I feel bad, but I spend most of my week at home typing up my story. It’s just that since I have been back, I have caught the writing bug and can’t seem to stop. As I predicted, I am a third into the story. Ten more chapters and I will be half way through. I still haven’t come up with a title though. I hope that it will come to me soon.
Wednesday early morning, three days after I arrived, I do take a break and play video games for a while. I have become addicted to a skiing game that I found lying around in Judy’s room. I know it is probably Tommy’s though, because I don’t recall Judy ever having it.
With Christmas in a few days, I realize that it would be smarter for me finish all my Christmas shopping today. So around ten in the morning, I leave and head to the store for a day filled with shopping. By the time I get back home, it is 1:30 in the afternoon . I then spend an hour wrapping the gifts. I have to say, my wrapping skills have improved greatly. Maybe next year I can get a gig at the mall doing it for cash.
I then head downstairs to get some food from the fridge. I find a plate of leftover French toast from mom and pull it out. I then place it on the dining room table to eat.
“Afternoon,” says Judy, as she grabs another plate of French toast from the fridge. She is still in her nightgown which surprises me. She is usually up earlier than me.
She then sets the plate at the table and takes a seat. I see her gloomy expression and frown. “Hey, you okay?”
“Not really. I’m just not feeling good today.”
“Are you sick?”
“Well, no. I’m just on my…ugh. Never mind.”
I know exactly what she means, but I decide not to bug her about it. I used to hate it when mom did that to me. I would just want to be left alone.
“Well, I hope you feel better soon.”
“I probably will by tomorrow.”
We both eat in silence and the only sound that can be heard is the sound of forks scraping on plates. After we both finish, I take our plates and load them into the dishwasher.
“So how is your story coming?” Judy asks, when I sit back at the table. “I know you have been working on one. You’ve barely left your room all week.”
“I know. I have just caught the writing bug. I have been getting so many bursts of writing ideas, that it has kept me stuck in my room. I don’t want to forget anything.”
“Well, you should still try and come out more. In a week you will be back at school again, and I won’t see you until spring break.”
I sigh, feeling a bit guilty. She made a good point.
“You’re right. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not a problem. I just want us to spend some time together.”
“And we will. We still got six days before I leave. How about we spend the whole day together tomorrow? We can go to central park and hang at the winter festival.”
Judy smiles. “That sounds good,” she says, and then she swings out of her seat and walks toward the family room. “I’m going to go watch cartoons. You want to join me?”
“In a bit,” I say, and then I get up and head outside.
I take a seat on the chair sitting on the porch and look out into the street. Snow has started to fall filling the ground with white. Instantly the song “Let It Snow,” pops into my head and I smile. Everything feels still and peaceful, except for a car that will occasionally pass by.
I glance over at Abby’s house and remember the times I would track across the snow to her house in the winter. My mother would yell for me to hurry up and get off the street.
I don’t know how long I sit there but, soon I drift off to sleep. I then wake up to the sound of honking fifteen minutes later. A car has pulled up at Abby’s house. I squint trying to see who it is, but the fence blocks them from view. Still, I catch a glimpse of a man’s silhouette along with that of blonde hair. Could it be…Brad?