Morning had come just a few hours ago and the Asher household was already stirring. The younger of the two sisters made her way down to the widespread kitchen and grimaced when the light from its tall windows assaulted her eyes. She walked over to the coffee pot that had already been full of the addictive hot substance. The sent jolted her awake just a fraction, enough for her to consider her appearance. She tucked a loose curl behind her ear; it had escaped its auburn braided prison over night. One yawn later she began to search for the sugar and dropped two teaspoons into the mug, a shiver ran down her back. At first, she dismissed it as cold. She was barefoot in nothing but a large t-shirt and some shorts and it was early winter. The redhead continued with her early morning scavenging by opening the fridge and pulling out a plate of brownies covered in plastic wrap. Caught up in debating whether she should disobey her older sister and star her morning off with nothing but sugar and fat, she never noticed the figure walking through the backyard. The window she was standing before gave her a clear view of the entire yard if only she would look up.
By the time she felt something was going on, the shadow had made its way to the door. The woman felt the air chill and goose bumps rose on her pale skin. Her eyes traveled to the door and the hairs one her body stood on end as the knob turned. They locked the door every night so she knew whatever was on the on other side would not be able to get inside, though she could be overreacting, maybe it was Liam coming over early to talk about today's workload. Her heart sank and beat faster when she heard the click from the door. The grip on her mug doubled and she he hands began to shake with force. The mug would be flying towards the intruder's face the moment they stepped in. She hoped the hot coffee would distract the person long enough for her to lunge for the phone and dial for the cops. The twenty-seven year old took a step back on the cream-colored tile floor, when the door started to open she felt rooted to the spot. Frozen to the spot by the eerie and potentially dangerous situations a million thoughts ran across her brain: Would her nephew and sister be safe? Is this just a robbery or would it be related to the disappearance cases going around? Was she over reacting? Who would take care of the restaurant? When the figure came through the door he mind turned of and blanked for a few seconds.
"What's the matter, last night movie making you paranoid?"
At the sound of that voice the auburn haired woman didn't know if she should be feeling silly, scared or enraged. She even considered chucking the coffee mug at the other woman. She just set it down and fixed her sister with a faux glare. "Jesus Christ! Ye trying to give me a heart attack!" she hissed at her grinning sister while grabbing her shirt as if where her heart. This dramatic gesture was now a reflex of slightly feigned surprise after all the conquest it had achieved for her. Briefly the thought of why it had ran across her recovering brain. Maybe it was the way it accentuated her already well-pronounced bosom. Amy did not want to wake the boys otherwise, she would have been louder. The blonde-haired woman chuckled softly "you're jumpy this morning." she paused setting down the sprigs of mint she had picked from the backyard. "Scared zombies will attack you?" The other sighed in defeat looking a little embarrassed and she hid her face in the coffee cup and whispered as only a younger sisters can "ye know I'm a scardy cat when it comes to tha'" her soft Irish lisp adding a stroke of something with a likeliness of 'adorable' to her sleepy appearance. It clashed horribly with her sister's prim and proper look, ready for a day ahead in the restaurant the younger had worked so hard to build. Of course, horror films scared her, that is what they are designed to do. Why couldn't anyone see past the whole 'its just a movie' thing and noticed that horror films where meant to scare you?
She had her hand on her hip and was about to chastise her elder sister for scaring her on purpose when the sound of a blow dryer go off up stairs. Boys were awake. The prankster took out a box of waffles from the fridge and laid it on the counter; she looked at her baby sister with apology written over her face. At the site of the blonde's face, all Amy could do was chuckle, as if Andrea needed to apologize. She opened the box and popped them in the toaster oven on the grey and slightly blue granite counter, conveniently to the right of the coffee machine or as Amy had christened it 'The Alarm Clock'. Her nephew did not like his waffles done in a regular toaster. The coffee pot had begun to reheat the black life elixir. She got to mugs out and filled one to one-fourth with milk her sister had left on the counter alongside the waffles. Her hunt for the sugar proved to be a testament to her distaste for mornings. "Its by the knife wrack." Her sister had to call out around a slice of apple so she could finally give each cup its rightful amount of sweetening. Two for the one with milk and one single lump for the empty blue one.
"OI, Rea." She called out the pet name wrapped up in a soft trill of laughter "ye notice Benji takes his coffee like Ma did?" she stirs the sugar into the milk with a smile on her face before digging around the cupboards. "Yeah and he gets that same panicked look Da had when ever he can't find something." Her sister said her accent much softer and laced with the usual American tone. She dropped some blueberries into a bowl of white yogurt; the bowl by it had apple slices in the yogurt. The youngest took a break from the coffee to fish out the cereal, leaving it on the island for her sister to put in the bowls, and took the sprigs of mint to boil them into a tea. Now that she had performed some mindless tasks, she felt more awake and took in the view outside of the window. She remembered why the sudden move from the crowded Dublin to the middle of know where in. It was the sheer breath taking view of mountain ridges coming up behind a lush dark green wood. Lucky her great grandfather's family married into money a while back and managed to keep the house after they lost everything.
Sometimes she could not believe her luck, she had risked a good stable job working in a Michelin Star restaurant in the best year they had had, moving to the states to neck it out trying to make a name for herself as a chef. In her haste, she had forgotten to tell her sister anything about her leaving the country, which had been unforgivably reckless of her knowing said sibling lived in the colder region of California. Andrea had a small local bakery where her son and stepdaughter usually helped. Now things had become almost too different. She sighed and physically sagged at the memory of the ashen blonde girl and the nightmare life had been six months ago.
Her restaurant had been running for scarcely three years and almost out of the blue, the twenty three year old did not come to work and was gone from home, only a few things packed and all ties severed. The nephew had been in shock and would stand by his sister's room for a minute or so expecting her to come out of the adjoined bathroom. They had been close for a while when he was younger but, a while before she left bitterness sank into her worlds and Amy saw how it cut the boy open. Charlotte had started to fight with her mother and she just was not the same. If it were up to her the dirty blonde would not have had a chance to leave, Amy would have packed her bags for her and changed the locks to the doors and alarm system code. Kicking her out after the first three months of hell they had been put though, as harsh as it seems, would have been all in all the right thing to do. The way she attacked the boy who worked at Andrea's bakery had been the last straw, two of her full grown and strong male coworkers had to pull her off the high-school senior.
It had been six months since her political niece had left and around three weeks ago, a slew of disappearances had cropped up making the local police department run around and pick up phones to an automatic pace. She itched for a cigarette. Her hostess's son had been among the missing and the cops believed that her niece might be a victim as well. As many as six children from all over he nephew's high-school had been abducted; no ransom, no signs of life, nothing. Not even bodies had been found yet, and that was the worrying part. What if some cannibal was stocking up on food for the up coming winter of a Christmas feast? Christ, she almost forgot. Soon they're have to drive down to the restaurant and brainstorm there new holiday menu. Not that she wasn't eager to do her job and dissolve into goop when her sister brought out miniature examples of her holiday deserts to add to the list of merriment. What luck having a constant stream of fresh baked goods for you restaurant form your neighboring shop as a gift. What she was most definitely dreading was seeing the look on her hostess's face when she would command her to take a break from work. That woman was going to work herself to a grieving mush by the time the holiday season was over. She had a family of three to tend to and a son to mourn. No way in hell was she letting her work through that, not until she was healing up a rational fraction. Loss is not something you can just spring back up from, they wouldn't be foreign to it not now, not ever.