Chapter Fourteen:
The Fireworks
Ten years passed. Lucy, Melody and Jonathon's first day of preschool, first grade, second grade, now they were in fifth grade. Abby was in high school, a sophomore.
Lucy was the smartest in her class. She was offered a chance to skip a grade, but opted out to stay with her sister, even though she was more interested with reading than music, unlike her sister. Everyone said she looked more like Greg, although she couldn't see the compliment in that. She did inherit her mother's dark hair and green eyes, however.
Lucy's fraternal twin, Melody, had also gotten her eyes and hair from her mother, but Nick said she looked just like a miniature Norah anyway. She was a tomboy; in fact, all her friends were guys. And don't let that "twins are best friends" cliché Mary-Kate and Ashley force into everyone's mind fool you. Melody didn't like hanging out with her twin sister. She started a punk band in fourth grade with her best friend, Ian. She did the vocals while, Ian was on the drums, and her other friend, Laden on bass.
Jonathon had also joined the band. He begged his parents in third grade for an electric guitar. After a month of no, he finally turned to Lucy who made a list of reasons why it'd be good for him. An impressed Lydia bought it for him along with lessons. As for appearance, he was pretty cute and he definitely worked the "bad boy" look he was looking for. All the fifth grade girls swooned as he walked by.
Abby was preppy. Only brand names for her, please. She was a cheerleader, her boyfriend? The star quarterback, Matthew. They got into a lot of trouble together, but Abby didn't care. She thought it helped her image. Her hair had turned red over the years and her eyes got bluer.
Norah had finally gained respect from her colleagues after ten years of working with them. Nick got something of a promotion. Greg was happy with his family. And Lydia was working on her third book. Her first two were both best sellers.
So, where does that leave our story? In the car, America's favorite form of transportation -- Nick driving, Lydia annoyed by her family, Abby embarrassed by her family and Jonathon worrying about missing practice at Melody's.
Silence filled the car, as usual.
"Are we still going out for dinner tonight?" Nick asked, trying to strike up a conversation.
"No," Lydia snapped. "I'm sick of eating out."
"We'll it'd help if someone in our family knew how to cook." Nick said.
"Are you suggesting I should start cooking?" Lydia growled.
"No, I don't want to set our NEW house on fire."
"You're such an ass." Lydia said.
Nick rolled his eyes. "At least I'm not PMSing."
"PMS? Ha. I wish." Lydia took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."
Abby choked on the water she had just swallowed. "What?"
Jonathon made a disgusted face. "I don't want to be the middle child!"
"Oh, this is great! As if one sibling wasn't enough! And I'll be 15 years older than them! This is just dandy, guys. Thanks for ruining my LIFE!" Abby pouted and crossed her arms over her chest.
"I don't want to be the middle child, they always show them on TV as the kids that don't get attention and do all the chores." Jonathon frowned.
Lydia frowned, too. "Well, that's too bad, guys. Too late now."
"We could always put John up for adoption," Abby suggested.
"The good, musically-inclined son or the bratty, preppy daughter? Gee I wonder who the 'rents will choose." Jonathon rolled his eyes.
Nick pulled into Norah and Greg's driveway. "No one's being put up for adoption."
Jonathon crawled out of the Tahoe and grabbed his guitar from the backseat. "I still don't want to be the middle child!"
"The comment box was on your seat - oh, it's not there. Guess that means we don't want your opinion." Nick said.
John rolled his eyes again and shut the door. He sprinted up the steps of the Sanders' house. He let himself in. Norah lifted her head off Greg's leg, who was sitting on the couch.
"Hey, John," Norah greeted. "They're waiting for you in the attic."
"Don't you knock?" Greg asked.
Norah returned her head to its rightful spot on Greg's leg. "He's blood."
"Not mine."
Jonathon came out of the kitchen with a blueberry pancake folded in his hand. "Thanks," he mumbled with his mouth full of pancake. He ran up the stairs.
