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Something Better Someday

I'm like a kid who just won't let it go,
Twisting and turning the colors in rows.
I'm so intent to find out what it is;
This is my Rubik's cube.
I know I will figure it out.
- Athlete

"You've done this before."

It was true. Aubrey had made pancakes before – and she was the best pancake maker in the history of all pancake makers, thank you very much. She could measure with precision and she did not get any egg shells in the bowl when she cracked the eggs. She also did not make a mess when she mixed the batter – not one tiny speck of flour escaped the bowl. If other pancake makers knew how great Aubrey was at making pancakes, they would be so jealous that they would never ever ever make another pancake again. That's how jealous they would be.

"That's probably the most round pancake I've ever seen in my entire life," Julia commented as Aubrey flipped the first one over in the pan.

No one else could ever make pancakes so round. Nobody ever could do that. Because Aubrey was so good at it. She was so good. She turned the pancake over onto the plate, then quickly looked at that lady to see what she thought. She was probably going to try to say that it was burned, but it wasn't. It was a good job.

"You are so good at this. You could probably be a professional pancake maker if you wanted to be."

"You didn't look at it," Aubrey stated.

"I'm looking at it right now. You're doing such a great job."

Aubrey loved when people told her she was doing such a great job. It made her want to work harder; it made her want to learn more. But she didn't feel good right now. She wanted this lady to look at her perfect pancake and tell her it was awful; the worst pancake she had ever seen. She wanted her to find something wrong with it, and she didn't know why. "Well, you didn't look well enough."

"Let's make another one."

Aubrey did, and the second one definitely had something wrong with it. She flipped it onto the next plate, then looked at her again.

"Another great pancake."

"It's a different size," Aubrey pointed out the difference.

"Yes, but do you think it's a realistic expectation to have that all of them be exactly the same size?" Julia asked.

Yes. Aubrey turned away from her to make the third one.

"I think there is enough left to make two more after this one," Julia said.

"But there's three people."

"Mhm."

"But that's five pancakes."

"We don't want to waste it though, right?"

Aubrey guessed not. She should have made them bigger – but, no, that wouldn't work. The pan was too small for that. She finished making the rest of them, then positioned the plates on the counter so the plate with only one pancake was between the one with two. It looked better that way. She stared at it for several moments, then turned off the stove and stepped down from the stool she was using to reach. She wasn't so hungry anyway, whatever – but Julia stopped her from taking the plate that only had one pancake.

"I already had some yogurt, so, why don't you take two and I'll take that one?"

It would have been better if the rest of the family was there, so everyone could get one pancake. "We didn't make one for your husband," she realized.

"That's okay. He'll eat some cereal or something when he gets back," Julia replied.

That wasn't fair. Aubrey climbed back up to grab an extra plate, then moved one of her pancakes onto that one. She left that plate on the counter then carried the other plates to the table one by one, using both hands so she didn't risk dropping them. "Where is the silverware?"

"That drawer right there."

Forks and knives didn't need to be carried one at a time. They just needed to be pointed down. Aubrey placed those on the side of each plate, because this didn't seem like a use napkins and set the table correctly type of family – and who knew if the table was clean enough to put utensils on?

"Would you like me to cut yours for you?" Julia asked and picked up the fork and knife on Chloe's plate to cut her food.

Cut it for her? "No thank you," Aubrey tried to reply as politely as possible when what she really wanted to say was, 'What the heck, crazy lady?' She pulled the stool over to the sink and climbed back up on it so she could clean the dishes.

"We can do that after we eat," Julia said, and Aubrey could feel her stress level rising.

"You always clean right after you cook so the food doesn't stick." Everybody knew that.

"Or you just leave it by the sink and scrub real hard later," Julia replied, "Are you the person who does the cooking and cleaning at home?"

Aubrey shook her head.

"No? You just know how?"

"It's important to know how to do things," Aubrey informed her.

"Who cooks and cleans at your house?" Julia asked.

"Mostly my mother."

"Do all her pancakes have to be the same size?"

Aubrey stared at the whisk as she rinsed the soap bubbles from it. "It depends on the day."

"Like if it's Monday or Tuesday?" Julia asked.

