The Death of Us by Alice Kuipers

Author:Alice Kuipers [Kuipers, Alice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781443424127
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada
Published: 2014-11-27T05:00:00+00:00

Mom’s downstairs making waffles. “Hey, sugar,” she says. She’s trussed up in a pink apron. Her hair is loose. For a moment I let myself believe and I say all cutesy, “Hey, Mommy.”

She opens the waffle maker and spoons in some mix. It sizzles. “Don’t you just love it here, Ivy?”

I shrug one shoulder.

“Kevin wants to take the two of us for supper somewhere elegant.” Her deep red lipstick frames her smiling mouth. She’s stylish when she wants to be, like a photograph from a magazine. I get it from her. Not that I’m boasting or anything. I just have a feel for clothes, hair, makeup. I could go into that, I suppose. I’m meant to be planning all that—planning a future.

“Blueberries?” she asks.

“Sure.”

“What are you doing today?” She hovers over the waffle maker.

“Heading to Kurt’s boat.”

“Kurt?”

“Just some guy. He’s cute.” I twirl a strand of my hair around my index finger. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” she says, all shiny like a sequin.

“Just, you know. Moving. Kevin.”

“Kevin’s a wonderful guy.”

“If you say so.”

“Don’t spoil this, Ivy.”

I swallow. Hard. My throat hurts. I think over the podcast. When the world tries to get you down, just hold yourself up higher. Fill yourself with light.

She opens the waffle maker and tips the waffle onto my plate. It smells buttery and sweet. “God, can’t you just be grateful?”

“I am, Mom. Sorry.”

“You should be. It’s not every girl who gets waffles made by her mom for breakfast. I never did. My mom was too busy travelling the world, acting in movies to make me waffles. No time for a kid, oh no, just pack up your stuff and follow along … but I made time for you.”

I’ve heard it all before, the way she says it with no trace of irony—like, doesn’t she see? I try to pull her rant-train back on track. “The waffles look delicious.”

“Of course they do.”

We’re there. Light fills me. And now I have a waffle to eat too.

Kevin walks in. “Hello there, my girls. Super duper. Breakfast all together?” He’s the only person I’ve ever met who actually grins. With his red velvet housecoat and potbelly he’s too gross to contemplate. He says, “Circling the wagons!”

Mom smiles broadly. “How it should be. Right, Ivy?”

I nod. “Absolutely.” Happy families are made up of happy individuals. “Absolutely,” I say again.

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