She couldn't even wait for me to fly with her.
You'd think that 10 or so months of unofficially dating (since officially dating was out of the question) would mean something. Not so much with Ellen apparently. She could've easily waited. It would've meant a day; that's all I would've needed to finish at the office. But no. She just had to travel to Saskatchewan as soon as her classes ended.
"We are siblings for fucks sake. We live in the same goddamn city."
"Yeah, but everyone else from the flat is leaving. Besides, I have plans to meet up with some friends in Regina."
I pondered our argument on the plane to Regina. The dull flight would've been more entertaining with some company. It wouldn't have killed her to wait one more day. Maybe something sketchy was up.
After what had felt like an eternity, the plane finally touched down on the icy runway of Regina Airport. I was travelling light so I was able to skip the baggage claim. As I found my way into the tiny arrivals area, I immediately spotted Mom and Pops. Mom was looking good, had apparently just been to the hairdressers for the occasion and cropped her hair short. Some blonde highlights in her chestnut hair gave it a fresh look. Pops though... Well, he looked as Popeye as he had always looked. If it works, why change?
Mom's eyes sparkled as she took me in for a tight hug. "Welcome home, sweetie!" The familiar smell of cigarettes oozed out of her clothing.
The amount of affection she unashamedly showed me in public would've been embarrassing had I been in my teens. I had matured enough to appreciate it.
"How was your flight?" asked Pops, as he took me in for a hug.
He was not my biological father, but he had played the part for as long as I could remember. As Mom had never wanted to deceive me, she had confessed to me that he wasn't exactly my "dad" even if he was more than willing to be it for me. Consequently, I had always called him Pops. The name stuck.
I was happy to see my parents, I truly was. Yet one piece was missing.
"Where is Ellie?" I asked them confused.
My mother grinned awkwardly, clearly apologetic.
"She said she'd rather wait at home. She wanted to get some things done before your arrival."
"Isn't she a busy bee," I sighed and rolled my eyes.
She laughed light-heartedly at my remark. Ellen had inherited Mom's cheerful laughter. In many ways they looked very similar as well; both were quite short, a little plump. It would've been a lie to say that Ellen hadn't taken after her father as well, especially in the shape of her face, which was quite round. But thinking about their similarities always weirded me out. Seeing Ellen's lovely feminine qualities repeated in Pops disturbed me. Especially now.
The car ride passed with us exchanging pleasantries, talking about weather, general catching up. But the thought of Ellen not being there upset me.
I hadn't seen her much of late, and she never allowed me to come over. I had helped her with her move-in once it had been confirmed that her application at the University of Vancouver had been accepted. But after I had carried in the last of her furniture into that apartment that she'd be living in with a few other students, she practically pushed me out of the front door. Despite the proximity I was never invited over, and she would always insist on meeting me at my place. Admittedly I had no roommates to worry about. We had a lot of fun at my place, but it always felt like she was hiding me like a piece of dirty laundry.
Pops parked the car on the street in front of a mountain of snow. This mountain, I suspected, was their newly purchased home. Only windows and the front door had been dug out for access. It reminded me of those Hobbit homes in Lord of the Rings films.
"Welcome home," Pops announced, confirming my fears.
"I didn't expect an igloo," I jested.
"I take it you are volunteering for some shovelling then?"
"Sure," I sighed. I wasn't exactly thrilled to commit myself to manual labour, but Pops wasn't getting any younger.
I grabbed the single piece of luggage from the back of the car and followed Mom to the charming-looking wooden door. It was your usual brick house that you'd expect to see in a suburb, from the little that I could see. At least it looked more robust than the shack we used to call home.
As soon as I stepped in, it felt like I had been place in an oven. Not only was it warm but the indoor lighting had a homely yellow glow to it. The furniture was old, most of it from Mom's family heirlooms. Your average person would've disposed of it ages ago, but Mom loved antique. You couldn't talk her into replacing any of it. Pops, on the other hand, had never particularly cared for home decoration, safe for his beloved photographs. I could see the mismatched picture frames covering the walls of the hallway, each of them containing a long-forgotten instant of my childhood. I was certain I would find more pictures in the other rooms of the house.
"Just give me your jacket, honey. Step right in," Mom instructed, as she put away clothes into a stuffed closet in the hall.
That's when I finally caught sight of her. With one confident step, Ellen entered from behind a door frame on the right to stand right in the middle of the hallway. She was wearing a bright red skirt and a tight long-sleeved shirt on top of it, coloured dark grey. Her rich brown hair fell on her shoulders as if she had put in a lot of effort in making it look perfect. Maybe she had? Her hazelnut eyes sparkled at the sight of me and disarmed me of any grudgeful feelings I may have held until then. Her smile was a pure, unfiltered welcome.
"Andy!" she shouted with excitement, as if I was a puppy to be picked up. She ran into my arms and buried her face against my chest.
"Hey my sweet Ellie," I smiled. Finally, it felt like I was home. Feeling her warmth in my arms was all I needed to feel normal.
"Can't believe you are finally here! Come!" she grabbed me by the hand like she was in a hurry. Not knowing what was up I followed her, leaving our parents behind to manage with the overwhelming mountain of winter coats. Yet they were grinning conspiratorially and shaking their heads at the happy sight of us.
Ellen dragged me into a spacious living room. Large windows opened to a snow-filled garden. Hadn't it been the darkest season of the year, the living room might've been quite luminous. Now the darkness of the outdoors was challenged by the glow of the electric lights and a red brick fireplace where a homely fire was in its full blaze. By the fireplace there was the couch with matching armchairs, all in brown leather, facing a decent-sized television set. On the coffee table in the middle of it all was a bowl of red apples. In the other far end of the room was a white cupboarded open-plan kitchen. The massive kitchen island was something that Mom had been gushing about ever since the move-in. A round mahogany dining table functioned as the room diver in this multifunctional living space. All the pieces of it were familiar from my childhood.
