The Rescue

by Izzy Daniels

  “Okay, let’s do this,” she chirps. Great . She looks adorable in an apron.

  “I’m ready. What’s on the menu?” I ask.

  “Pancakes, eggs, some fresh fruit, and bacon of course. Can you grab the eggs and bacon from the fridge?” She nudges her chin toward the stainless steel doors.

  She pulls over a big plastic container of flour and opens a drawer to grab some measuring cups. I set the carton and package of bacon on the counter next to the stove and she waves me over to her side.

  “Ready to learn how to make pancakes?” Emma asks. I nod and I watch the hypnotic movements of her hands as she teaches me. She adds the flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. She then lets me add the melted butter, eggs, and milk to the center. She hands me a whisk but when I try to mix it, I end up flinging the flour mix all over the counter, stove, and her arms.

  “Oh no, I’m so sorry, Emma!” I cry in dismay. She brushes her arms off on her apron with a laugh.

  “No worries. You’re doing great, just push the mix in downward circles. Oh, wait,” she says leaning over the bowl. I pause and look in the bowl, too, wondering what she’s investigating. She swipes her finger on the flour clinging to the edge of the bowl and fast as lightning, wipes it across my nose and cheek. My mouth falls open in surprise and she steps back with a giggle. “Okay, all better now. Continue stirring.” She has the offending index finger between her teeth. Maybe she sees the look in my eyes because she backs up even further.

  “Oh, no, no, no. You know what they say about payback, right?” I reach in the flour container, grab a handful and walk toward her, slowly. She puts her hands up in front of her.

  “No, don’t do it!” She says as I dart forward and grab her around her waist before she can escape. She squeals and tries to pull away but I bring my flour-full hand down on top of her head. It flies wildly about, covering both of us. We pause in shock for a moment as we take in each other’s white streaked faces. Her forehead, eyebrows and shoulders are patched with white, her baby blues are barely visible. She’s still in my arms as we both dissolve into hysterical laughter. Her laugh is real and it’s perfect. This is the Emma I’ve been wanting to see. I lean in closer, soaking it up, aching to touch my lips to hers. My hand comes up and my thumb brushes her cheek lightly, she leans into my touch. Her lips part and her eyes drop to my mouth. It’s unmistakable now, she definitely wants to kiss me, too. Before I can close the short distance between us, a throat clearing halts me. Emma’s barely visible cheeks flush pink and she straightens up, pulling out of my arms before she turns around. Jack and mini-Jack are turned around on their knees, on the couch.

  “Can’t you get a room after you feed us? We’re starving over here,” Jack informs us. He elbows the mini, who nods a little too vigorously. As if he’s never seen two girls covered in flour about to kiss in his kitchen before.

  “Hey, Jack,” I say, pretending to scratch my forehead with my middle finger out. He doesn’t miss it so he winks at me and turns back around. Emma is already dashing around the kitchen with a wet towel, trying to clean up our mess. “Here, Em, give me the towel, I’ll clean this up while you finish cooking.” She nods, not meeting my eyes and hands it over. I watch her wistfully for a few heartbeats. Her fingers start the heat on the griddle and expertly mix the pancakes. When she starts the bacon on the stove in a big frying pan, I turn back to my task.

  Just as I am finally done wiping and sweeping every surface clean, a tall man with a thick head of graying hair, steps through the sliding door off to the side of the family room. He’s wearing an armband, jogging shorts, and a sweaty long sleeved blue t-shirt.

  “Hey, kids,” he says. He ruffs up Jack’s hai r as he walks by and then he sees me. “Oh, hello there. You must be Brooke. I’m the dad, call me Dave.” He leans over the counter and stretches his hand over to me and I give it a firm shake. Seeing him up close confirms where Jack got his green eyes and build. Dave doesn’t seem to be phased by my piercings or the tattoos poking out of my sleeves and on my hand, in fact, he maintains his eye contact and cheerful smile.

  “That’s me. Nice to meet you. Thank you for letting me crash the family breakfast. You really have a beautiful home,” I say and return the smile.

