Finally, I thought as I biked down the street, the wind blowing my hair back, away from my face, and the sun shining on me for the first time this summer. It didn't matter that I wore a dress that went past my knees, nor that I'd have to bike up that steep hill to get back home later; I won't be getting any homework for the next two months! That's basically heaven. And on top of that, Megan is coming home from a business trip today!
I can't believe that the weather channel had actually predicted today's weather correctly, but I don't have anything against it.
Last year, every time that the weatherman said a day would be sunny, that day always ended up raining like someone had poured ahugebucket of water over the entire area.
Midway up the hill, I had to halt and get off my bike—I painted like a herding dog, and sweat stained my clothes like I didn't live in Forks, Washington.
Thankfully, the wind blew today, ever so lightly. For my entire life—well, this life—I've only been able to bike up this hill entirely without breaks twice. In my last one, I have never been even remotely near this hill.
Just as I got to the top of the hill, my home came into view. Thomas' car was parked out in the driveway, so I knew he was crafting something in the garage.
I quickly put my bike back onto its rack by the entrance of the garage.
"I'm home, Tom!" I called. My parents didn't mind that I called them by their first names.
He couldn't hear me over his loud power tools.
I didn't stay long, due to the fact that one time when I tried to check on what Tom was working on, I had spoiled Megan's birthday gift and my Christmas present all in one day. Her birthday gift was a beautiful live-edge coffee table, and it now stands in the middle of the living room. My Christmas presents from Tom for every year now have been miniature carved animals. That year, though, it was one of a dog—a German Shepherd, as I have been obsessing over that breed ever since I had seen one that year.
The sunlight shined through the windows. It could possibly be Meg's houseplants' first time seeing the sun.
I ran up the stairs, into my bedroom, threw my backpack on the floor, and collapsed on my bed. Okay, perhaps I shouldn't have done that, considering how sweaty I am, but I need to change my sheets anyway.
The sunlight shone on the leaves, which created shadow patterns on my carpet, gently swaying this way and that due to the light breeze. The heart sun catchers that Meg had gifted me 5 Christmases ago made the most mini rainbows I've ever seen.
The sounds of birds and the sun lit rooms really reminded me of my past life. I sat on the couch after having swept the kitchen and entryway and imagined I was Eleanor Mary James again. My beau, Edward had just walked me home from school, and stayed a while to talk, then he would walk home down the road just before suppertime, unless my mother had invited him to eat with us, then he would tell his mother that he wouldn't be eating at home that night, or my mother would even invite his mother over.
But with all those fond memories also came painful ones, and I tried not to think about my older brother leaving to fight in the war, the tears that came after that; my body heating up, my throat so sore I couldn't talk, having to get up every few minutes to clean my handkerchief...
The front door opened, and I heard footsteps that were so loud they were unmistakably Tom's.
"It's raining! Can you believe it? The only sunny day we get and it's sun rain."
"That's great," I groaned.
I looked at the window, and sure enough, raindrops hit the window, though not too violently. Yet.
The clock caught my eye, and its hands read 4:13. I'd better start cooking if I wanted to get dinner ready in time.
I placed a glass bowl full of potato salad on the dining room table.Oh, no!I thought, and ran out of the dining room into the kitchen. I opened the cupboard and took out a toothpick, then opened the oven door. Reached to get the cake tin—
"OW!" I closed the oven door and hastily went over to the kitchen sink, stubbing my toe against the island along the way. I turned the faucet all the way cold, and placed my right hand under the running water. Good thing I didn't touch the tin for too long, or it could've been much worse.
This time, I put on my oven mitts before carefully sliding the cake tin out and inserting the toothpick in the center. It came out clean, so I took the cake out and turned the oven off.
I sat on the top step of the porch, overlooking the hill below, ready to greet Meg. I picked the loose pebbles and tossed them onto the grass below. After waiting less than five minutes, her car drove up the hill, and turned into the driveway.
Rushing down the stairs turned out to be a minor mistake, because when I got down to the second last step, my foot hit the ground, rather than the last step, and I fell onto my knees.
Megan got out of the car, and walked over.
I stood up and brushed the dirt off my dress apron, laughing. "I'm glad I forgot to take it off."
She hugged me and kissed my cheek. "I missed you, Mads."
She smelled of lavender, which has always been her favorite scent of perfume. I remember crying when I was little because I found the lavender scent too strong right after she had sprayed on her perfume and tried to hug me.
"I missed you too, Meg! And, oh! You came home just in time; I just got done cooking sup—dinner," I said as we walked up the stairs.
"You've always been such a good cook. I can't wait to try it, sweetie!"
I opened the screen door, and we went inside.
Tom and I finished first, as always, and so instead of just sitting there, I took all the empty plates out into the kitchen and started cleaning them.
