156 - Change in Plans
***Hello, my Darlings! Just a quick note for everyone… I am so glad that everyone is enjoying the stories. Please understand that I am writing the chapters as quickly as I can. I also have a full-time job, a family, my favorite niece is getting married, I lead a writing group at the local library, have books on Amazon and aging parents. Please be patient with me as I create the best stories that I can. With much love, Amy***
**This is so cool! I’ve always wanted to go to New York and to see Broadway. Everyone in drama is jealous. - Mitch*
The sun was going down when Critter pulled into the driveway after picking Camille and her family up from the airport in Boston. Vin and Colton walked out of the house to help bring the luggage in. Camille found it odd to be traveling with something other than a carryon. Darkness had laughed as he reminded her that they did have to go to the luggage carousel. Even now, at her parents’ house, he took a quick dig at her as she hugged Vin.
“Don’t worry, we’ll carry the luggage, you remember what that is, right?”
She shook her head as she gave a small laugh. “In that case, I’m going in,” linking her arms with her oldest son and nephew, she guided them back towards the front door.
“But Oma sent us out to help -.”
“Don’t worry,” Colton cut his cousin off. “She’ll approve of the fuckery.”
“What kind of fuckery am I going to approve of?” Sid asked from the kitchen where she was pulling sourdough bread out of the oven.
“Oh, that smells so good,” Camille moved to the kitchen to smell the bread and hug her mom. “I’ve missed your bread.”
“Well, good. I made some just for you,” she pushed the bread towards the center of the island, a habit she acquired from having a houseful of little kids. Wrapping her arms around her youngest daughter, she kissed the top of her blonde head before resting her cheek over the same spot. Her eyes narrowed on her two grandsons, “Why didn’t you two bring in any luggage?”
“Because Darkness was picking on me, so I brought his assistants in with me.”
“Makes sense,” Sid agreed.
Camille knew the instant that Nicki and Mitch entered the house. Sid pushed her daughter away and quickly rushed around the island to gather the other two kids into her arms. Rolling her eyes, she spotted the fresh loaf of paasstol and pulled the bread towards her.
The almond and raisin bread was a family tradition that dated back to when Sid discovered the recipe in high school. What started as a project in home economics ended up being Sid’s craving for every pregnancy. After it had become popular with the family, Oma Uittenbroek had admitted that she never liked it as a kid.
Camille cut herself a thick slice of the bread a slathered the still warm bread with the homemade honey butter. These were the things that she had missed that she could not get down in Baton Rouge. Taking a bite of the bread, she decided that she needed to take the kids to the Christmas Market.
“Oma,” she said with her mouth still half full of bread, “have you been to the Market yet?”
“No,” she shook her head and gave her daughter a look to remind her that she had manners and knew better than to talk with food in her mouth. Camille understood the look that she was getting and simply shrugged as she took another bite.
“Finally,” Critter exclaimed. “I’m not the one getting in trouble.”
“Boy,” Trigg said as he came into the house, “you’re too stupid to stay out of trouble.”
“I would be offended,” he grinned at his dad as he took the last little bit of bread from his sister, “but mom always says that I’m just like you.”
“I should be the one offended,” Trigg grabbed the piece of bread before his son could pop it into his mouth. With the pilfered treat in his mouth, he opened his arms to his daughter.
“Hi, daddy,” Camille settled into the embrace and rested her cheek against his chest.
“Did your mom tell you the bad news?” he asked and the rumble against her ear made her smile even as a feeling of dread settled in her stomach.
“No, is Chris not adopted?”
“Sorry, I was there when he was made and hatched,” Sid replied and ignored her two youngest flipping each other off. “There was a breakthrough case of Covid, and the play has been shut down until at least January.”
Camille looked over at Mitch and watched his reaction as if it were in slow motion. His smile fell. His shoulders slumped. Tears filled his eyes and threatened to spill over. As if he realized that people were watching him, he dashed to the hallway and up the stairs.
Darkness looked at his wife to indicate that he was not sure what to do. Camille squeezed her father’s waist before walking towards her husband. With a quick kiss, she silently assured him that she would go to their youngest. As she walked past, her mom squeezed her hand in silent support.
She paused at the top of the stairs and heard soft voices from the room across from hers. Stopping at the doorway to Allison’s room, she saw her sister sitting on her bed, gently running her long fingernails through his short hair. Camille knew from experience that his hair would soon be a giant poofy afro, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell her sister to stop.
“But you’re still human,” Allison told Mitch quietly. “You still have feelings and emotions, and you’re allowed to have them.”
“You’re not going to tell me to man up?” he asked quietly.
Allison chuckled, “Not in this family. You might get told to woman up. Maybe even to orange up. But to man up? Hell no.”
“But it’s just a play…”
“But it’s really not,” she countered.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you lost your parents, your home, your friends, everything that you had because of Covid. You were looking forward to going to the play in New York on Broadway no less. And then, that too got taken away from you too. Suddenly,” she sighed, “you’re facing everything all over again. Losing everything all over again.”
“Yeah…”
Camille could hear the heartbreak in his voice and felt it in her own chest.
“Thanks, Auntie Allison,” he said as he sat up and hugged her.
“You’re welcome,” she looked up and smiled at her sister. Allison’s smile fell and her eyes widened as she saw his hair. Half of his hair, where she had been running her fingers through, his hair was now poofier. “Oh, god.”
Camille laughed, “A little water and lotion and we’ll have that fro under control.”
He touched his hair and his shoulders slumped again, “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” the sisters asked.
Allison lifted his face to look at her, “I messed up your hair. You, *neef*, did nothing wrong.”
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