Chapter One Storm in the Living Room

"Steve, really?" I asked as I caught my ten year old son pulling the orange juice back out of the fridge where I had just put it. "You've all had about three cups of that already." It was Friday evening and it felt like I had been trying to make dinner for the last two hours. If it had been a summer night, my five children would be outside in the garden screaming there, even if I had to lock the doors on them. But as it was winter and already dark, they had no choice but to play in the living room. My husband and I were both raised by fairly strict parents. Screaming was unheard of, so was taking food from the kitchen without permission or asking for seconds. Maybe our similar experiences combined made a stronger determination to see our kids allowed to live to their full capacities, I don't know. But if little is to be said about that, then I'll just leave a final comment that for whatever reasons and by whatever causes, our children were much different.

"Only two actually," Steve corrected me in a very serious tone as if it made all the difference. "Terry's sick, and you remember how dad told us in the car yesterday that vitamin C is really good at curing?"

I tucked some stray hairs behind my ear and looked over the kitchen counter at the living room; the seven year old beating his sister with a pillow didn't look sick to me.

"Well, I fail to see why that means you must all have some more juice."

Steve carefully poured the orange liquid into the five cups he had set out in a row along the bench beside the sink. "Oranges have lots of vitamin C in them. We should all have lots of this juice so that we don't catch sick from Terry."

"Oh." I nodded, going along with it. "And what are you going to do when there just happens to be no juice for Abbey's party tomorrow?"

Steve continued pouring, as if he had known I was going to ask the question and had the answer in the front of his mind. "Dad isn't home yet, is he? You can call him and ask him to get more from the shop." Then he twisted the cap back on the bottle and placed it back in the fridge beside the milk. "Come and get it!"

Suddenly my other four kids, Terry, Abbey, Nellie and Archie, came running up to the bench to take their special cups back to the living room, their curly red heads bobbing. The living room is really the main attraction of our little house I guess. It has always been the most used on account of its size compared to everything else in the house. It used to be the most beautiful room too, with priceless wedding presents and crockery set out. But such items had had to be packed away when Steve was about three, replaced with toys, books and crafts that were used day in and day out. At least most days there were only Nellie and Archie to contend with at home while the older three were at school a few kilometers away.

"No, no!" I snapped out of my self-pity-party just as Nellie picked up the remote control from the top of the TV stand.

"Wanna watch Mickey Custer & the Blue Dog."

"Steve," I said as the little girl handed the remote to him. Terry had already turned the screen on by this time.

"Please mum?" my eldest asked on behalf of them all. "Just one episode while you finish dinner?"

I planted my hands on my hips, trying not to look too deeply into each pair of big brown eyes. "I really shouldn't say yes...you know you watched too much last night."

"PEASE!!"

I exhaled quick and hard, turning back to the kitchen. "Only if it's one episode like you promise. And only after these pens and paper are packed up."

"THANKS MUM!!"

The theme music came on a few minutes later, a cheery jazz vibe that any of the children could sing backwards. It grated my nerves to tell the truth, but I think any mum would quickly decide it was a step up from yells and teasing flying through the house. Someone switched a light off, but I had the two lamps hanging in the kitchen for me. I looked at the food I had set out for the shepherds pie I was making. Onions half chopped on the wooden board, pastry defrosting on the sink beside the mince. I heaved a sigh and realized that I was extremely tired. Maybe I should accept Nanny's offer to come up for a bit and help...Come on, let's just get this pie in the oven! Nanny Ruth wasn't the kids' real grandma or anything, just a lonely old widow living in the country on the other side of town and the most generous soul I knew.

The kids' real grandparents live really far away, so Nanny Ruth is the closest to one they have. I don't like to burden her by expecting her to help me so much with the children; I just like them seeing her when she feels up to it. I followed my finger down the page in my recipe book and turned to the cupboard to get the spices I needed. Terry and Archie were already there, emptying the bag of potato chips I had just bought yesterday into a big bowl.

"What are you two doing with Abbey's party food?"

"We need it for the show," Archie said simply, the cutest grin on his face as he looked up at me and held the bowl out for Terry. Then the older boy scrunched up the empty bag and threw it into the rubbish bin under the sink.

"Don't worry mum," he said, taking the bowl from the four year old. "Abbey said she would rather eat the chips now than wait until tomorrow."

