Kara

"Kara," my dad called out from the kitchen. "I finished folding the laundry. Could you bring mine to my room and Dylan's to his room?"

"You can say please."

"Kara, sweetheart, will you please raise me until I'm eighteen? Pretty please change my diapers when I poop myself. Please make my breakfast, pack my lunch for school, cook my dinner, please give me a bath and clean the bathroom while you're at it because I spilled all the shampoo on the floor. Will you please provide a roof over my head?"

I laughed. "Okay, okay. I got it."

"Oh, but I'm not done yet. Will you please..."

He kept going with his scenarios as I walked away, rolling my eyes and laughing. I put my dad's laundry away first, but not before I sorted all of it properly. He was really bad at that. I chuckled when I spotted a bluish sock that used to be white.

When I was done, I sorted Dylan's, then held my breath before opening the door to his room. It usually reeked of unidentified things.

I was right. I pulled the blinds up, opened the windows to air his room out. Cool, fresh air danced in the room. Better. Next, I picked up his pillow from the floor, snapped his blanket in the air and made his bed, then decided to remove everything. His bedding needed to be washed. I cautiously avoided the spiky and sticky landmines littering the floor.

I placed my hands on my hips.

Why the hell am I doing this?

Because you love your brother, hello?

Right.

I let out a loud sigh. I looked up at the knock on the door. It was my dad.

"Ah. So that's where that smell is coming from," my dad said, eyes laughing as he took in the scene. "Are you still alive in there, Kara?"

"Barely. I need to carpet bomb his room. Does he ever clean it?"

He raised his brows in reply. I sighed again.

"I'm going to stop by at your Aunt Elisa's quickly," he said, picking up the dirty bed linens I dropped on the floor. "I'll put these in the wash. By the time I get back, the soup should be ready. Just turn off the stove after fifteen minutes, okay? Do nothing but turn the stove off, okay?"

"Okay."

"Tell me again what you need to do, Kara Koala."

"Dad!"

He laughed. "All right. Don't burn the place down."

"Right."

When I heard the front door close, I rolled up my sleeves and put away Dylan's clean laundry, picked up the clothes strewn on the floor (I had no idea whether they were clean or dirty, but they all went in the hamper), comic books, shoes, and piled them up on his desk.

Normally, I'd give him a lecture if he was around and give him the eye until he started cleaning up, but since he still wasn't home, and since I hadn't spent a lot of time with him lately, I figured I'd do him the favour.

His bedside table was littered with empty wrappers of chocolate bars and junk food. I grabbed the trashcan and froze. In it was a flyer of online gambling. Why would he have this? I fished it out of the trash, frowning at it. Then I spotted the pizza coupon below it, the ads for yoga and several others.

I sighed in relief. What was I thinking? That my brother suddenly started gambling? Ridiculous. He didn't even have money.

My alarm went off, telling me to turn off the stove for the soup. I was scooping vegetables in a bowl when I heard the front door open.

Dylan burst in, dumped his things—backpack, shoes and all in the living room then he stalked to his room. He didn't say anything. He didn't even give me the courtesy to look at me.

That's it.

"Hey!" I followed him to his room.

He glared at me. "Did you touch my things again?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not a kid, Kara. You don't need to clean my room anymore."

"If I didn't clean your room, it would start walking away from here."

His chin jutted out stubbornly. "I can do it myself."

He was taller than me now, but when he jutted his chin out, it painfully reminded me of when he was just a kid, stubbornly telling me that he didn't want to take off his Iron Man t-shirt and wash it and he'd keep on wearing it forever.

"Why didn't you? Also, where's the thank you? What's up with this attitude, Dylan?"

"I don't like you rearranging my stuff. Why can't you understand that?"

I scowled at him. "The only thing that will be rearranged around here is your mouth if you keep flapping it at me like that."

His lips pursed tightly. He looked down, running his hands through his dark blond hair.

"Look, just leave it alone, okay?"

He grabbed his backpack from the floor, slung it on his shoulder, and walked out of his room. I followed him.

He was already wearing his shoes when I caught up with him at the front door.

"Where the hell are you going?" I asked.

"You don't even live here anymore. Stop asking."

"What the—"

He pulled the front door open, then slammed the door to my face. I opened it and stepped back when I saw my dad at the door. He turned and called out to Dylan. It was raining. I didn't even notice it while I was arguing with Dylan.

"Kara—"

"I'll be right back, Dad."

I put on my shoes, grabbed the raincoat from the coat closet and rushed out.

"Dylan!"

He was already halfway to the car shop. I shouted his name again. He stopped, turned, and just looked at me for a moment. His steps were fast and angry as he started to walk toward me.