Aubrey looked over her shoulder at her. Maybe she was just like Aubrey's mother – when she was having a good day, everyone just pretended the bad ones didn't exist. She turned to wash the bowl.

"Everyone chips in a little bit here," Julia went on, "But I'd say I do most of the cooking and cleaning."

"Well, you do a bad job," Aubrey informed her. If she did a good job, she would know Aubrey was a guest and shouldn't be the one doing it, because it should already be getting done by her.

"Sometimes I get lazy," Julia said, "I just don't want to do something, so I don't do it until I feel like it. Do you ever do that?"

"My father says that lazy people miss opportunities, because opportunities always come dressed in overalls and look like work," Aubrey replied.

"Mine says if there's an easier, more efficient way to make progress, you can trust a lazy man to find it," Julia countered, "We've been thinking about getting a dishwasher." She turned toward the living room. "Chlo, come eat breakfast."

Chloe came bouncing into the kitchen with a drawing in her hand. "You made her do chores already?" she asked, looking at Aubrey, "You get one quarter for every chore you do on your chores chart. How much did you get at your old home?"

"I earned appreciation of the value of hard work and responsibility," Aubrey stated.

Chloe made a face and then turned to Julia. "I drew this for you," she said and held up her picture, "It's a beaver."

Julia gasped. "Aw, I love it." She took the paper from her and grinned. "Maybe you can draw some teeth like this for yourself. What do you think?"

Chloe smiled a wide, toothless smile and nodded. "Then I can eat apples again."

"I'm going to put it in my pocket so I can put it on my desk at work later," Julia said and carefully folded the paper.

"You're going to work?" Chloe asked.

"After we go shopping," Julia said, "I'm going to drop you off with Aunt Rachel."

Chloe gaped at her. "You're going to make me and Aubrey stay with Aunt Rachel?"

"No, I'm going to make you stay with Aunt Rachel. Aubrey is going with me."

Chloe's jaw dropped even farther. "I want to go to work with you. I never go to work with you."

"Not today," Julia said, "I was thinking you could go with Daddy on Saturday, but I'll let him know you want to go with me instead."

"Your work sounds really boring," Chloe changed her mind, "I want to go with Daddy."

"No, it'll be really fun to sit in my office with me all day." Julia tucked the paper into her back pocket. "You don't want to do that?"

Chloe gave her a disgusted look and slowly shook her head.

"You know, if you don't want to go to Aunt Rachel's and see your cousins this afternoon, I can always drop you off at school for the rest of the day."

Chloe threw her head back and groaned as she dragged herself to the table. "Fiiine, I'll go to Aunt Rachel's."

Julia helped her into her chair then pushed her in. "Daddy will pick you up as soon as he's done work."

Chloe's lower lip jutted out. "I want you to pick me up."

"Well, then you have to stay with Aunt Rachel longer."

"Fiiiiiine," Chloe whined, "Daddy can pick me up from Auntie Rachel's. Why can't I go with Grandma?"

"Grandma is busy," Julia answered.

"Cause she don't love me?" Chloe deadpanned then looked at table, "No syrup?! Nobody loves me. I don't even get syrup with my pancakes."

"You are full of drama." Julia kissed the top of her head.

"I'm calling CPS," Chloe stated.

Julia burst out laughing. "I am CPS, you nut," she said, tickling Chloe's neck.

Chloe shrieked with laughter and squirmed on her chair.

Aubrey finished making sure everything was cleaned up then walked over to join them at the table.

"Let me get you girls some syrup." Julia kissed Chloe's head one more time then walked to the refrigerator to retrieve it.

"Momma can cut your pancake if you want her to," Chloe said.

Aubrey just looked at her then sat down on her chair and stared at her pancake.

"Here, Baby." Julia offered the syrup to Aubrey first.

Aubrey shook her head.

"You don't want any? Do you want something else to put on your pancake? I know some people like butter."

No.

Julia rubbed her back and offered the bottle to Chloe, then quickly plucked it out of her hands when she squeezed roughly half of it all over her plate. "Chloe Beale, nobody needs that much syrup on their pancakes."

"But it's so good."

"I know." Julia tipped her head back and squeezed some of it into her mouth then winked at Chloe.

