Post by Gavyn Colburn on Oct 12, 2022 10:25:31 GMT -5
"Pick up, pick up, please, oh God. Molly! Pick up!"
The despair was painfully evident in Gavyn's whispered whine as he pinned the phone between his shoulder and ear; freeing both his hands for their frantic rip through his kitchen cupboards. He'd already cleared every single box from the shelves but had turned up nothing in his desperate hunt for that tell-tale blue and yellow variety. How could he be out of macaroni and cheese? It was all he ever cooked when Aaron dropped by for a night of video games.
At the immediately recognizable, almost mechanical tone that was his sister's recorded voice — her damned voicemail, again — Gavyn could have screamed. "I don't know what to do!" He shouted without greeting as soon as the beep cleared him for his message. He pushed from his kitchen counter and scrubbed a hand over his face as he reluctantly moved across the floor and retreated to the dining area — putting just a bit of distance between him and the screeching children in the living room. "I've tried everything, Molly! They won't stop screaming!" Lowering his voice, he cast a weary look over his shoulder and sneered into his phone. "You said this would be easy! I'm never babysitting for you again!"
Ending the call, Gavyn pocketed his phone and stepped back across the kitchen and into the attached living room, his eyes widening with something that was almost fear as he faced his two nieces. The younger rolled on the ground, kicking her feet into his entertainment center as tears rolled fat and endless down her cheeks and into her tangled hair. The other was seated crosslegged on his couch, her arms bent over her chest and her head ducked in a fierce, cutting glower. Gavyn wanted to turn right back around and he envied his pets — who had the luxury of tucking themselves away or hiding beneath his bed.
"Okay.... girls," Gavyn tried softly, tone imploring, and the younger immediately responded by hitching her wails even louder; feet kicking even harder. Blinking hard, he stepped further into the living room and attempted to address the quieter one. "I looked again and still didn't find any. But I can make some sp—"
"Uncle Gab!" She cut him off and Gavyn decided, then and there, that he never wanted a child in his life. "I want!" The girl's demanding voice leaped three octaves at once and he winced at the unexpected jump in both volume and pitch. "Macaroni! And. CHEESE!" Gavyn buried his face into his hands and twirled around with a loud, grumbling groan. It didn't make sense! How the hell had his sister managed to raise such brats? If he or his siblings had acted like this when they were children, his mother would have slapped them straight across the face! "I know!" Gavyn cried back, losing his cool as he tossed out his hands in a wide, dramatic gesture for his niece. "I know you want macaroni and cheese! You've told me! But," he straightened and tried just one more time to appeal to the child, though the past hour had taught him well enough that any attempt was futile. "I don't!" he laughed, breathless and exasperated, "I don't have any!"
The younger girl, still rolling and still crying, did not like this new tone. She pushed herself across the floor and, before Gavyn could rack his brain for a solution, she kicked out her little foot straight to his shin. "Okay! Okay!" Gavyn gritted out, completely oblivious to the pain but still aware that it was rude. And surely crossing a line. "Okay, we're going," he decided, before scooping up the squirming little girl and tucking her — kicking and screaming — on his hip. Taking a step forward, he wrapped a hand around the older's arm and eased her from the couch before cutting a quick, struggling stride through his living room, across the kitchen, and to the front door. Marky Mark — keeping tabs on the situation, but at a very safe distance — trotted from the doorway of Gavyn's room to fall at his owner's heels as he pulled open the door and peeked down the hall. The niece on his hip beat at his chest with tiny fists and Gavyn shifted her weight and stifled a curse when Marky Mark shot out the door before he could get it closed behind him.
Wasting no time, he moved down the hallway — regretting not slipping into slippers as the cheap apartment complex — once a University hall — had absolutely filthy floors, littered all over with stains that'd gone long-uncleaned. He couldn't even begin to think what all his neighbors were thinking and he tried recalling whether or not he could get evicted for something like this, as he turned and released the older girl's hand to rap his knuckles hard against the first door. Please, please open up. Please, please be home. Please, please know what the fuck to do.
The door opened and the words fell quick and desperate from Gavyn's mouth, even as hope filtered across his twisted, pleading features. "Oh, thank God. I'm so sorry, but do you have any macar—" He flinched as the girl butted her head, with a defiant 'hmmph', hard into his chin. Took a small victory in knowing it must have hurt her while he, himself, felt nothing. Let that be her lesson. "Please tell me you have macaroni and cheese. I can't go to a grocery store and you see, I'm really hurting for some pasta."
