The sun rose with a hazy, lazy ray over a row of brownstones, but a ruckus could already be heard from the house at the street corner.
Ms. Johnson got out the pancake mix, and set out three plates, one for each of her boys. She looked over the kitchen counter to see what they were doing. Michael was in the living room playing with action figures on the carpet. At least one of them was behaving.
Aiden, however, had Neil in a headlock (again). “Aiden, quit it.” Ms. Johnson glared at the two as she stirred the pancake batter.
“He started it,” Aiden flung Neil to the side and sat at the table. (Neil was left rubbing his head of blond curls and angrily watching Aiden with evil thoughts in mind).
“Aiden, your father is coming to pick you up for the weekend. Are you ready to go?” Ms. Johnson asked.
Aiden’s eyes rolled up to the ceiling. “No.”
Ms. Johnson made her way to the steaming pan. “Why not? You knew he was coming to get you today.”
“Because I don’t want to see him. He’s a crash-out.”
Ms. Johnson poured the first pancake into the frying pan and it bubbled in the oil with a steaming hiss. “Don’t call your father a crash-out. He even got you both tickets to see a Knicks basketball game together, so you should be grateful. He’s coming to get you at noon, so get dressed and brush your hair, Aiden.”
Ms. Johnson walked over and handed Aiden the ticket. He scrunched up his face and groaned as he set his chin on the table. He stayed like that even after Ms. Johnson had set each of their plates of pancakes at the table. "He thinks he can win me over with a basketball game, but he can't." Aiden mumbled.
Michael, whose fingers were already covered in syrup, turned to his older brother. “Aiden, why do you hate your Dad?”
“Because he sucks. He’s barely ever around.”
“Yeah, but you have a father who can visit you,” Neil said from across the table. “Mine is in jail. I won’t be able to see him for like, the next twenty years.”
“I wish my Dad was still alive.”
Everyone turned back to Michael, the youngest brother, who was busy finishing the last of his pancakes.
Aiden knew Michael’s parents had died in a house fire, but it was so rare that he brought them up. Aiden had always felt Michael had the worst luck out of the three of them, since he had known his parents for a while, then lost them both in one night.
Aiden stared at the game ticket for a moment. His father had thought of something fun they could do together, so he had to care at least a little bit.
Everyone ate and went to their rooms in silence, but when Aiden returned downstairs, he was dressed with his hair brushed.
Ms. Johnson smiled and gave him a nod as he went to the door. “You look very nice, Aiden. I’m glad you got ready in a timely manner.”
Aiden unlocked the door with a shrug. “He came this far out to see me. Might as well-” a car pulled up to the curb and Aiden gave a quick wave. “Bye Ms. Johnson!” Aiden ran off to meet his father.
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