When There Was Me and You

CHAPTER SIX |:| FAVORITE THINGS

 C H A P T E R   S I X  |:|  F A V O R I T E  T H I N G S

a month after and a year before  

May 2, 2010

I put the pan away, careful to not get burned again. I open the fridge and get two pieces of strawberries and put them on top of two scoop cream at the plate. I look at the plate, tempted to eat the bacons that took me a lot of time to cook perfectly. I wiped the grease near the place where I put the bacons at the bottom of the plate.

There.

I grabbed the tray, careful to not let the glass of warm water break. I don't want to wake my mom up yet.

When I reach the master bedroom, I open the door slightly. When I see that my mom was still asleep, I try to avoid laughing at myself for what I am about to do next.

"MOM! MOM! MOM! MOM!" I scream frantically, as if I got lost in the supermarket and was looking for her.

My mom wakes up in the worst way possible, with her hair all messy and her eyes all wide open. She sits up properly and looks at me with worried eyes.

"Happy Mother's Day," I say sweetly. I hand her the table tray and lay it on her bed.

I look at my mother as she looks confused. She looks like she's about to get mad at me for waking her up at seven a.m., but she broke into a big smile and quickly draws me into a hug.

"I love you, too." I roll my eyes and pat her back.

"Don't you ever do that to me again," she lectures.

I point at her food which is going to be cold any minute now and motion for her to eat it.

"Well, come sit beside me and we'll eat this together." My mom moves aside to make some space for me to fit in. I follow her, not wanting to argue with her.

"That's all for you, I brought my breakfast with me." I grin at her widely. She looks at me while I take out my plate that I placed on the bedside table.

My mom eyes my breakfast with jealousy as I start to eat her favorite. "Why didn't you make me pancakes, too?"

I decide to act innocent, like a lost little puppy. "I made you bacon, mom. That is your favorite."

"No, it's not. It's your favorite. Mine is pancakes," she says slowly, as if explaining to me like a three year old.

I roll my eyes and say, "Okay, fine. I'll leave some pancakes for you to eat. It just didn't match with the strawberries and cream."

"But they aren't my favorite. They're yours!"

"Mom, they're just not your favorite yet. Plus, they look so beautiful on your plate!"

"Okay, fine. I won't bicker with you."

"Good." I pat my mom's head as if she was a little kid. "Happy Mother's Day."

∞ 👩 ∞

"Okay, now, I know you're about to say something bad about what I am going to say, but you have to hear me out."

"Shoot."

"I need you to deliver this to the Andersons' and -"

"What? Mom, no!"

"Just let me finish."

"Mom, you already know what happened between me and-"

"I do, honey. But please be a bit more mature about it and let it aside just so you can deliver this to the Andersons' and -"