Furry Humans

❝Brother and sister, together as friends, ready to face whatever life sends.❞

I was woken from slumber by the clinking of glass together, and shuffling of furniture on the lower level. Groaning at the thought of being woken up, I turn over, pressing a pillow to my ear as if to muffle the noise. When silence is heard, gradually, I drift back to sleep, internally trying to chase the dream I was pulled from when the sudden sound of glass shattering jolts me fully awake.

“Diana!” Dad’s voice calls out.

Wide-eyed, I shoot up, the covers pooling in my lap. Quickly slipping out of bed at the thought of something happening to mom, I nearly trip over the sheets on my rush to the door, swinging it open not without snatching up my pants from last night and slipping them up my legs in haste. My feet pound down against each step, descending down the steps in quick movements, soon rounding the corner to the kitchen wall, not after hitting my big toe on the edge of the wall.

I yelp with pain, the sharp throb in my foot causes me to hobble forward to a nearby counter where boxes lay on top. Rubbing my toe, I lift my head to spot Mom bent down picking up shards of glass that belonged to a plate, I think, with oven mitts while Dad stood above her with a broom and dustpan in separate hands.

“What happened? Everyone okay?” I ask in one breath, looking over their bodies for any injuries.

Dad glances my way, a smile stretching across his lips.

“Everything’s fine, your Mom was just being clumsy and dropped her favorite plate while unboxing,” he chuckles, shifting his attention.

“Come on sweetie, get up, I’ll get it. You shouldn’t be bending down,” he tells her, changing his hold of the broom to his other head while helping mom stand to her feet.

“My mother gave that to me,” she croaked, sniffling as a tear slips down her cheek.

She wipes under her eyes with the mitts before taking them off, Dad taking over as he swept the remnants of the plate into the dustpan, the clinking of the fragments clanking together resonating. I perch myself on a stool that faced the island counter, one hand gripping the edge while inspecting it with my other; turning it over and pressing at the soreness. The skin had turned a dark red but other than that it wasn’t bleeding.

“I can buy you another,” proposed Dad.

“It won’t be the same!”

Sitting up straight, I watch as Dad holds her by the top of her shoulders mirth glimmering in his eyes, staring down at her. They seem to be in their own bubble of life, staring deeply into each other’s eyes, words spoken what the mouth hasn’t said; when I begin to see them leaning in, I resemble the noise of gagging. At the noise, they turn their attention to me, looking as if they had forgotten I was in the same room as them.

Mom’s face flushes red and Dad looks away not meeting my eye. I only blink repeatedly before I lean my cheek on my fist, my stomach grumbling, indicating its hunger.

“What’s for breakfast?”

Dad’s deep chuckle fills the kitchen while he walks over to the fridge grabbing the cereal from the top of it and the milk along with two bowls.

“Sorry kiddo, we’re not completely settled in yet to cook anything, so cereal for today.”

I groan, crossing my arms over my chest. “Damn it, I had a taste for mom’s pancakes.”

“Language,” he warns, rounding the island and takes a seat next to me. “So was I,” he agrees a second later.

We all fall into a comfortable silence, Dad and I eating our cereal while Mom rearranged the plates and silverware in the cupboards and draws as she took them from the boxes. The whole time Mom was sending Dad nervous glances, and after a gesture with her hand, not really discreet as she tried to make it out to be: he finally sighs.

“Abigail,” he begins, rising to his feet and crossing over to where mom stood, he reached and grabbed her shoulder turning her towards me. “Your Mom and I have something to tell you.”

I chew the remaining cereal in my mouth while pushing the bowl aside, watching their forms loom over the other side of the counter. By the huge smile on Dad’s face and Mom’s glowing aura despite her nervous state, I could tell it was something good.

I tilt my head, intrigued. “And that is?”

Giving each other one last glance, they exclaim; “We’re pregnant!”

“Well, I am,” Mom adds a second later, a smile on her lips. “Not your dad.”

My eyes slowly widen, in shock, the pure happiness that coursed through my veins left me breathless. A huge smile stretched across my face, catching my parents off guard.

“Are. .are you serious?”

They nod their heads in sync waiting for it to sink in for me, my nose begins to burn, a clear sign that tears were going to start forming— the last time I cried was when he left. I rose from my seat, my bare feet meeting the wooden floor as I pad over to my mom my eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m going to be a big sister. .” I breathe out, confirming it myself.

Mom’s eyes were starting to well up with her own tears, the movement was small but I saw it, her head bobbed and I laughed. Circling my arms around her, I pull her body forward against mine. She yelped at the action, her own wrapping around my waist. She laughed at my enthusiasm.

“Thank you,” I tell her, hugging her tighter. She simply pats my back.

Releasing my hold on her, I crouch in front of her stomach raising a hand as I did so. I smile again when I make contact, I couldn’t wait to meet my sister or brother.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you smile,” Mom admits, taking the spot next to me on the sofa.

The living room was just as empty as my room, the sofas being the only piece of furniture beside the coffee table. Boxes littered in a few places, looking as if they were already here before we came.

“I almost forgot how gorgeous you are when you do,” she told me, her fingers stroking the side of my face. “Not that you aren’t already.” I turn to face her, another smile on my face.

I reached over and began to stroke her belly, she chuckled, placing her hand on mine; she squeezes it. “You’re more excited than I am.”

I nodded my head, “I really am, I always wanted to be a big sister to someone.”

“Aw sweetie, you’re going to be a great sister!”

“I hope so,” I murmur, slanting my gaze to her stomach before returning to her face, “how long have you known?”

“Two weeks.”

Mom softly pats her belly, a faint smile touching her lips. Dad soon walks through the threshold of the archway to the living room, setting a cup of water on the coffee table with a pack of crackers.

“So, I just called the Public School,” he says, walking over to sit on the edge of the coffee directly in front of us, ignoring the disapproving look from mom, “They said that you’ll be able to start school tomorrow.”

‘There goes my weekend.’

My smile disappears, and a scowl replaces it. “Are you kidding me?”

“Nope,” he grins at my expression.

I groan, throwing my head back against the sofa cushion, staring up at the white fading ceiling.

“Do I really have to?” I say. “We just moved here, why so soon?”

Mom laughs and so does Dad, it was as if they were mocking me. I narrowed my eyes at them. “That doesn’t mean anything. Just because we moved states doesn’t mean you don’t get your education. It’s good to go early, the students just got back from their break too.”

“You won’t be the only one doing work,” Dad adds, “I have to meet up with the company and get back to work myself.”

“That’s different, Dad, I’ll be surrounded by people I don’t know.”

“A great opportunity to make new friends.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, the hatred of moving places coming back at full force. “Because being the ‘new girl’ will be so much fun,” sarcasm drips with every word.