Treeshire, UK

jk it's manchester

Even bordering on forty, Olivia Digandi had not overcome her habit of eating durum wheat product at all hours of the night whenever she couldn't sleep. So, there she was, three in the morning, slaving over a boiling saucepan. Suddenly, awakening her from her stupor was a pubescent male voice. "What the fuck, Mom."

"Don't speak to me that way," Olivia said monotonically. "Go to bed."

"Can't sleep." Alexander tossed his black hair out of his eyes and leaned against the counter. "Seriously... what?"

"I'm hungry. Go back to bed."

"Can I have some?" he asked. This warranted him a glare and a begrudging 'Fine'. He smirked. "I sure can!"

"You're a twerp, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah." With a roll of his eyes, Alex moseyed off to the table.

"You were a mistake!" she added.

"Yep!" He'd grown used to these remarks by now. Olivia had been telling him all his life - jokingly, of course - how she'd never wanted kids, how Alex shouldn't have existed, all the rest. His younger, much more naïve sister heard none of it; she probably would have taken it seriously.

Boris stood out in the doorway when Alexander passed by. "Is she eating again?" he asked when his son passed by. He had a few grayed hairs sprouting out with his darker hair, giving it a touch of gray like that Men's hairdye thing. It was shorter too, now, and he had a few wrinkles on his forehead. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. He looked exhausted. "She's crazy,"

"S'up," said Alex, yet again flipping his hair out of his eyes. He took the seat at the end of the table, as no one would tell him otherwise.

"I'm crazy!" Clearly, Olivia was nearly half-asleep. "Is that how things work around here?" That, or she'd been drinking. "Is that it?" The pasta was finished cooking; it had been for a while.

Boris went over to Olivia and pulled her into a hug. "Love, relax. I think you should head to bed. You're clearly delusional." While they were hugging, he reached around her and turned off the gas on the oven. Then he looked back at her and brushed her hair from her face, and kissed her on the forehead. Then he turned around and looked at Alex disapprovingly. "You need a haircut, boy."

Olivia was giving Boris that one look she'd been working on for all those years; though, instead of 'I have no thoughts', it was now more of a 'stop whatever it is you're doing you're pissing me off'.

"Make me, gramps!" Alex retorted. "You throwing that out? What a waste. There are starving children in Africa, you know." With a sigh, he added, "I hate this family." Then, he retreated upstairs; in truth, he hadn't been that hungry to begin with.

"I'm not throwing it out!" Boris called out after him, then shook his head. "Teen angst. And you, clearly, are going through your Midlife crisis. Chill, woman. Sit down. I'll do the cooking from here."

"I am not. I'm not even mid-life, you idiot." Olivia didn't move from her place at the stove, absentmindedly continuing to stir the contents of the pan. "That's, what? Fifty? Fifty. I'm not fifty. I'm not old!"

"Most people don't live to one hundred, love. They live to 80, or 90. Why are you so mad at me?"

"Because! You're harshing my mellow."

"Sorry, I'll back away. That pasta's ready, by the way."

Rachel was knocking on the door to see Olivia.

Which, sure enough, she answered. The dark circles under her eyes she'd had all through her youth had only deepened in hue. Upon seeing Rachel, one corner of her lips upturned. "Well, if it's not Miss Sawyer."

"Mrs." Rachel corrected. "Olivia! How have you been! I haven't seen you in forever! How is everything?"

"Mizz," she corrected herself. "I'm... well, it'll suffice. You've lost weight."

"Mrs." she said, correcting her once again. "And, yes I have." she admitted sheepishly. "I thought I should start eating a little more healthy... but I'm gaining some of it again. But YOU'VE gained weight!" she teased.

Indeed, she had. To someone who hadn't seen her for a year or two, it would be quite noticeable. "Shut up."

Rachel laughed. "Seriously! How have you been?"

"Just fine," she said, forcing the other side of her mouth to smile as well. She stepped aside. "Come in, it's roasting out there."

"Okay, thanks!" And Rachel stepped in, and took a long around. "Wow. It's... messy."

"Aren't you all judge-like today?" Olivia said in offense. "Yours would be worse, no doubt."

"I'm sorry." she apologized. "But, I do keep it clean." Rachel quickly decided to change the subject. "How are your kids?!"

"They're... fine, I don't know. They're fed well enough, if that's what you're getting at."

Rachel whirled around to Olivia, looking just slightly horrified. "What?! Olivia do you neglect your children or something?! Oh, how awful!"

"What? I just said I didn't. If they're unhappy it's their own doing."

Rachel's horror began to grow. "How can you say that?! Don't you know what their favorite color is? Or what they like to do? Or do you even know them?! Or LOVE them?!"