Blue Sheep || ONGOING

Chapter 3 {EDITED}

Lacuna;

A blank space, a missing spot.

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 Apples.

Charise woke up to the smell of apples.

Unusual was what it was, her family never harvested apples - yet again, she hasn't been part of this family for a while...

The rays of sunlight dawned on her, like laser beams that painfully burned her eyes. She turned her head towards the door, hoping to get a few more winks of sleep, but even then the sun burned into her back - creating a warm but nevertheless time-to-get-up feeling.

Charise's feet searched for the slippers under her bed, and when she was unsuccessful she sighed and stood up. Her feet touched the cold floor and she uncomfortably skidded to the oak closet that smelled of rum and smoke.

Was she supposed to be dressed for breakfast?

Charise's fingers looped around the small metal handle and she opened the door, revealing a modest array of clothing. She picked out the casual blue toile dress and the same navy blue shoes she arrived in.

How should she wear her hair? 

Up or down?

Her mother always said she looked beautiful when her hair was up. "It reveals your rosy cheeks!" she'd say, and 8-year-old Charise would giggle her little heart out.

Charise smiled at the memory as she loosely tied up her hair.

~*~

The table was dressed in a blue checkered skirt and weighed with an excessive amount of pancakes, a large jug of milk, a woven basket filled to the brim with apples, and three azure teacups that lined the perimeter of the table.

A warm smile rose on Charise's face - breakfast was always the most important meal in the Sinclair family. Her father would sit at the head of the table with a large cup of coffee in one hand - with the other he held the fork as though it was a trident and say; "Eat as though it's the last meal you'll ever have." Charise and Daniel would then exchange a humorous glance an begin to gobble down their food.

When Charise moved to the city, there was barely any time for breakfast. Every morning she'd have a slice of toast with a cup of coffee (black, no sugar) before immediately starting to paint, and if she was done with her painting, she'd run around contacting buyers, art galleries and critics... from whom she'd receive a similar response; "It's nice... but how about I buy it for $200 less?"

"Charise, honey, good morning." she heard her mother call. Instantly, she snapped out of her absent-minded state and smiled.

The three of them settled down at the table, all of them dressed as though they were strangers; Daniel wore a white collar-shirt and had his hair brushed, and her mother wore a sky-blue sweater with a long circle skirt. 

"Thank you for the breakfast mum," Charise said brightly, and to break the awkward silence asked - "Where are the apples from?"

Seemingly glad that her daughter brought up the question, her mother cast Daniel an exciting look - which Daniel did not return - and returned her sparkling gaze to her daughter, 

"The Sawyer's generously offered us some - and for that, I invited them over for dinner tonight."

Charise suddenly felt anxiety rush through her body, not because she knew who the Sawyers were, but because she didn't. Frankly, she felt like a mere stranger around her family, how was she supposed to act around these people?

~*~

From what Charise could gather from her mother, the Sawyers were a wealthy family that just bought a house not too far away from where they lived. Of course, this wasn't their only home, but simply one of many - they probably considered this one their "cottage".

The Sawyers were a family of four - mother, father, and two "children" - who were fully grown adults and just as successful and rich as their parents.... or maybe even more.

After breakfast, Charise volunteered to help Daniel in the barn with the animals. Together, they threw the haystacks from the back of the tractor into the barn.

"Danny- Daniel, have you ever met the Sawyers?" Charise stuttered, feeling embarrassed that she called her brother his childhood nickname, but at the same time, she wished he'd call her "Cherry" - her childhood nickname, even if it was just by accident.

"Yes, I have. They're..." Daniel paused what he was doing, "Sophisticated... and polite."

Sophisticated and polite, very descriptive, thanks. 

Thought Charise and walked over to the sheep and began to brush their soft, cloud-like wool and smiled softly. Her fingers seeped deeper into their forest of wool until she felt it's skin, warm and vulnerable. She felt the sheep breath, listened to it's long, deep breaths and closed her eyes, remembering how together with Danny they'd open the gate and let the sheep into the fields. While the animals nibbled at the grass, they'd run around, playing an innocent and careless game of tag.

When Charise returned to reality, she felt tears spilling from her eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was running into her brother's arms and tightly wrapping her arms around him. She buried her face into his shirt like a bullied child and cried.

After a few moments she felt her brother's arms soothingly stroke her back, and for the first time since she arrived, she felt calm - as though one missing puzzle piece out of many finally fit.

Daniel, 

no matter how old,

was still, Danny.