Memories

Thirteen

Regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life. -- Maya Angelou

Closing the door behind, Alicia walked into the house, carrying two plastic bags. Sitting in the couch at the living room, I glanced over my shoulder and met her gaze.

"Oh, hey. Mornin', Dad."

I stood up from my seat and started my way towards her, as she placed the bags on the dining table and took off her cardigan before pouring herself a glass of water from the jug.

"Morning," I glanced at the contents of the bags, "You were out shopping this early?" It was only 8 after all.

"Yeah, I noticed that the refrigerator was running empty and it will be easier to get them for you before leaving tomorrow."

As she chugged down the water, I proceeded to store the fruits and vegetables into the refrigerator. "Thanks, Alicia."

She hummed a reply, washing the glass at the basin. "Leave the tray of eggs and packet of sausages outside. I'll make breakfast."

Placing the pan on top of the stove, she turned to me. "You want sunny-side up eggs right?"

Right this second, you walked into the kitchen, passing through Alicia to get to the basin and back to the stove.

"Yup."

As Alicia turned on the knob and started to fry the eggs, I watched as you stood at the stove beside her. She was so close to you, yet she didn't, and would never know. I guess it wasn't fair that way. Maybe I will tell her someday. But not yet.

Watching you both at the same time, I realized how much Alicia resembled you. Do you remember how many times people commented on how you two looked alike? Yeah, almost everyone. She was your carbon copy.

But as more wrinkles crawled onto your face, and the childishness leaving Alicia's, it wasn't the same anymore. Like the shadow had left its owner.

"So, Alicia," I started, "How's it going with your boyfriend?"

As soon as the word left my mouth, a series of clattering boomed followed by a yelp. The pan had fallen off the stove, and Alicia was holding up her hand, her face twisted in pain.

I jumped out of my seat and rushed over in quick steps.

"Are you okay?" I looked closely at her fingers, which were slightly red.

"Very mild burns. I'm fine."

I grabbed her wrist gently, leading her to the sink and turning on the tap, letting the cold water rinse her burns. She winced when the water came in contact with her fingers but relaxed after a few seconds.

"Be careful when you're dealing with fire. Hadn't I drilled that into you already?" I said sternly.

"How can you not know where you got these from? Don't they hurt?"

"They do!"

"Repeat to me what I've been telling you."

"Don't run around the house, and keep away from sharp objects and high places. Don't bother mom when she's cooking." She recited monotonously. A second later, as though someone had switched on the lights to a dark room, she suddenly brightened up. "And go to Daddy when I'm hurt! He can take the pain away!"

I laughed. "That last part wasn't what I said. I'm not a magician, Alicia."

"But it's true! So I'm gonna keep doing that!"