The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Daddy’s Just Icing On The Cake
by Melissa R. Mendelson 

“When’s Daddy coming home?”

My mother paused mid-wash, her fingers folding over a plate.  She glanced over her shoulder, the marks on her face were finally disappearing.  Her eyes moved from my sister over to me, and she smiled.  I haven’t seen that smile in a very long time.

“Soon.”  She finished washing the dishes, placing them on a towel near the sink.

“Can we eat the cake now?”

My mother dropped a fork, the metal bounced off the floor.

“Holly, stop bothering Mom,” I said as I sat at the kitchen table.

“I’m not bothering Mom.”  Holly shoved part of a brownie into her mouth.  “I’m just asking.”  Bits of the brownie fell into her plate.

“Isn’t the brownie enough?”  I asked.  “And don’t talk with your mouth full.  It’s gross.”  I glanced over my shoulder at the fridge.  The cake was safe for now.

“I want a piece of the cake.”  Holly finished her brownie.  “That cake has been sitting up there for weeks.  Why can’t I have a piece?  Just one piece.  Mom?”

“When your father comes home.”  My mother dried her hands with a paper towel.  A large, ugly bruise was finally fading away.  “Not until then.  Now, I have to run out and do a few things.  Are you two girls going to be okay here?”

“Yes, Mom,” I said.  “We won’t burn the house down.”

“That’s not funny, Beth.”

“That’s not funny, Beth.”  Holly laughed, chocolate smeared all over her lips.

“Wipe your mouth, Holly.”  My mother kissed the top of her head.  “Watch your sister, Beth.  I’ll be back soon.”  She exited the kitchen.

“I’m bored,” Holly whined a moment later.

“You just had a brownie,” I said.

“Want to play a game?”  Holly smiled, and I saw that she missed a part of her mouth.

“How about some television?”  I wiped the chocolate off Holly’s face.  “Cartoons?”

“I’m not a baby.  Why can’t I have my iPad?”

“Mom doesn’t like us being on the computer during the weekends.  How about you go outside into the yard?”

Holly hopped off the kitchen chair.  “How about you go outside into the yard?”  She sighed loudly.  “Our neighbor’s dog barks at me.  One of these days, that dog’s going to get into the yard and eat me.”

I laughed.  “That dog’s not vicious.”

“She doesn’t like me.  Of course, she likes you.”  Holly stormed out of the kitchen.

“What’s that supposed to mean?  Holly?  Holly?  Fine.  Be like that.”

When I was satisfied that Holly was occupied with doing something, I moved away from the kitchen table and pushed the chair up against the fridge.  I stepped onto the seat, and the chair wobbled.  But it didn’t fall over, and I was able to look at the cake.  I mean really look at it.

The glass top over the cake gave the impression of snow falling.  It reminded me of a snow globe.  On top of the cake was a small, wooden cabin with a little tree behind it.  There was even a lake, I guess it was supposed to be a lake.  It looked like it had dark blue icing, and there was some kind of snowy, wooden square next to it.  But what really caught my attention was the smoke that drifted out of the cabin.

“Dad,” I whispered.

I could hear the arguments filling my ears.  My mother’s screams.  The sirens.  That was the first night that my father hit me.  It was because I called the police, and it was the last night that I would ever see him again.

The doorbell rang.  I almost fell off the chair.

“Someone’s at the door,” Holly screamed.  “Beth!”

“I heard you,” and the doorbell rang again.  “Hold your horses.”  I moved away from the chair and hurried toward the front door.

The mailman stood outside, looking impatient.  “Package.  Need you to sign.”  He held an electronic pad out to me.  “Full name.  No initials.”

“Got it.”  I quickly signed.  Did I move the chair back?

“Hey.”  The mailman stared at me with that impatient look again.

“What?  You gave me the mail and the package.”

“Your father’s truck.  It’s blocking the mailbox.  Is it going to move any time soon?  I can’t keep bringing the mail to your front door.”

“My father’s not here right now.”  The chair, my mind screamed.

“Well, when’s he coming back?”

“I don’t know!”  I slammed the door shut and threw the mail and the package onto a table nearby.  “Please,” I begged.  “Please.”

I returned to the kitchen.  The chair was still by the fridge.  The cake without its snowy top was on the table.

“I just wanted one piece,” Holly said with her mouth full.

“Give me that!”

I grabbed the cake and examined it.  Okay.  The small, wooden cabin with a little tree behind it was untouched.  The lake with the dark blue icing was undisturbed, so was the snowy, wooden square next to it.

“Okay.”  I breathed.  “He’s safe.”

I noticed small tracks on top of the cake.  That was not there before.  The tracks disappeared…. Right where she had cut out a piece.

“Holly?”  I looked at my sister.

Holly smiled at me.  Her teeth red.  An object stuck out on one side of her mouth.  A small man’s shoe.

.

Fiction © Copyright Melissa R. Mendelson
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com.

About Author Melissa R. Mendelson:

Melissa R. Mendelson is the author of the Sci-Fi Novella, Waken.  She also has a prose poetry collection called, This Will Remain With Us published by Wild Ink Publishing.  Her short story collections, Better Off Here, Stories Written Along COVID Walls, and Name’s Keeper can be found on Amazon/Amazon Kindle.

If you’d like to learn more about Melissa, you can visit her accounts here: www.MelissaMendelson.com