Vintage Memories

Chapter Twenty-Five "Hellbound"

Dear readers,

            This year has certainly been one for the record books (personally and not so) and not for good reasons. I'd say that one of the top two major highlights of my 2020 was sharing my work with all of you, and having it being received so well (and I only say top two because I turned 21 back in January, so, you know, alcohol). This will probably be my last update of 2020, (I am revising a few of the older chapters if you all haven't noticed) so I wish you all a Happy Holiday's and a Happy New Year! It seemed appropriate that I close out 2020 with one of the saddest chapters in my story. Haha! Enjoy!

         Lots of love and well wishes!

        ~ Your friendly neighborhood sinner (Nessa)

The steady rhythm of a knife clashing against a wooden cutting board resonated through the quaint kitchen, intermixing with the sounds of a jolly tune gushing from a small radio placed on the window sill above the sink. A young woman, with teased, champagne curls, and delicately blue eyes focused intently on her cutting, her pale hands careful in her ministrations. She paused, looking up to the stairs, her expression grimaced in annoyance. Her assistant was always late when it was time to start preparing dinner.

"Tony! Get ya' ass down here and help me, stupido!" Her penetrating, adenoidal shout carried throughout the house. A voice called to her from upstairs.

"Fuck! Okay! Stop bitchin' already!" Despite his impudent response, she seemed appeased by the bitter agreement, and continued to divide the shallot in front of her into minced particles. Anthony trudged down the stairs, a rubber band clasped between his teeth as he hands raked back his wild hair. He wrapped the small bundle with the band to hold it, and traipsed into the kitchen.

"What's on the menu ta'night, Molls?" He questioned, carding his fingers through his sister's hair to pull it back the same as his own. He pulled a second band and tied it in place.

"Pollo al Marsala." She swiped the minced shallots into a spare bowl. Anthony blew a cocky bout of air through his nose, smirking to himself as he pulled a skillet from the cabinet.

"That's kid shit. What kinda dunce needs help with Pollo al Marsala?" He deftly dodged an uncut shallot whipped at his head, rebounding it with the backhand swing of the skillet. The shallot sunk into the aperture of the kitchen sink drain.

"If ya' sucha' fuckin' prodigy, then ya' can handle the dinnah's by ya'self." She quipped with a sneer, walking over to fish out the ingredient from the sink. A few, lazy seconds under the water, and she brought it back to the counter, cutting into it.

"Ya' heard pops, men don't belong in the kitchen." He returned the flippant remark, placing the skillet on the stove.

Despite the rigid imposition of his father's sexist ideals, he enjoyed his time in the kitchen, and was rather skilled nonetheless. His sister, bless her heart, never rose to his level of adeptness when it came to preparing meals, relying heavily on his dexterity. He was no longer able to count on his fingers the times she came close to single-handedly burning the kitchen down.

No matter, he could never take for granted these moments of solace that came with concocting one of his mother's recipes alongside his sister. The enjoyable labor provided him with the familial bonding he found himself lacking when it came to his coarse father, and judgmental brother. Thick-as-thieves, him and his sister; inseparable since they were brought into this miserable world. Well, only for a few more weeks.

It hurt his heart to have to leave Molly behind; the least he could do was be honest with her. Allen wasn't fond of the idea of disclosing their affairs—sexual or otherwise—to anyone, but after gentle coaxing, he finally got the approval to divulge his plans to Molly. At first, she was surprised, then, safe to say, a bit angry at him for keeping such a skeleton in his cupboard. But, as Anthony confidently predicted, she was quick to give her loving support, even offering to send him some of his things in secrecy once he had settled in the south.