5 : Garlic Chicken Wings
I detoured upstairs to put down my bag. Wouldn’t want it in the way of my mother-daughter reunion. As I slinked silently into my room, bright yellow sunshine greeted me. Ah, what a wonderful view. I threw aside my bag carelessly and eagerly walked through the glass doors that lead to my terrace.
My white sofa-slash-lounge chair was still there, complete with Mum’s homemade, extra-cuddly, extra-colorful throw pillows. The quilt made for me by my grandma still covered the sofa’s back. It’s very comfortable, made of soft cotton fabric with patches of different shapes. There’s a big red heart at the center. I used to sleep outside during hot summer nights, or when Bridget and Anna are sleeping over, we like to hang out here and just talk all night. The sofa and the quilt are perfect for those moments.
A smile crept to my lips as I leaned on the rail and admired the view. It’s so peaceful here, so relaxing. I don’t know why only three months ago, I couldn’t wait to get out of here.
Clang!
I turned around and screamed just in time to see a bat coming down straight for my head. I screwed my eyes shut, waiting for the excruciating pain.
“Oh my god! Allanah!”
My brain didn’t register the voice at first. But as I opened one eye, I saw a middle-aged woman in a floral shirt tucked in beige pants, holding a bat over her head, poised to strike again.
It was Angie, my little brother’s nanny.
“Angie! What the-what do you think you’re doing?!”
“Al! Oh my, I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t recognize you! I just cleaned your room, you know dusts, and I know I shut the door when I left and I came back and it’s ajar and I saw someone standing there! I thought you were a burglar or something!”
She lowered the bat on the floor and lunged forward to give me an airtight hug.
“Angie, your bat didn’t kill me, but your hug will.”
She let go, chuckling, and moved a step backward to take a good look at me. I stroke a pose. And she laughed some more. I joined in, too.
Angie has been Kyle’s (my little brother) nanny since he was four months old. I was seven then, and she kind of nannied for both of us then. She’s a very nice woman, still single, but not irritable and uptight as all other middle-aged singles out there. She’s like our second mother.
Angie was hired then when my mum was still working. She quit work when Kyle turned 1, and resumed when he started first grade. Last year, Mum decided to open up her own business and work from home. It was a small business, a gift shop/flower shop in town. The income wasn’t as big as her salary, so she talked to Angie about letting her go. Kyle was so upset, so Angie said it was okay for her not to get any salary, as long as she’s allowed to stay with us, and maybe even help out with the household bills! She’s the nicest lady on earth, and she’s truly part of our family.
I extra like her because she gives me extra allowance when I’m short.
“A burglar? At 10 am in broad daylight?” I asked, sitting on the sofa.
“Well, I wasn’t wearing my glasses, and you can’t be too careful, right?”
She sat down beside me and wrapped her arms around my shoulder.
“So, how’s the big college girl? What’s it been like?”
“So-so. We got a pile of homework on our first day, but I’m managing. And I’ve got a nice roommate so everything’s pretty good. How’s everybody?”
As if on cue, my mum burst into the terrace, spatula in one hand.
“What’s all the noise? Allanah!”
“Hey, Mum.”
I got up and hugged her. She smelt of the garden and garlic fried chicken. Mmm.
“I was planning to surprise you. I guess I did, by the looks of it. Garlic fried chicken?”
“I got alarmed, more like. I was cooking and heard screaming from up here,” she replied, hugging even tighter than Angie did. What’s it with old people and bone-crushing hugs?
“Mum, air.”
I gasped for breath when she released me. Like Angie, she stepped back and scrutinized me.
“I see you’re still wearing that-that ratty thing-your shoes. What do you call it again?”
“These are Chuck Taylors, Mum. And they’re not ratty. They’re vintage.”
“More like Chuck-them-out-Taylors to me.”
Silence.
“It’s really good to see you, Mum,” I said. And it really did feel good seeing her. I can see her eyes watering, and I couldn’t help but feel mine prickling with tears, too. My mum and I are best of friends, and unlike all the other people who preferred the freedom of dorms to their homes, well, I prefer being with my mum, arguing with her about everything in the world. Call me a baby, fine, but I’m after all a small town girl.
Mum lunged for me again and locked me in her arms. But before I could tell her to let go, she held both hands up as if being confronted by the police.
“Alright, alright, no hugs then, big college girl. So, I know you’re coming ‘cause Bridget called me yesterday. I’m making garlic chicken wings for you to bring to the picnic.”
“I know your chicken wings will kick the crap out of Bridget’s cook’s gourmet food.”
