v.

not that mick hadn't come to your house unnoticed before, but you'd appreciate him to text you beforehand and tell you when he'll be arriving.

     you have just finished with your late breakfast when you hear someone knocking on your front door. you exchange looks with annie who is preparing your father's lunch opposite you. while you freeze in your seat, annie freezes in front of you.

     "do we expect any visitors today?"

     "oh, uh-huh," you reply guiltily. you forgot to tell annie that mick is coming over today. and though gina often comes to your house after her training at your neighbour's stable, she'll use the backdoor. "i think that's mick."

     "mick? the schumacher?"

     "yes, mick the schumacher. do we have other mick?"

     "why didn't you tell me he's coming over?" annie quickly tidies up the mess on the kitchen table. "i didn't prepare anything."

     "and i haven't taken my shower!" the banter between you and annie almost looks like you're having an argument with an aunt you never had. while your father is sitting still in the family area as if he didn't hear anything at the front door, you say, "that's fine, annie. i'll help you cook. it's just mick, anyway."

     "just mick? just mick?"

     you ignore annie soon after and go to answer the front door. only then you realise that mick isn't alone. a beaming gina is one step behind mick's shoulder. while mick is wearing a jumper and jeans, gina is wearing a button-up shirt tucked into her trousers and her trousers are tucked into her horse-riding boots. the usual.

     "were you at the schmidt's the whole morning?"

     schmidt is your neighbour. the one with the horse stable where all three of you--not including schmidt's children--used to play when you were kids while the fathers would be watching over you, drinking coffees (because you can't get drunk around kids) and talking. sometimes they'd be working on an old tractor that they know was not going to work.

     gina chuckles. "do you mind if i use your bathroom. i--"

     "yeah, yeah, go ahead. you know where the bathroom is," you answer as you watch gina takes a seat on a wooden chair at your porch. "everything's good with the horses?"

     "uh-huh," gina answers as she works on her boots. the boot is too tall. there are just so many laces to take off. you don't understand how gina can be so patient with them. "they missed you." 

     you could not answer.

     gina leaves her boots outside, enters your house without any more words, leaving mick in confusion as he watches his older sister treating your house like hers.

     "is she always like that?"

     you smile guiltily.

     "how come you're still close with her and not with me?"

     "i--" you bite your lower lip, struggling to find an answer that doesn't hurt him. "i guess it's easier when you're always home."

     mick doesn't like that sound. because it feels like you're insulting him. because as far as he's concern, he's home as much as he can when there's no race. his manager tries to accept less interviews, appointments, photoshoots, to free his schedule and let him home because his manager understands mick's family situation. and when he's home, he is home.

     maybe it's your fault that you didn't see mick when he's home. not like you don't know when. annie will always know. gina will always tell you. corinna would invite you to come over for dinner whenever mick is home. but you will always try to find an excuse to avoid meeting mick.

     so, yes, it is your fault, but not like you're going to admit it.

     mick enters your house and the sense of familiarity hits him. every precious moment he created with you in the house while he was a little boy, hits his memory core. like the kitchen where you'd all eat cereal despite it being pass breakfast time; the silly arts you and mick drew on the wall with crayons are still there; then there's the living room where all of you used to watch cartoons. your father traveled a lot when he was a ferrari mechanic but somehow always manage to reserve this old house for the sake of the memories.

     mick says nothing as he enters your house until when he sees your father sitting on the single chair, staring into nothing. he glances at you. sure he knew about your father's condition. he saw your father himself last week, but he didn't expect it could be this bad.

     "don't worry. he's always like that since--you know." you shrug.

     "oh." mick nods his head. "um, mum told me you take him on a walk?"

     "in the evening, usually. i--uh--i usually wakes up late on my off-day." the tone of your voice sounds guilty.

     as if somethng clicks in his mind, mick's eyes catch an abandoned set of bowl and mug on your kitchen island. "you just finished your breakfast, aren't you?"

     you sheepishly smile at him. mick and his family are early risers. maybe it's in their genes. maybe because they're used to their schedule as athletes. it was really not a surprise for you though.

     "good morning, herr erberhardt," mick greets your father soon after taking a seat in front of him whie you on your father's side. his voice  was so calm. it soothes every inch of your system. it makes you forget your fears.

    when your father looks at mick, there is 'this' similiar confusion every time he looks at you. "who are you?"

     "i'm mick," your best friend answers. "michael's son."

     "who's michael?"

     "schumacher. michael schumacher your best friend."

     something in the way mick introduces his father to your father as best friends makes your heart melts and your throat stings. maybe you're just being sensitive about it when it's nothing, really.

     mick quickly pulls out his mobile phone. he taps on photos folder, scrolls a little bit, then picks one picture before showing it to your father. you lean closer to look at the picture.

     "see. this is him. the one on the right. and this is you. it was both of your last day with ferrari."

     "wait a minute," you didn't mean to interrupt mick, but you just have to. "isn't this was where--"

     "yeah." mick laughs, but when he continues telling the stories, he was mainly talking to your father. "i wasn't allowed to stay while you didn't allow your daughter to come with you to brasil. not saying that you're mean or anything, but the only reason where neither of your allowed us to be there at the garage was because you didn't want us to see you getting drunk and stupids."

     mick laughs again. it seems like a beautiful memory to him though you wish you know why. it could be your good memory as well because you remember you father coming home with lots of gifts from brasil that you still have in a big box in the garage. if you knew about this when you were still a child, you know you'd shout at your father. good thing you only know this now.

     it looks like mick doesn't care at all that your father doesn't remember anything he's telling. mick keeps his composure well. and you couldn't help but wonder if this is because of what happened to his father. michael was sick when he was only 14. when you were 14, you still had your father to help you with you guitar.

     gina comes into the living room, smelling like your shower gel and hair shampoo, when mick is telling a story about him and sebastian. and you excuse yourself to take a shower. and you could've missed mick glancing at you if you hadn't turn towards them at the living room.