"That was my pancake, man," Greg whined. "They're always over here eating our food. They owe us, like, $2,000 in groceries."
"They're family," Norah reminded him.
"They're only mine through marriage."
"Stop complaining," She demanded. They listened to the band playing from the attic. "Do you actually know the band's name?"
"I've always assumed it's 'The Band.' That's the only thing they call it." Greg shrugged.
"I thought Mel was the creative daughter."
About three minutes later Nick, Lydia and Abby came into the house.
"Umm...What's with the gap?" Greg asked.
Lydia and Nick looked at each other.
"We were settling something," Nick said.
Norah looked up at Greg with her eyebrows raised.
"About my PSTA scores." Abby rolled her eyes.
Norah's ears perked up. "What do you think you want to be?"
"A showgirl."
"What?" Nick shouted.
Greg laughed. "You could get tips from Catherine."
Nick gaped at Greg and then turned his head to Abby.
"Well, you have the grades of the average stripper anyway," Lydia commented.
"You're such a bitch," Abby spat.
Norah and Greg's mouths fell open.
"Abby Hope!" Nick and Lydia screamed at the same time.
"Actually, I want to be a fashion designer or, hey, maybe a prostitute," Abby snarled. "Then I could get tips from you guys. You're really good at the sex thing. The proof will be here in nine months!"
Norah and Greg looked at each other.
"Well, I'm happy." He kneeled down to Lydia's stomach. "There's hope for you, yet."
Abby rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen.
"Hey, hey!" Greg shouted after her. "That's my food! Man, I need a padlock for my fridge."
Norah hit Greg in the stomach to shut him up. "I know you guys are not pregnant again and you didn't even tell us first - again."
"We were going to later. I just told Nick and the kids on the way over here," Lydia summed up the day.
Abby came out of the kitchen and stomped up the stairs to the attic eating chips.
"Do you not feed your children?" Greg asked.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
"I'll get it." Greg ran to the door, leaving Norah's head without its pillow. He looked out the window and quickly went outside to talk to whoever was at the door.
Norah watched Lydia and Nick for possible clues, as she sat up from her reclining position on the couch, but they looked even more lost than she did. She crept to the window of the door and peered out of it. She watched Greg, Mandy, and a man talk in low voices. She couldn't tell much about the man, since his back was to her, only that he had gray and thinning hair. Norah ran back to the couch and sat down, as if she hadn't been watching them, as they walked through the door.
Nick looked at the man and knew who it was right away.
"Norah, do you remember our honeymoon?" Greg asked.
"Yeah, well...the morning sickness, anyway." Norah said, looking at everyone in front of her. "What's this about? You guys aren't committing me to a mental hospital or something, are you?"
Greg shook his head. "Norah...this is your father."
Norah said nothing. She watching his green eyes stare at her. She felt sick to her stomach. Hate built up inside of her, but she tried to be nice. "Nice to MEET you." Okay, she TRIED.
"Look, I know you're mad. And you should be. But, let me explain," the stranger said. "Your mother and I were dating mostly in spite of her family. Your grandmother hated me and your mother was about as rebellious as Mandy tells me you are now. When you were born your mother didn't want to tell everyone that I was the father and I wanted your grandparents to love you, for who you are, not who your dad was. So I left, it was a mutual thing. Please understand that."
Norah was still kind of mad, but her anger had died down a bit. "I understand. But, why are you here now?"
"Mandy told me you were married now and you told your husband you'd like to meet me." Her father half-smiled. "Plus, I heard I had twelve-year-old granddaughters."
Norah smiled, too. "Yeah, why don't you come with me. I'll go get them."
They walked to the attic, followed by Mandy, Greg, Lydia, and Nick. The band stopped playing as they saw their audience come in, in addition to Abby and Lucy who were listening to them already.
"Melody, Lucy - this is your grandfather," Norah announced.
Melody looked over her microphone. "This is only the first time we've met him."
Norah smiled. "Mine, too."
