This choice: "Since you ain't doing anything today, clean out the attic." • Go Back... "Good, so... since you aren't doing anything today, clean out the attic."
"Aw mom—!"
"Clean out the attic and maybe we'll order pizza." Harper's eyebrows raised upwards and her head made the slightest tilt downwards. Her hands traveled up onto her hips and she puffed out her chest just a little bit, "And I'll let you live. Maybe."
The two of them laughed. Piper and her mom had always gotten along like this. It seemed everyone in her family did. It seemed just as natural for Piper to give her mother a hard time as it did for her to breathe air, or to punch Zack in the arm every time he made a stupid joke. This was just how things were done in this household—bitch, bitch, do it, then bitch some more. It wasn't exactly a direct process, but it got the job done.
"Okay." Piper smiled and wrapped her arms around her mom, "Knock 'em dead, killer."
"Love you." Harper hugged her youngest (soon to be middle) child tightly and gave her a kiss on the forehead, "Good luck with your sister."
"Yeah, good luck with those nasty old pervs checking you out all day."
"Piper!"
"What?" the punk proclaimed, "You cannot be serious, thinking that they didn't just hire you because you're hot. Seriously, Ma!"
***
The Black house was a small one.
It was on the South side of town and, little history lesson here, was one of many cookie-cutter houses that used to house the factory workers in the old warehouses back in the 19-whatevers. From the outside, it was a run-down, rinky dink little love shack that looked to have seen better days. And on the inside, it was more or less the same. Questionable income aside, Harper hadn't exactly stressed a need to keep things looking spectacular, especially not lately.
One of the areas where this was most evident was, of course, the attic—why bother cleaning when you could just shove some stuff upstairs, right?
Piper and Parker hadn't been up there since they were little girls. They used to keep the Christmas Tree up here, before it caught fire that one time. So since Piper was about ten, she hadn't so much as set foot upstairs. And why would she? It wasn't like there was anything up there of hers. Or Parker's for that matter.
God, her mom had a lot of junk.
Why was this her responsibility again?
"Ugh! Mom's got so much shit up here!" Parker griped, "Why is this our responsibility again?"
"Shut up, Parker." Piper rolled her eyes, "Just... get up here. And don' touch that pink stuff."
Avoiding the insulation, Piper and Parker Black deftly crawled up into the attic of their more-than-humble abode. It wasn't exactly spacious up there, and boy was it hot. Piper could already feel thick beads of sweat forming above her prominent black brow, and she felt moist somehow. This damn Summer heat.
"Alright, you start over there..." Piper grunted as she worked her way to a hunched standing position, "And I'll start over here. It shouldn't take us more than a few hours to get everything—"
"Oh my gawwwd..." Parker was acting like a child, as if doing this one thing was going to kill her, "This is gonna take forever!"
"Suck it up, butt munch." Piper punched her sister in the arm, causing a wince and recoil from the older Black sister, "Mom asked us to do, like one thing. If we don't bitch and we don't whine, it shouldn't take us more than a few hours to get everything sorted."
There was a heavy pause as Parker dragged herself to the other side of the attic and started pouring through boxes.
"Who knows?" Piper said aloud, mostly to herself, "We might even find something cool..."  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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