The both of them agreed and we laughed as we made our way to the kitchen. There’s no better thing than eating fresh-from-the-pan garlic chicken wings made by my mum.
Or is there?
My white sofa-slash-lounge chair was still there, complete with Mum’s homemade, extra-cuddly, extra-colorful throw pillows. The quilt made for me by my grandma still covered the sofa’s back. It’s very comfortable, made of soft cotton fabric with patches of different shapes. There’s a big red heart at the center. I used to sleep outside during hot summer nights, or when Bridget and Anna are sleeping over, we like to hang out here and just talk all night. The sofa and the quilt are perfect for those moments.
A smile crept to my lips as I leaned on the rail and admired the view. It’s so peaceful here, so relaxing. I don’t know why only three months ago, I couldn’t wait to get out of here.
Clang!
I turned around and screamed just in time to see a bat coming down straight for my head. I screwed my eyes shut, waiting for the excruciating pain.
“Oh my god! Allanah!”
My brain didn’t register the voice at first. But as I opened one eye, I saw a middle-aged woman in a floral shirt tucked in beige pants, holding a bat over her head, poised to strike again.
It was Angie, my little brother’s nanny.
“Angie! What the-what do you think you’re doing?!”
“Al! Oh my, I’m so sorry! I-I didn’t recognize you! I just cleaned your room, you know dusts, and I know I shut the door when I left and I came back and it’s ajar and I saw someone standing there! I thought you were a burglar or something!”
She lowered the bat on the floor and lunged forward to give me an airtight hug.
“Angie, your bat didn’t kill me, but your hug will.”
She let go, chuckling, and moved a step backward to take a good look at me. I stroke a pose. And she laughed some more. I joined in, too.
Angie has been Kyle’s (my little brother) nanny since he was four months old. I was seven then, and she kind of nannied for both of us then. She’s a very nice woman, still single, but not irritable and uptight as all other middle-aged singles out there. She’s like our second mother.
Angie was hired then when my mum was still working. She quit work when Kyle turned 1, and resumed when he started first grade. Last year, Mum decided to open up her own business and work from home. It was a small business, a gift shop/flower shop in town. The income wasn’t as big as her salary, so she talked to Angie about letting her go. Kyle was so upset, so Angie said it was okay for her not to get any salary, as long as she’s allowed to stay with us, and maybe even help out with the household bills! She’s the nicest lady on earth, and she’s truly part of our family.
I extra like her because she gives me extra allowance when I’m short.
“A burglar? At 10 am in broad daylight?” I asked, sitting on the sofa.
“Well, I wasn’t wearing my glasses, and you can’t be too careful, right?”
She sat down beside me and wrapped her arms around my shoulder.
“So, how’s the big college girl? What’s it been like?”
“So-so. We got a pile of homework on our first day, but I’m managing. And I’ve got a nice roommate so everything’s pretty good. How’s everybody?”
As if on cue, my mum burst into the terrace, spatula in one hand.
“What’s all the noise? Allanah!”
“Hey, Mum.”
I got up and hugged her. She smelt of the garden and garlic fried chicken. Mmm.
“I was planning to surprise you. I guess I did, by the looks of it. Garlic fried chicken?”
“I got alarmed, more like. I was cooking and heard screaming from up here,” she replied, hugging even tighter than Angie did. What’s it with old people and bone-crushing hugs?
“Mum, air.”
I gasped for breath when she released me. Like Angie, she stepped back and scrutinized me.
“I see you’re still wearing that-that ratty thing-your shoes. What do you call it again?”
“These are Chuck Taylors, Mum. And they’re not ratty. They’re vintage.”
“More like Chuck-them-out-Taylors to me.”
Silence.
“It’s really good to see you, Mum,” I said. And it really did feel good seeing her. I can see her eyes watering, and I couldn’t help but feel mine prickling with tears, too. My mum and I are best of friends, and unlike all the other people who preferred the freedom of dorms to their homes, well, I prefer being with my mum, arguing with her about everything in the world. Call me a baby, fine, but I’m after all a small town girl.
Mum lunged for me again and locked me in her arms. But before I could tell her to let go, she held both hands up as if being confronted by the police.
“Alright, alright, no hugs then, big college girl. So, I know you’re coming ‘cause Bridget called me yesterday. I’m making garlic chicken wings for you to bring to the picnic.”
“I know your chicken wings will kick the crap out of Bridget’s cook’s gourmet food.”
The both of them agreed and we laughed as we made our way to the kitchen. There’s no better thing than eating fresh-from-the-pan garlic chicken wings made by my mum.
Or is there?
posted by Miss Lee @ 6:41 PM
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