"I don't know what's wrong with you, Dylan, but put this on, will you? Where the hell do you—"

He snatched the raincoat from my hands, covered my head and shoulders with it. His arm was strong and immovable as he slung it on my shoulder and, without a word, propelled me back to the house.

"What the hell are you doing, Dylan?"

He opened the front door of our house, gently pushed me inside. We looked at each other. His hair dripped droplets of rain down on his face.

"Stop, Kara. You don't have to try so hard." He stopped for a moment, then said, "You're not my mom."

With that, he turned his back and walked away from me. How could I follow him again after that?

He had said this to me before. Not the same words, but the same context. I want a mom. A real mom, he'd said. It broke my heart then, and it broke my heart even now.

I don't know how long I stood there, staring at his disappearing figure in the rain. I could barely see him from the thick sheet of it.

I felt a mix of turbulent emotions churn in my stomach at his words, at the realization of how far apart we'd become. I didn't notice... What's going on?

"Kara, change into some dry clothes. I don't want you to get sick."

With mechanical movements, I did what my dad asked. My hair was still wet when I stepped out of the bathroom and spotted my dad sitting in front of the TV in the living room. He had two bowls of soup on the coffee table.

"Sit with me, Kara. Eat. Please," he added with a smile.

The vegetable soup was still hot, but I couldn't taste anything with the chaos in my heart.

"Dylan shouldn't have said that," he said. "You know he didn't mean it."

"He did."

"He loves you very much."

Beside me, my dad put down his bowl and sat back on the couch. After a while, he said, "I wish there was an instruction manual on how to be a good parent to your kids."

He took a deep breath and continued, "When you were just a child and something bothered you quite a bit, the answer was always ice cream. When you cried, tickling you made you laugh again. I didn't know what I was doing, but it seemed that I was doing that right, at least, because you included me in everything that you did. You told me everything that happened to you day and night. You wouldn't stop talking." He laughed at the memory.

"Now that you've grown up, it's a little different. All I can do is let you know that I am here no matter what. That I am sorry I can't give the answer you're looking for anymore because now you have to look for it yourself. Whatever it is that is missing in your life it's only for you to discover. I am not included anymore in everything that you do. But that's okay, Kara.

"Because there comes a time when a child no longer needs his parent—not the way she needed him before. You've gotten smarter and independent, and that is my greatest wish, and answers like giving you an ice cream isn't the answer anymore. I have to give up that selfish part of me that wants that back—that time when you always turned to me and I had all the answers. I had to learn to let go of you. You have to learn to let go of Dylan, too."

"I'm having a hard time, Dad."

"If it helps you any, he is going to let go of you, too." He propped his hands on his belly, rested them there. "Just do your old man a favour and try to remember each other's names. Can you do that for me?"

"It just does not seem fair, Dad."

"I know, sweetheart. Just let him know you're there for him. Guide him to the right path the best you can. Pray for him."

I swallowed back my tears. And remembered something Dylan said.

"Dad, when grandma was dying at the nursing home, I remember Dylan saying that it was selfish to ask God to make Grandma stay, so he didn't. That God will take whoever He wanted and there was nothing anyone could do about it."

He thought about it for a moment. "You prayed for me when I was in the hospital?"

"Yes."

"Do you think God heard your prayer?"

"Yes."

"An earnest prayer is powerful, Kara. God is listening. You know how I know?"

"How?"

"I prayed for you. Before I even held you in my arms when you were a baby, I prayed for you. That He would give me a child like you. And here you are."

A tear slipped down on my cheek.    

"Dylan needs you. No matter what he said, he loves you very much."

"Thanks, Dad. I don't know what I would do without you."

"You'd do just fine, baby girl. One day, you'll have your own child, if that's what you want, and you can give her an ice cream too and it will make you feel like a million bucks." He smiled. "Come now. Let's finish this soup before it gets cold."

"Dad?"

"Hm?"

We looked at each other for a moment. Then we both smiled. "Do we have any ice cream?"

THREE CHAPTERS POSTED TODAY! Chapter 16 (I was supposed to name it chapter 15 part 2, but I'll just name it Chapter 16), Chapter 17, and Chapter 18. How are you, my loves? Are you having a good weekend?

In this chapter, I wrote about Kara's relationship with her dad, Mike, and brother, Dylan. Whenever I write about them, it gives me a warm feeling. They have their flaws, their weaknesses, but no matter what they go through, they go through it together. The love they have for each other is their strength. They are a unit, they are a family. I am very happy that Kara has Mike and Dylan. I hope you enjoyed reading them!