The despair was painfully evident in Gavyn's whispered whine as he pinned the phone between his shoulder and ear; freeing both his hands for their frantic rip through his kitchen cupboards. He'd already cleared every single box from the shelves but had turned up nothing in his desperate hunt for that tell-tale blue and yellow variety. How could he be out of macaroni and cheese? It was all he ever cooked when Aaron dropped by for a night of video games.
At the immediately recognizable, almost mechanical tone that was his sister's recorded voice — her damned voicemail, again — Gavyn could have screamed. "I don't know what to do!" He shouted without greeting as soon as the beep cleared him for his message. He pushed from his kitchen counter and scrubbed a hand over his face as he reluctantly moved across the floor and retreated to the dining area — putting just a bit of distance between him and the screeching children in the living room. "I've tried everything, Molly! They won't stop screaming!" Lowering his voice, he cast a weary look over his shoulder and sneered into his phone. "You said this would be easy! I'm never babysitting for you again!"
Ending the call, Gavyn pocketed his phone and stepped back across the kitchen and into the attached living room, his eyes widening with something that was almost fear as he faced his two nieces. The younger rolled on the ground, kicking her feet into his entertainment center as tears rolled fat and endless down her cheeks and into her tangled hair. The other was seated crosslegged on his couch, her arms bent over her chest and her head ducked in a fierce, cutting glower. Gavyn wanted to turn right back around and he envied his pets — who had the luxury of tucking themselves away or hiding beneath his bed.
"Okay.... girls," Gavyn tried softly, tone imploring, and the younger immediately responded by hitching her wails even louder; feet kicking even harder. Blinking hard, he stepped further into the living room and attempted to address the quieter one. "I looked again and still didn't find any. But I can make some sp—"
"Uncle Gab!" She cut him off and Gavyn decided, then and there, that he never wanted a child in his life. "I want!" The girl's demanding voice leaped three octaves at once and he winced at the unexpected jump in both volume and pitch. "Macaroni! And. CHEESE!" Gavyn buried his face into his hands and twirled around with a loud, grumbling groan. It didn't make sense! How the hell had his sister managed to raise such brats? If he or his siblings had acted like this when they were children, his mother would have slapped them straight across the face! "I know!" Gavyn cried back, losing his cool as he tossed out his hands in a wide, dramatic gesture for his niece. "I know you want macaroni and cheese! You've told me! But," he straightened and tried just one more time to appeal to the child, though the past hour had taught him well enough that any attempt was futile. "I don't!" he laughed, breathless and exasperated, "I don't have any!"
The younger girl, still rolling and still crying, did not like this new tone. She pushed herself across the floor and, before Gavyn could rack his brain for a solution, she kicked out her little foot straight to his shin. "Okay! Okay!" Gavyn gritted out, completely oblivious to the pain but still aware that it was rude. And surely crossing a line. "Okay, we're going," he decided, before scooping up the squirming little girl and tucking her — kicking and screaming — on his hip. Taking a step forward, he wrapped a hand around the older's arm and eased her from the couch before cutting a quick, struggling stride through his living room, across the kitchen, and to the front door. Marky Mark — keeping tabs on the situation, but at a very safe distance — trotted from the doorway of Gavyn's room to fall at his owner's heels as he pulled open the door and peeked down the hall. The niece on his hip beat at his chest with tiny fists and Gavyn shifted her weight and stifled a curse when Marky Mark shot out the door before he could get it closed behind him.
Wasting no time, he moved down the hallway — regretting not slipping into slippers as the cheap apartment complex — once a University hall — had absolutely filthy floors, littered all over with stains that'd gone long-uncleaned. He couldn't even begin to think what all his neighbors were thinking and he tried recalling whether or not he could get evicted for something like this, as he turned and released the older girl's hand to rap his knuckles hard against the first door. Please, please open up. Please, please be home. Please, please know what the fuck to do.
The door opened and the words fell quick and desperate from Gavyn's mouth, even as hope filtered across his twisted, pleading features. "Oh, thank God. I'm so sorry, but do you have any macar—" He flinched as the girl butted her head, with a defiant 'hmmph', hard into his chin. Took a small victory in knowing it must have hurt her while he, himself, felt nothing. Let that be her lesson. "Please tell me you have macaroni and cheese. I can't go to a grocery store and you see, I'm really hurting for some pasta."