The end.
Ten years passed. Lucy, Melody and Jonathon's first day of preschool, first grade, second grade, now they were in fifth grade. Abby was in high school, a sophomore.
Lucy was the smartest in her class. She was offered a chance to skip a grade, but opted out to stay with her sister, even though she was more interested with reading than music, unlike her sister. Everyone said she looked more like Greg, although she couldn't see the compliment in that. She did inherit her mother's dark hair and green eyes, however.
Lucy's fraternal twin, Melody, had also gotten her eyes and hair from her mother, but Nick said she looked just like a miniature Norah anyway. She was a tomboy; in fact, all her friends were guys. And don't let that "twins are best friends" cliché Mary-Kate and Ashley force into everyone's mind fool you. Melody didn't like hanging out with her twin sister. She started a punk band in fourth grade with her best friend, Ian. She did the vocals while, Ian was on the drums, and her other friend, Laden on bass.
Jonathon had also joined the band. He begged his parents in third grade for an electric guitar. After a month of no, he finally turned to Lucy who made a list of reasons why it'd be good for him. An impressed Lydia bought it for him along with lessons. As for appearance, he was pretty cute and he definitely worked the "bad boy" look he was looking for. All the fifth grade girls swooned as he walked by.
Abby was preppy. Only brand names for her, please. She was a cheerleader, her boyfriend? The star quarterback, Matthew. They got into a lot of trouble together, but Abby didn't care. She thought it helped her image. Her hair had turned red over the years and her eyes got bluer.
Norah had finally gained respect from her colleagues after ten years of working with them. Nick got something of a promotion. Greg was happy with his family. And Lydia was working on her third book. Her first two were both best sellers.
So, where does that leave our story? In the car, America's favorite form of transportation -- Nick driving, Lydia annoyed by her family, Abby embarrassed by her family and Jonathon worrying about missing practice at Melody's.
Silence filled the car, as usual.
"Are we still going out for dinner tonight?" Nick asked, trying to strike up a conversation.
"No," Lydia snapped. "I'm sick of eating out."
"We'll it'd help if someone in our family knew how to cook." Nick said.
"Are you suggesting I should start cooking?" Lydia growled.
"No, I don't want to set our NEW house on fire."
"You're such an ass." Lydia said.
Nick rolled his eyes. "At least I'm not PMSing."
"PMS? Ha. I wish." Lydia took a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."
Abby choked on the water she had just swallowed. "What?"
Jonathon made a disgusted face. "I don't want to be the middle child!"
"Oh, this is great! As if one sibling wasn't enough! And I'll be 15 years older than them! This is just dandy, guys. Thanks for ruining my LIFE!" Abby pouted and crossed her arms over her chest.
"I don't want to be the middle child, they always show them on TV as the kids that don't get attention and do all the chores." Jonathon frowned.
Lydia frowned, too. "Well, that's too bad, guys. Too late now."
"We could always put John up for adoption," Abby suggested.
"The good, musically-inclined son or the bratty, preppy daughter? Gee I wonder who the 'rents will choose." Jonathon rolled his eyes.
Nick pulled into Norah and Greg's driveway. "No one's being put up for adoption."
Jonathon crawled out of the Tahoe and grabbed his guitar from the backseat. "I still don't want to be the middle child!"
"The comment box was on your seat - oh, it's not there. Guess that means we don't want your opinion." Nick said.
John rolled his eyes again and shut the door. He sprinted up the steps of the Sanders' house. He let himself in. Norah lifted her head off Greg's leg, who was sitting on the couch.
"Hey, John," Norah greeted. "They're waiting for you in the attic."
"Don't you knock?" Greg asked.
Norah returned her head to its rightful spot on Greg's leg. "He's blood."
"Not mine."
Jonathon came out of the kitchen with a blueberry pancake folded in his hand. "Thanks," he mumbled with his mouth full of pancake. He ran up the stairs.