  “Oh, please, the more the merrier. And the house is all Gail’s doing. I think she’s painting in the garage. I’ll send her in to meet you.” He heads around the counter toward the back of the kitchen, passing a long shiny brown table and then he’s out of sight.

  I turn back to Emma and watch her flipping pancakes. Naturally, they’re perfectly golden brown. She looks over her shoulder at me and catches me watching her.

  “Want to set the table?” she points the spatula toward a cabinet two down from her head.

  “On it,” I tell her. I grab a stack of plates and set them on the table. I notice that every chair at the table is different, at least slightly. Some are shorter backed, with more curls in the design and some are taller and more modern in shape but they all have a different colored cushion on them. It’s quirky. I like it . “Where’s the silverware?” I ask Emma as I inspect the kitchen’s layout.

  She points to the drawer below the cabinet that had the plates, this time using a pair of tongs as she pulls bacon from the frying pan and setting them on some paper towels and loading up the pan again. The pan is sizzling like crazy and the bacon smell is making my stomach growl. When the table is set, she instructs me to start cracking eggs into a bowl.

  “Are you okay with scrambled?” she asks.

  “It’s the only kind I eat. Mostly because it’s the only kind I can make, but that’s not important.” She smirks at that and moves more pancakes onto a large platter. She lets me help with the arduous task of cooking the eggs. When everything is finished, we bring it all over to the center of the table.

  “Looks great, Emma. I can’t wait to eat,” I state honestly.

  “Thank you, I couldn’t have done it without your help. High five,” she says and holds up her palm. We high five and I see her glance at the boys. “Want to see something funny?”

  I look over my shoulder at them still deep in their video game and turn back with a big grin, “Hell yes, I do.” She walks over to the freezer and pulls two half moon ice cubes from within. She uses her ninja skills and sneaks up behind them. I can tell they have no idea what’s coming as she shoves a cube in the back of their shirts. Their reaction is instant, they jump off the couch, all flailing limbs and high pitched screams. Emma collapses to the floor in a fit of laughter. Mini-Jack is hopping around still using his arm to try to shake it out of his shirt but Jack has already gotten his out.

  “So, breakfast is ready, then?” Jack asks Emma as leans over the back of the couch and glares at her. She is still on the floor holding her stomach. Mini-Jack is finally free of the cube, so he shuts down the game and sets their controllers and headsets on the side table. As he passes around the back of the couch he leans down and offers his hand to help her up. Her laughter dies down as she stares at mini-Jack’s hand skeptically. He still hasn’t said anything but she decides to grab his hand anyway. As he pulls her up, Jack leaps over the couch and sticks his ice cube in the back of her shirt. I crack up as she hops around shaking her shirt out.

  “Ah! Cold, cold! Yes, breakfast is ready, you heathens,” she announces. She throws the mostly melted ice cube in the sink and gives me a wink as she passes me to grab the pot of coffee.

  “Hey. I’m Thomas,” mini-Jack says to me with a nod.

  “I’m Brooke. Nice to meet you.” He follows his dad’s earlier path and hollers that breakfast is ready. Jack grabs a stack of mugs from a cabinet and a jug of orange juice before sitting down at the table. Before anyone else can take a seat, Jack starts shoving pancakes and bacon onto his plate. Emma and I pull off our filthy aprons and she sits down, patting the seat next to her. She looks up at me and smiles.

  “Sit down, Brooke,” she directs me. So I do. Jack is sitting across the table from Emma and Thomas
is sitting across from me, serving himself from the platter of eggs. Dave and Gail join us and I notice that she’s tall but not quite as tall as the boys. She has shoulder length blonde hair with streaks of gray running through it. She’s wearing an oversized button down jean shirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbow. The shirt and her jeans are splattered with paint of every color. Dave looks freshly showered and in a fresh pair of khaki shorts with a blue polo tucked into it. They look so much like a family that a tiny ping of longing echoes through my chest.

  “Gail, this here is Brooke,” he says as he indicates me. I wave hello to her.

