Him coming back was all it took to turn her world upside down.
Harper Collins is perfectly content with where her life is at. Is it perfect? No. But she's content. Now a guidance counselor at her old elementary school, a volunteer safety officer...
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I KNOCK ON THE DOOR OF MY CHILDHOOD HOME then ring the doorbell, waiting patiently? for my mom to open it. Tonight, is our weekly family dinner with her, where me, Am, Matt, Elise and their twin daughters Addison and Avery, come over for a feast.
She doesn't answer and I begin tapping my finger on the doorbell viciously. Similar to how I would on our old Nintendo 64 control when we would play Mario Party.
The door flings open and she's standing before me, seething with her flowery apron on wiping her hands with it. Her red hair looks flawless and shiny as its draped over her right shoulder, as if she hadn't been working over a hot stove all day. Her makeup is to perfection and her wardrobe is as if she walked out of an Anne Taylor magazine.
Her piercing blue eyes do a head to toe examination and I fly my hands out in the air. "You just saw me like six hours ago. I still look the same."
"Mind your manners young lady." She says with that strict tone.
She opens the door all the way so I can step into the luxurious wallpapered house. I glance over to the left to see the dining room table already set with her fancy plates, silverware rolled up with napkins and weird pine cone looking things on the plates. The plush velvety red chairs call to me, but I walk behind her to the kitchen.
I head straight to the fridge, but she smacks it shut as soon as I open it. "No, you'll waste your appetite."
I give an exasperated sigh but she says nothing to me.
Crap, the silent treatment.
"Can I help with anything?"
She stops what she's doing and gives me a hard look. "Explain to me, what on earth were you thinking? He was a nice and very handsome young man. A perfect candidate and you... you..." She does that motherly thing where she pumps her hand up and down disapprovingly then slaps her leg. "were you."
I rip open the fridge and glare at her while doing so and grab a pop. I wish I was as beautiful as my mom. Matt inherited her bright blue eyes and creamy complexion, where as I got dad's dull dark brown eyes and plethora of freckles.
Me opening the can is the only sound in the quiet kitchen. "Sorry about that. Hard to believe that a mother wouldn't want her daughter to be herself."
She huffs, "You know what I mean Harper. He was excited to meet you and you ruined it."
I roll my eyes. "He was an accountant and so boring." I whine out. "He wasn't interested as soon as he saw me anyways. I clearly wasn't whatever image you concocted up in that cauldron of yours and fed to him or his mommy."
My mom is a huge, and I mean huge, romance fan and lives out this fantasy through my lackluster love life. She's such a romantic that she's a best-selling romance novelist. She didn't really push herself until my dad left. When he had abandoned us it took a toll on her and she had no idea what to do or how to provide for us. But she used the pain inflicted by him to become extremely successful.