"That was my pancake, man," Greg whined. "They're always over here eating our food. They owe us, like, $2,000 in groceries."
"They're family," Norah reminded him.
"They're only mine through marriage."
"Stop complaining," She demanded. They listened to the band playing from the attic. "Do you actually know the band's name?"
"I've always assumed it's 'The Band.' That's the only thing they call it." Greg shrugged.
"I thought Mel was the creative daughter."
About three minutes later Nick, Lydia and Abby came into the house.
"Umm...What's with the gap?" Greg asked.
Lydia and Nick looked at each other.
"We were settling something," Nick said.
Norah looked up at Greg with her eyebrows raised.
"About my PSTA scores." Abby rolled her eyes.
Norah's ears perked up. "What do you think you want to be?"
"A showgirl."
"What?" Nick shouted.
Greg laughed. "You could get tips from Catherine."
Nick gaped at Greg and then turned his head to Abby.
"Well, you have the grades of the average stripper anyway," Lydia commented.
"You're such a bitch," Abby spat.
Norah and Greg's mouths fell open.
"Abby Hope!" Nick and Lydia screamed at the same time.
"Actually, I want to be a fashion designer or, hey, maybe a prostitute," Abby snarled. "Then I could get tips from you guys. You're really good at the sex thing. The proof will be here in nine months!"
Norah and Greg looked at each other.
"Well, I'm happy." He kneeled down to Lydia's stomach. "There's hope for you, yet."
Abby rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen.
"Hey, hey!" Greg shouted after her. "That's my food! Man, I need a padlock for my fridge."
Norah hit Greg in the stomach to shut him up. "I know you guys are not pregnant again and you didn't even tell us first - again."
"We were going to later. I just told Nick and the kids on the way over here," Lydia summed up the day.
Abby came out of the kitchen and stomped up the stairs to the attic eating chips.
"Do you not feed your children?" Greg asked.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
"I'll get it." Greg ran to the door, leaving Norah's head without its pillow. He looked out the window and quickly went outside to talk to whoever was at the door.
Norah watched Lydia and Nick for possible clues, as she sat up from her reclining position on the couch, but they looked even more lost than she did. She crept to the window of the door and peered out of it. She watched Greg, Mandy, and a man talk in low voices. She couldn't tell much about the man, since his back was to her, only that he had gray and thinning hair. Norah ran back to the couch and sat down, as if she hadn't been watching them, as they walked through the door.
Nick looked at the man and knew who it was right away.
"Norah, do you remember our honeymoon?" Greg asked.
"Yeah, well...the morning sickness, anyway." Norah said, looking at everyone in front of her. "What's this about? You guys aren't committing me to a mental hospital or something, are you?"
Greg shook his head. "Norah...this is your father."
Norah said nothing. She watching his green eyes stare at her. She felt sick to her stomach. Hate built up inside of her, but she tried to be nice. "Nice to MEET you." Okay, she TRIED.
"Look, I know you're mad. And you should be. But, let me explain," the stranger said. "Your mother and I were dating mostly in spite of her family. Your grandmother hated me and your mother was about as rebellious as Mandy tells me you are now. When you were born your mother didn't want to tell everyone that I was the father and I wanted your grandparents to love you, for who you are, not who your dad was. So I left, it was a mutual thing. Please understand that."
Norah was still kind of mad, but her anger had died down a bit. "I understand. But, why are you here now?"
"Mandy told me you were married now and you told your husband you'd like to meet me." Her father half-smiled. "Plus, I heard I had twelve-year-old granddaughters."
Norah smiled, too. "Yeah, why don't you come with me. I'll go get them."
They walked to the attic, followed by Mandy, Greg, Lydia, and Nick. The band stopped playing as they saw their audience come in, in addition to Abby and Lucy who were listening to them already.
"Melody, Lucy - this is your grandfather," Norah announced.
Melody looked over her microphone. "This is only the first time we've met him."
Norah smiled. "Mine, too."
The end.