I look forward to our Friday pizza nights.
Who knew I was that into little traditions like this? Because if something comes up and we have to rearrange our dinner plans, I’m pretty disappointed. So, these nights are a must for me.
We’ve had Friday pizza nights for as far back as I can remember. I’m sure that has a lot to do with it.
We used to make our own pies at one point, I remember. My mum said that pizza nights all started because Jonathan had a pizza kit fundraiser one year. And because we just moved to the area, he didn’t have anyone to sell to. So, my mum decided to buy his entire fundraiser quota, which we made for our dinner for the next few Friday nights, and it just stuck. Voilá, Friday became pizza night.
It is almost dinner time on a Friday, and I’m sitting at the kitchen table, folding the dinner napkins. Usually, Jonathan and I take turns setting the table, but I’m on my own tonight.
He joined the school newspaper as its photographer and is attending the game to take pictures, so he’ll be late for dinner. That means it’s just me and my mum for now. Dad has the job of getting the pizza each week, and he should be here with the main course soon.
So there’s always some kind of salad or vegetable, and dessert.
Tonight, Mum has jazz playing on the stereo and a tomato caprese salad on the table. I like the music, but this type of salad is not my personal favorite, so I made myself a little green salad instead.
She’s at the sink washing the strawberries we picked this week at the local farm. She wants to make a strawberry shortcake with the honey vanilla ice cream and the pound cake she bought earlier. As hungry as I am for the pizza that’s on the way, I think I’m looking forward to eating dessert more.
Dad walks in holding the pizza box up high on the tips of his fingers with a big smile across his face, saying, “Who’s ready to eat?”
He slides past my mum and places the pizza in the oven to keep things warm until we’re ready. He begins to scooch past my mum again, but stops directly behind her and gives a few kisses. She giggles, and he begins to whisper in her ear. They give each other this little attention all the time, which I love for them, but I don’t want them to forget that I’m still sitting here, either, so I tell them to get a room and add, “You do know you guys are gross, right?”
They laugh at my antics and separate. My mum puts the strawberries on the counter, pours him a beer, and my dad turns on the faucet to wash his hands. He half-jokingly announces that the police know his name now. This stops my mum, frozen. She just stands there, glaring at him.
He grabs a strawberry, turns, and winks at me as he pops it in his mouth.
“Your last name or your full name?” she asks.
“Full name.”
“I’m sorry, what?” she asks, and I can hear the agitation in her voice.
“Yeah, it was unexpected,” he says.
“So (sigh). What was it this time? What did you do?” she asks as she puts his glass on the counter and her hand on her hip.
He gives a little laugh before saying, “I wasn’t doing anything but minding my business.”
She scoffs.
Switching his tone to more serious, he says, “Let me tell you what happened first before you start acting like that.”
“Acting like what, War? Acting like you don’t do this to us every. single. time?”
“Babe, please, it’s not like that.”
“Right, because I haven’t bloody heard that before.”
And just like that, pizza night is over.
Not wanting to hear any of it, I take my sad little salad, go upstairs, close my door, and put my music on. I hear them arguing for a long time. I was starving. Any other time, I would ignore the yelling and go on as if nothing was happening, but this one is different. I decide not to go back downstairs; it is that bad. So I end up just falling asleep waiting for them to stop. I don’t know what time Jonathan came home, but I did hear someone try knocking on my door, but I just ignored them and went back to sleep for the night.
When I wake up the next morning, no one is home but me.
I don’t know where anyone is, so I putz around the house half expecting someone to pop home. They don’t.
I get bored being home by myself around 2:00 pm, and since I don’t drive yet, I decide to pack myself a lunch, gather some art supplies, and go exploring for the rest of the afternoon.
I’ve been in the kitchen more, so I’m pleased with myself when I finish making a tasty little chicken salad sandwich. I’m so pleased, in fact, that I make two to go and a half to eat on the spot.
I grab some grapes, some chips, a slice of the pound cake that I didn’t get a chance to eat last night, and a few strawberries.
I pack water for me to drink and water for me to use when painting, in case that’s what I decide to do later. I grab two tablets: one for drawing and one for painting. Grab some colored chalk, my watercolor set, and charcoal pencils.
Just as I’m about to head out the door, I remember to grab a small throw, my mini speaker, and solar charger.
I decide that I am not in the mood to interact with anyone, so I go behind the old courthouse into the woods. I walk straight back for a while before I hear water. I stop and listen. Yep, water. I walk towards the sound, and I come up to a beautiful clearing with a short waterfall that creates a small pond that turns into a smaller creek. It’s beautiful here.
I decide this is where I’m going to settle.
I lay out my throw, pull out my speaker, spread out my art supplies, and then just sit.
I’m in a mood and can’t explain it. I don’t want to listen to music; I don’t want to paint; I don’t want to draw. I don’t want to do anything, so I just sit there in my thoughts.
I realize that I’m staring at this big rock next to the water when I snap out of the daze I was in. Thinking it’s a perfect spot to sit, I grab my lunch, go to the rock, take off my shoes, and sit with my feet dangling in the water.
I take a deep breath and take in the beauty that surrounds me.
I close my eyes and think about what happened last night.
The quickness with which my parents went from love & happiness, to anger & hate has me stuck. It was like I blinked for half a second and everything changed.
Not like I’ve never heard them argue before, but this one is different, and I’m stumped. I can’t shake the feeling that things will forever be different, but can’t explain why.
I give out a heavy sigh. I now understand what’s going on with me; I’m sad…and that makes me more sad if that makes any kind of sense.
I look around and see the food I brought over with me. “Ooh, that’s right, my sandwiches,” I say, out loud to myself. I grab one, begin eating as I start kicking my feet in the water, and this gives me a bit of peace as I sit in my thoughts.
*Image: Fresh Made Chopped Strawberries… iStock / By HandmadePictures