  “Oh, pleasure to have you here Brooke. I’m outnumbered with these boys, so it’s great to have another woman here.” She passes me by and pats my shoulder. She sits on one end of the table, while Dave takes the other.

  “I like how we’re ‘boys’ yet you three are ‘women’.” Dave mumbles as he brings the fruit bowl closer to his plate. “Injustices,” he mutters as he bites into a pineapple chunk.

  “Yeah, what’s that about, Mom? I’m devastated. Do you want to teach your children such blatant chauvinism?” Jack asks her with an anguished look.

  “Oh, please! How about this? Eat your breakfast. And when I see you eat some fruit before another piece of bacon, I’ll call you a man.” Gail throws back at him. Jack grabs the bowl of fruit from his dad and pops a grape into his mouth. He suddenly pushes his chair back and knocks it over.

  “I.. feel.. strange. What is the sensation? It tingles.. Oh my..” He flexes an arm. “I think.. yes, it’s happening.” He flexes both arms. “Mom, say it.”

  “Oh, sweet lord. Fine, you’re a man now. Can you cut out the theatrics while we have a guest?” She says while laughing.

  “Hey, wait, admit I’m one, too,” Dave demands.

  “You’re all men, I’m sorry I ever mistook you for boys. It’s so clear to me now how wrong I’ve been. Pass me the bowl, Jack, oh manly one,” she says reverently. Jack hands the bowl to Thomas who is rolling his eyes and hands it to his mom. As we eat, the dynamic between them is fascinating to observe. Their love for each other is so evident and Gail and Dave accepted me right away. I watch them all focusing on their plates and I peek over at Emma, but she’s already watching me. I don’t know if she can read the wonder on my face but she reaches her hand under the table and finds mine. She gives it a quick squeeze before returning to her plate. Everyone compliments us on the breakfast and happily chats away. I learn that Thomas is in high school, where Dave coaches football, and is very focused on his alt rock band. He sings, plays guitar, and is teaching himself the keyboard. Gail is an artist of every kind, she paints, she makes pottery, and she carves wood. I ask her about the chairs and she tells me she made them herself and I decide she is probably the coolest person on earth.

  They ask me tons of questions about what my interests are and where I’m from and before I know it, I’m spilling information I would never have thought to tell people I just met. They’re not doing it in a nosy way, but I can tell they are genuinely interested in my story. So, I end up sharing with them all about my love for computers and photography. Thomas asks me about the websites I’ve designed and tells me that he loves computers. He wants me to teach him a few tricks. Eventually, they learn that I’m from the south and that I haven’t talked to my family in years.

  “Wow, the South. Your family is still there? But you don’t talk to them?” Gail asks me curiously.

  “Yeah, as far as I know they are, but no I don’t talk to them.” I inhale deeply and answer what they’re going to ask next. “I was seventeen when I came out. I was secretly dating a girl in my high school and I was madly in love. I knew my parents would be upset, but I thought they loved me enough that they would accept it, at least in time. I was young, the feelings were so intense, raw and beautiful, that I didn’t want to hide them. As it turns out, I was the only one to see it that way, because I came out to them one night and it went... terribly. They were shocked and disgusted and they said horrible things. I packed a bag that night and moved in with my girlfriend. I stayed with her for the last three months of high school, but I felt like I didn’t belong there anymore. I moved on and I haven’t seen them since.” Somewhere in the middle of that, Emma’s hand found mine again and this time, she didn’t let it go. Gail cleared her throat.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, Brooke. That must have been very difficult. I don't understand that reaction, but every parent is different. But still, I imagine they love you very much and miss you. Have you tried reaching out to them again?” Gail asks. Her eyes are kind and I can feel her empathy.

  “No, I haven’t. I might eventually, but I’m not ready yet. I made a promise to myself when I left home that I would always be true to myself and I wouldn’t hide or be ashamed of who I am. That’s been my focus these past few years,” I share.

  “I see. Well, just so we’re clear, in this house, we believe all love is equal,” Gail says. She looks to Emma when she does and I see the slight nod she gives her. Emma quickly ducks her head, eyes facing her lap. Finally she nods and Gail seems to accept that as some sort of mutual understanding. She changes the subject by asking Jack what movie he picked for today.