I stared after them as they went back to join the others, spread out over the carpet on beanbags or pillows with every eye glued to the screen. I shook my head and wondered why I hadn't thought about hiding the snacks. Maybe I should have added to the invitations that it would be appreciated if the guests could bring something too. I reached up to the top shelf just to make sure that the cookies and donuts were still there, as well as the little chocolates that were supposed to go in the gift bags for Abbey’s friends. I took the spices and closed the cupboard door, checking the pastry; it was still too stiff.

So I set the spice packet down and walked over to the side table beside the entrance, picking up my phone and scanning the carpet for any juice spills. "Hold the fort for me, Steve? I'm just gonna give dad a call; I'll be back soon."

I got no answer though—the crazy detective, Mickey Custer with his equally crazy blue dog speaking gibberish was just too good to miss. So I just took my husband's big jacket from a hook in the little porch room just inside the front door and went outside to sit on the wooden steps. I tapped on his name in my contacts list and held the phone to my ear, pulling the jacket collar closer round my neck and listening to the rhythmic beeping until he finally picked up. In the light from a street lamp just outside our gate, I could see Nellie’s tricycle, tipped over in the grass beside the small tool shed. I can’t remember how many times I had reminded her to put it in the garage after she used it. There was Steve and Terry’s football, along with faded plastic shovels and buckets strayed from the tiny sandpit. I cringed inside at the amount of cleaning up that would have to be done around here before the party guests arrived the next afternoon.

"Hello sweets."

"Hi Riley; how you going?"

"Stuck in traffic at the moment, but good other than that. You sound like you should have been in bed ages ago!"

I laughed. "No joke. Hey, are you near the supermarket?" I told him we needed to replace some of the food for tomorrow, concluding that if the snitching continued, I should lock the presents in the bedroom closet.

“Well, I’m trying to make it in time for that meeting at the bank; that shouldn’t take long, so I’ll run into the shop after that and get some more chips.”

“Don’t forget the juice,” I reminded him. “Abbey will be upset if there isn’t any at her party.”

“Righto. How are things there anyway?”

“Oh, where to begin!” I exclaimed with a light laugh. “I’m ok Riley; just hurry will you?”

“Of course, I’ll be as quick as I can. Bye”

“Love you; bye.” I hung up and slowly got to my feet, the sound of yells and arguing greeting my ears as I did so. I guess it might sound silly, but I was a little afraid to go inside, at least for a little while anyway. I think I could hear Abbey trying to keep them quiet and be the little peace maker she tries to be, but it didn’t seem to be doing much good this time. Better go in and help her.

The bowl of chips had been fast emptied as I knew it would be; not all of them however made it into my kids' mouths. Chips were lost amongst the bean bags, pillows and even some on the couch. Our fluffy, white cat, Snow, was sitting on the arm of the couch, looking on through her squinted eyes. Some juice had been spilt as I feared, and Terry and Steve were at each other’s throats for all they were worth. I must have misheard something, because Abbey seemed just as mad as the boys, fully a part of the scuffle. Archie and Nellie were copying them, rolling on the floor and pounding each other with their chubby fists.

“Hey, hey! What’s going on? Stop it!”

When I finally got Terry, Abbey and Steve disentangled from each other and the two little ones on their feet, Terry started tattling on them. “Steve wouldn’t let us have the second part of the story because you said only one episode. He wouldn’t let us have the remote.”

“Well,” I tried reasoning with him. “One episode is what I said, isn’t it? So Steve did right in turning the TV off. Now I don’t want to have any more of this fighting, is that understood? Clean up this mess!”

I tossed Riley’s jacket aside and went to check on the food. The mince and pastry were both thawed now, so I turned on the stove and quickly finished chopping the onions before transferring them into a pan. I went over to a shelf and picked out a bottle of oil, finding Abbey standing in the corner. Her red braids were mussed up from the fight.

“No one opens the cupboard,” I stated while swirling a drizzle of oil over the onions. It popped and spat, giving off a loud whissssh sound when I stirred it with a spoon.

“I don’t want the cupboard,” she replied. “I was wondering when we’re going to make the gift bags for tomorrow?”

“I planned to do that together after dinner. Now go help your brothers pick up those chips. I can’t believe you wasted that many!” Abbey drooped her head, walking off in silence to obey me. I was really in no mood to be talking birthday plans with anyone, but later I regretted being so crabby to her. Finally the pie was put together and in the oven; the children were sitting in the living room now, simply talking and laughing without too much excess noise. I was grateful for this, wondering if it would maintain until their dad got home. Anyhow, I was planning an early night for them so that I could get my other jobs done as well as give Riley some attention. It seemed like my days were never over until late in the night when everything was finally black and still.