By the time I had washed all of the dishes, I figured that Meg would be done, so I took the sponge cake on the cake stand that I had so carefully iced with whipped cream and layered with more whipped cream along with strawberry purée—which is Meg's favorite—along with three plates, a knife, and three forks, that I had placed on the plates.
I brought it into the dining room, and the moment Meg saw it, her face lit up even more, like a child eyeing her favorite candy. Or any candy, really.
"Is that what I really think it is, Madison?" she asked after she had finished the last of her food.
"Yup! Vanilla sponge with whipped cream and strawberry purée," I said, set-ting everything down on the table.
I handed them each a plate, and asked, "Who wants to cut it?" I don't like cutting cakes, because even after all these years of practice, I still can't manage to cut even slices. When I do cut cakes though, I take the biggest piece for myself.
As I laid on my bed in my room with the lights off, I thought about how the day had gone by so nicely, besides the little bit of rain. The moonlight shone through the windows, and almost lit up the entire room. I've always liked laying in bed before I drifted off into Dreamland. Perhaps 'always' is an exaggeration; young Eleanor couldn't handle it when my mother wasn't in the room at night, but it is the only time I can think without being interrupted by teachers, classmates, parents, or friends.
'But being in school is for learning, not daydreaming, Madison.' You wouldn't feel that way if you've been through all of elementary and middle school twice, along with being more than halfway through high school for your second time.
True, I get to learn about the things that I've missed out on since I'd died, but the rest? Boring. (Please don't tell anyone that I've basically forgotten almost everything I had learned in school the first time.)
A great thing that I can think of on the top of my mind about living in the 21st century is that people barely have porridge for breakfast anymore, at least this family doesn't. It's flavorless, and if you keep your eyes off of it for more than a moment, it's burnt. You can't really do that with toast. Well, unless you're Tom. He has a knack for burning toast, when it's really the simplest thing in the world.
I really can't believe that it's not only not raining, but not cloudy, either! I should really do some of the laundry...
Since it's a weekend, the only one that's awake and in the house is me. Meg likes sleeping in, and Tom is already in the garage.
The toaster dinged and the toast popped up, so I took some butter and jam out of the fridge. I poured some oil into the now-hot skillet I had been heating up, and moved it around. Resuming back to my toast, I cut a thick slice of butter and put it on the hot, toasted slice of bread. I cracked an egg into the pan, and quickly ground some salt and black pepper on top. I spread the butter, and put some jam on top.
Now all that was left to do was to eat everything before anyone could see me eating and ask me to cook some.
Oh, I can't believe it! So far, not a drop of rain has fallen. It's already evening, and Meg is cooking tonight. I would love to help, but she ushered me outside to take the laundry back in, saying, "You've been cooking all the meals for the past week while I've been eating out. Now get the clothes in before the dew gets to them."
When I was 7, I had asked Tom to build a clothesline, because that's the way the Jameses had dried their clothes. And if I'm going to be completely honest, I was confused on why Meg put the clothes in the weird big box for them to come out clean. We've been using it ever since. Well, when it's sunny, at least.
I picked up the basket of clothes, and brought it into the laundry room to be folded later. I went into the kitchen to see how dinner was coming along. Meg hadn't yet finished, so she once again ushered me outside.
The sun still sat above the treetops, so I decided to wander behind the house. The weeds were starting to grow. Well, they had been growing since the spring, but Tom had trimmed the ones that were close to the house, so it would be pretty easy to walk through them for a while.
After a while of trotting around mindlessly, I saw a path out of the corner of my eye. I could still hear Meg cooking, so I decided it would be harmless to walk along it.
Bird songs were much louder than they were near the house, and chipmunks peaked over fallen trees, running away when I got too close.
Before I knew it, the birds close by had stopped singing, and the only sound accompanying me was the sound of my footsteps.
I looked up into the treetops, as the faint light of the sun slowly faded away. I couldn't see anything but trees, and my vision started blurring from the lack of light.
A voice pierced the silence—Meg's. I couldn't make out what she was saying, but I figured that it was a threat to finish my food if I didn't show up soon.
One time when I was 6, she told me that she would eat my lunch if I didn't clean my hands before coming to the table. Well, I didn't, so she hid my plate and I cried because I really thought she had eaten all my food.
I turned around and ran back towards the house, holding my dress up with both of my hands, fearing that I would trip.
I should have brung a flashlight with me, but I had just assumed that there would still be light when I would head back.
When I could see the light shining out of the dining room windows, I slowed down, breathing heavily and also through my mouth.
Before I turned around to the front of the house, I looked back at the path. I would have to see where it leads to another day, preferably when the sun is high in the sky. If we can even get any more sunny days this year.
But for now, I'll focus on getting into the dining room and piling my plate with food before Tom eats everything.