  “Well, the theme this week seems to be lesbian, so I googled lesbian movies and the first one I found was Imagine Me and You. I checked it out and… well, it looked super boring, so I rented Die Hard instead,” Jack replies, looking happy with himself. That gets a groan from Emma and a fist bump from Thomas. Dave laughs at his son as he stands up.

  “Well, I’m headed into the office. You crazy kids enjoy the movie. Ladies, thanks again for breakfast.” He goes around the back of the table, pecks Gail on the forehead, and then sets his dishes in the sink as he passes through the kitchen toward the front of the house. I check the time on my phone, it’s a little after nine.

  “Well, that was another wonderful breakfast. I’m going to head back out to the studio. Just give me a shout if you need anything. Boys.. I mean men , you are on dish duty today.” She gives them a stern look that really isn’t very stern at all. I can tell that they get away with just about anything with her. But they nod and let her kiss their cheeks as she crosses behind them. Emma pushes back from the table, letting my hand go and picking up her plate.

  “Are you finished?” she asks pointing to my plate.

  “Yeah, but I got it.” I follow her lead as she sets hers in the sink. She hooks her arm around mine and drags me to the couches. She gets the t.v. and movie ready before sitting next to me.

  “You okay?” she asks quietly.

  “Yeah, this has been great, really. Sorry for the overshare, though.”

  “No, don’t be. I like how open you are. I am sorry about your parents,” she says, her face full of concern.

  “It’s alright. It happens. Sadly, I’ve talked to so many people that have faced the same reactions I have. It hurts, but I can’t change who I am and, honestly, I don’t want to.” She nods and I realize how close she’s sitting. Something else is on my mind, so I face her and my heart starts pounding against my ribcage. Here goes . “Would you go on a date with me?”

  7

  Emmaline

  “Would you go on a date with me?” Brooke asks me as we sit on the couch.

  I can hear the Jack and Tommy moaning and groaning about having to do the dishes in the dining room. My palms are sweaty and I want to say yes to her. I do. But I’ve never even been on a date, I’ve never let myself pretend I could. I definitely never considered I would be dating a girl. Just that thought alone sends a thrill through me. Besides, I just never take nights off. When I’m not at work, I’m reading textbooks and finishing papers. It’s not financially responsible to take time off work; I have bills and I’m trying so hard to save money for my dream restaurant. Still, I really like Brooke. Would one date really throw my entire plan off track? It’s just a date.

  “Yes. I would love to,” I finally answer with a smile. “But first, you really need a
shower. You have flour all over you,” I point out with a snicker.

  “Me? You should see yourself!” She counters. I get up and head into the half bath tucked under the stairs. When I flip on the light and see myself, I gasp in horror. There is flour all over my hair, forehead, cheeks, and eyelashes. Plus a ton clinging to the frizz that is my hair. I step back out and cross my arms at the elbows..

  “How could you let me eat breakfast like this? Why didn’t anyone say anything? I look like an albino mouse!” I exclaim in dismay.

  “A very adorable albino mouse. Really, you just looked too cute like that. Can you wear that all the time? Can you go on our date like that? It’s really working for me.” She’s laughing at me again as she gets up and comes into the bathroom. Her wicked smile drops when she sees herself in the mirror. “Oh my word, my hair. Look at this… I think it mixed with my gel and made plaster!”

  I laugh at her horror and I grab two towels from the linen closet. While Jack and Tom do the dishes, we try to clean ourselves up. I’ll look presentable enough for work, at least. My hair is probably going to need three washes to get the flour detached from my scalp though. I do believe I’ll think twice before starting a food fight with Brooke again. She’s vicious.

  We’re settling back onto the couch when Jack and Tom join us for the movie. Sadly, I won’t get to watch all of it because I need to leave for work. It occurs to me that I’ll miss Brooke. She makes me feel things, excitingly alive yet comfortable, and that comfort makes me feel bolder somehow, braver. It’s a weird mix I don’t fully understand, but it’s highly addictive.