His Mafia Protector

Chapter 4: Next Few Days

Chapter 4: Next Few Days

The next three days after the break-in were pure torture. Mom had gone all Nazi on us three. She had stood on the now-fixed coffee table, courtesy of my dad, and had shouted orders to all three of us like she was organizing a wedding. The only thing missing were the fancy Bluetooth headsets for coordination.

The worst thing was that, that when we complained about our sore limbs, back-ache or in my father’s case, a headache, she would just break-down, and we would have to eventually calm her down. Afterwards, she just goes up on her platform and starts dictating us again.

She still doesn’t know that we can easily spot the smug grin she hides beneath her sad exterior.  Seriously, it a mother’s manipulation as its finest. We had ordered new stuff for our house and my mother took this opportunity to go all out with the decorations this time. 

She told us that this was a chance for her to decorate the house again, but only better. She ordered a bigger TV, a bigger boom box, fancier curtains, and god knows what else. 

For me, the only silver lining in this dark cloud was that, that I got at least I got to stay at home. Mom had called the Principal and told her about the circumstances of our house. Mrs. Dsouza had told my mom that she understood fully and that I could take a long holiday given the fact that I am the star student of her School-Debate team. This nerd thing wasn't that bad. Being good in academics has its pros. My main goal was to become a lawyer anyways. 

I am not bragging or anything, but I often heard people say that I would become an awesome lawyer as I had gotten my Dad’s genes in debating and negotiating. I cannot tell you how much it feels good to be told that. For me, my Dad was my idol. He fights for justice and someday even I wish to step in his footsteps. He was my superhero. 

Another thing which changed was the fact that our family had become the talk of our society.

Some people who sympathized brought us goods, like little Cathy who is seven and lived next door, brought cookies for us which she and her mother had baked. Dr. Heather had gotten us some home made pasta. It was quite nice of them. 

Meanwhile, Trent and Mel were almost here every day after school, dropping off homework and helping me  and my family clean up the destruction. This deep cleaning had its cons too. I was quite embarrassed when Mom found my Playboys. Which then later prompted my Dad into having that birds and bees talk with me, while Trent and Mel were still there, making silly faces behind his back, making me laugh continuously. They are idiots, but they are my idiots. 

Right now, my dad and I were fixing the front door which had come off its hinges a day after the break-in. We were taking turns to watch the door at night and it was taking a toll on us. 

“Screwdriver.” Dad ordered while holding the door with both his hands and I fished the toolkit looking for it. I found it quickly and handed it to him, receiving a small thanks. Dad tinkered with the hinge for some time, unscrewing some nails, pressing the door more firmly against it and then using the screwdriver to put the nails back in place. 

As soon as he was done with this, Dad gently let go of the door and crossed his fingers looking at me, his blue eyes clashing with my green ones. He gently opened the door and closed it again and then shouted in glee when the door just creaked a little bit but didn’t fell.

I smiled at the obvious joy on my father’s face. “Derek, go get some oil from the garage. It will be on the middle shelf beside some old toys of yours. Let’s fix this door nice before your mother comes home.” He said, pulling his sleeves up a bit, cracking his knuckles.

I smiled and then rushed to the garage. I quickly found the oil in the tin container and was just returning to the porch where Dad was sitting, when I noticed something strange. 

There stood a blue car a little away from our house with a person looking at my house. Like they were assessing it. Maybe wondering if this was the house that got broke into a few days back. They were parked in front of Mr. Parker’s house. He had gone for a vacation to France with his wife for his 25th wedding anniversary. They must have come back. These must be their relatives.

So, I just shrugged it off and continued walking. Oh, how was I to know that, that in a few hours, this carelessness would become the worst mistake I’d ever made.