July 4th

Today was a wonderful day. We had [most] of the family here with us to celebrate Independence Day.

Plenty of firecrackers and fireworks, food, and even some games for the kids. Although they usually just tend to scream and run around the house wreaking havoc.

My mother, the perfectionist she is, asked me earlier in the day to help decorate and set things up. I had happily agreed since I love to decorate.

After wrapping my long, wavy white hair in a red ribbon, I slipped into a weightless, knee-high dark blue dress.

'Perfect,' I remember thinking, glancing at my reflection in the full length mirror, 'all the colors of the day are present.' I grinned and closed the door to the oak wardrobe, feeling positive about the day ahead.

"Willow!" My mother said as I descended the stairs, "You look wonderful, dear. Now help me place these streamers, will you?" she asked, handing me the supplies as she walked out the back screen door, her heels clicking.

I smiled and nodded, the smell of hotdogs and burgers wafted in from the open windows, teasing my sense of smell. I reached for a red roll and a blue roll and hoisted myself up on the step ladder. I twisted the colored foil around the chandelier, letting a few of the streamers droop towards the floor.

Hopping off the step ladder, I noticed the bag of multi-colored balloons and blew those up too. I laughed, scooping up the plastic gold stars my mother insisted on buying. Grinning, I hung them up in a tasteful fashion around the house.

"Beautiful." My mother commented, surprising me. Her big brown eyes took in the decorated scene before she placed a hand on my shoulder and said, "Maybe one day you too can be in interior design." Before walking away.

"Thanks, mom. Maybe one day.. " I let the thought trail off because I had already lost her attention. As soon as I had it, and her approval, it was gone as quickly as it had came.

Did she really forget I was in school for something that has nothing to do with design of any kind? I honestly think she did.

Sometimes I really hate her for that. She acts as though I'm practically invisible until she needs something from me.

I sighed and followed her out the back door, positive she'd find more for me that she still needed my assistance with.

I was right.

"Willow, can you move those chairs over here? And then can you spread out the picnic tables a tad more? Oh! Don't forget the umbrellas!" She hustled around the side of the house, no doubt that she was going to get the umbrellas from the garage.

I organized the tables and chairs to perfection - an unwanted trait that probably came from my OCD fueled mother.

I sat on a bench to enjoy the cool breeze when I had heard voices floating closer, one of them belonging to my mother.

Walking into sight, I saw that my mom's older brother, my Uncle Scott, was wielding an almost exact replica of the umbrella my mother held in her hands.

I rolled my eyes, which my mother had somehow managed to notice.

"Knock it off, Willow," she firmly stated, not even glancing in my direction.

I blew the escaped bangs out of my face, exasperated.

"Everyone will be arriving soon, Willow. I expect you to be on your best behaviour."

I scoffed as my Uncle Scott sneered and said, "You're very best."

I could feel the look of disgust adorning my face and I quickly excused myself, not making eye contact as I ran back inside the house, collapsing into a kitchen chair and resting my head on my arms, facedown.

"Good morning, pumpkin," My father said, startling me as he reached into a cupboard, pulling out a mug and helping himself to coffee.

"Dad, hi. I didn't even hear you." I peeked up through my bangs at him.

"Can't blame you. Mom's had you up since... when? Crack of dawn? To help her get ready? I'd be tired too, sweetie." he said, pouring creamer into his coffee.

I smiled. If my mother was the ice, my father was the fire who could always warm me right up.

"Yeah," Was all I could say.

He sat across from me at the table, stirring his coffee with a spoon, "What's on your mind, sweetpea?"

"Uncle Scott," I whispered, my eyes lowering to the white oak table.

My father looked at me through narrowed eyes, "What about him?"

***

Authors Note

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the first entry. This is something new I'm working on and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't based on real life events. Obviously, not everything is true and real, but certain scenes, emotions, and aspects of the story will be. Also, names have been changed for the sake of privacy.

If you see any mistakes or even have any suggestions, please don't hesitate to send em' my way! I'm not perfect, so pls help ya girl out😙 don't forget to press that cute lil 🌟 if you're enjoying!