"Do me! I don't even have to open my mouth!" Chloe grinned and tilted her head back, giggling as Julia squeezed a few drops in the opening where her front teeth should have been.

"I think that's enough syrup for you." Julia placed the bottle beside Aubrey's plate. "Aubrey, if you want some, help yourself." She pulled her plate and chair over to sit closer to Aubrey. "Aubrey made these pancakes."

"They're so good," Chloe said as she stuffed some in her mouth, "I love them."

"May I be excused?" Aubrey asked.

"No." Julia shook her head. "I need you to eat at least half of that."

Aubrey picked up her fork and knife and cut her pancake in half as best as she could for someone just eyeballing the measurement. She knew that, in the end, she would end up eating all of it, because that's what was right. But for the time being, she only cut up half into bite sizes pieces, stopping her utensils when Julia spoke to Chloe again.

"Chloe, are you feeding the dog?"

Aubrey peered under the table and, sure enough, the dog was sitting down there. She pulled her feet up onto the chair with her.

Chloe shook her head and tried to look serious, then burst into a fit of giggles as the dog's nose appeared above her lap, sniffing for more.

No one could be that happy all the time. And if Aubrey's pancakes were so good, why feed them to an animal?

"Are you enjoying those pancakes too?" Julia asked the dog, who seemed to know he was being addressed and responded with a partial bark and a whine.

Chloe took a bite then let the dog eat another piece right out of her hand. It was disgusting. There was a drool. And then she used that same hand to pick up another bite and feed herself. And her mother didn't even say anything about it; in fact, she looked entertained.

Aubrey used her fork to take a bite of her food like a civilized human being. It didn't taste like when she made pancakes at home. These pancakes had chocolate chips, and she hated that they tasted so good. Good or not though, she still had to force her pancake down, because she just did not feel like eating.

xxxxx

After breakfast, Julia cleaned up and washed the plates then put them in the drying rack with the others with neither expression nor comment about the task. She just did it – like their conversation earlier had not existed. The entire time, Aubrey expected some expression of annoyance or a 'happy now?', but it didn't appear to cross her mind. Once she was done, she simply turned around and called to the dog, "Rock! Work time! Come put your vest on!"

Rock trotted back into the kitchen with Chloe trailing close behind him and sat down beside the back door, waiting patiently as Julia took a vest that said 'Therapy Dog' off one of the wall hooks then buckled it onto his body. He was going to go in the car with them?

"Alright, Girlies, go use the bathroom then put your shoes on."

"I don't know where they are," Chloe said.

"By the bottom of the stairs, Pumpkin," Julia replied as she hooked Rock's leash onto his vest.

Aubrey's shoes must have still been in the adult bedroom. She turned and took herself upstairs to use the restroom then find them, and, surely enough, they were exactly where she had left them. No one had touched them or even so much as called her to put them away. She slipped them on then went back downstairs to find everyone waiting by the front door for her. "I'm sorry," she muttered then mentally kicked herself for not speaking clearly.

"For what?" Julia asked.

For leaving her shoes in the middle of the floor? For making them wait for her to go get them? Aubrey didn't understand a thing about how this household worked.

xxxxx

Chloe skipped to the car, and then she skipped around the car as she waited for her mother to unlock the doors. Aubrey, on the other hand, walked then stood patiently next to the back passenger's side door. And, somehow, even though Aubrey was right next to the door and Chloe was all over the driveway, Chloe managed to get her door open and clamber into the car first. She already had her seatbelt buckled and was kicking her feet back and forth by the time Aubrey sat down and shut her door.

Rock was let into the front passenger's side, but he didn't stay there. The second Julia released him and shut his door, he turned and climbed over the center console into the backseat with them where he then decided to sit directly on top of Chloe's entire body.

"Blech!" Chloe pressed herself back into the seat and tried to push his hair away from her face. She wiped her tongue with the palm of her hand, then wiped that on the dog's body. "Take your hair back."

I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home. Aubrey turned and angled her body away from them, looking out the window as Julia pulled out in the direction opposite of where her father had pulled in. She wanted to break the car. She wanted to take the door and rip it off the hinges and jump out and run away. She imagined herself doing just that. She would tuck and roll safely across the asphalt, then in one swift movement, she would jump to her feet!

She would run home so fast that not even the car could catch her.