Sunday, May 18, 2014

Good Morning Jessicca...

Letter to my Daughter
Sunday, 18 May

Mom's  Day

Good Morning Jessicca…

Mollie blew into the kitchen with shower damp hair.  Where’s the mug?  Chirp’s bowl of sweet crunchies sat at the table, half eaten, now bloated with milk.  Drake’s X-Men issue opened to a jelly smear, missing from its toast.  Mollie searched the counter – toaster and blender tangled in cords, glasses stuffed with spoons and forks, congested plates, napkin crumplings, Saturday’s crusted waffle iron ajar.  Mollie yanked her mug free from the sink’s wedged pots.  Laughter came from the TV room.

“Drake!  Where’s the coffee?”
“I’ll get right on it, Hon.”
“I gotta go.”
“Oh, my God.  Look at the time.  You’re late.”
“You think?”
“Nuke what’s left in the pot”
“No time.  Taking it cold.”
“Chirp come say good-bye to your Mom.”
“Bye Mom.  Happy Birthday!”
“Thanks, dear.  Hugs and kisses.”
“Have a great day at work, Mollie.  Thinking of you.”
“Pay the power, Drake.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart.  I’m hand delivering it.  Happy Birthday.  Drive safe.”

Dad and daughter waved Mollie out the driveway.  They watched her drive the length up Duckworth Lane, turn towards town, then out of sight.  Dad turned to Chirp.

“Let’s make lemonade.”

The sun silhouetted the field’s brush as Mollie pulled into her drive.  The car’s door lurched open with a groan.  Mollie sat for a moment collecting her strength.  It was dark inside beyond the screen door.  There wasn’t a sound.  She made her way to the front porch, taking care to avoid the loose second step.  She stepped inside. 

“Hello.  Drake?  Chirp?  Anyone home?”

 Mollie’s eyes slowly adjusted to the gloom.  Chirp’s ostrich-feather hat still sat on the sofa.  She looked towards the darkened hall leading to the bedrooms.  She shuddered as a rabbit ran up her back. 


Mollie turned towards the kitchen.  It held a low glow.

“Come on guys.  Stop messing around.”

She stepped through the door.  A single light flickered from the table.

“Happy Birthday, Mom.”


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