SATURDAY MORNING

I woke up to Mom singing in the shower. I smiled. Dad had told me about that. Mom always sung in the shower, but I had never gotten to hear it. The bathroom, which was across the hall from me, was all tiles so the song echoed and easily made its way to my ears. She was singing a slow tune that sounded beautiful. She was using her Scottish accent as she sang, and as she did, I realized it was a Scottish song.  The song was sad and nostalgic, describing Scotland as if someone was leaving. I recognized the tune and some of the words slightly, but I didn’t know how. I closed my eyes again, listening to the song and afraid I would fall asleep. I got up quietly, going over to my dresser and pulling on my clothes for the day. Dad called me from the living room just as the shower water shut off and Mom finished the last line. I walked out, grabbing the letter as I went. I walked into the living room, expecting some blonde woman wearing short pajama shorts and a tank top, but all that met my eyes was my Dad in his flannel pajama pants and Superman t-shirt, and Amy in her little pink nightgown. I smiled and we exchanged our good mornings. I sat next to Dad and lay down on his lap, hugging the letter to my chest and waiting for Mom.

She came out, smiling and her bright brown eyes shining with happiness. Her shoulder-length red hair was still wet and it dripped every once in a while, making the sleeves of her green shirt wet. Dad immediately stood up, kissing her and taking her hand to lead her into the kitchen. I stood up, grabbed Amy’s hand and followed. She sucked her thumb as she walked and I looked fondly down at her. Dad had made a huge breakfast of fried eggs, bacon, bananas, chocolate-chip waffles, and strawberry milk. Mom gushed at the sight and exclaimed over and over that this was her favorite. We sat down and ate as a proper family for the first time in over four years.