits across me before he continues. "It's not fair Zoey can have her favorite for breakfast. I should have mine too for lunch."

"Grow up, Jesse. You have a beard!" I laugh and points across to his facial hair that almost fills half of his face. "When did you last shave?"

I'm not the only one that's bothered with him looking like a Chewbacca, Mom is even sickened with it. All his breakfast time is occupied with Mom's nagging for maintaining proper facial hygiene, and every time he looks up, he glares at me as if it's my fault. He didn't shave his face. Whose fault is that? In the end, after breakfast, Mom makes him shave his face or else he wouldn't have his beloved apple pie for lunch.