Empty. Empty and quiet. I hated it. Then again, I was just a kid who absolutely hated quiet! I loved being around people, all kinds of people. The older the people, the better. At eight, adults were way more interesting than kids my own age. But right now, it was just our family. Me. Dad. Emily and Joe. Mom ran to McDonald’s, knowing we were exhausted and hungry. Personally, I think Mom needed a break from Emily and Joe.

“Dad, when’s Mom getting back?” Emily whined, more than asked. “I’m really hungry.”

“Me too,” Joe chimed in. Our phone was disconnected two days ago, and car phones were gaining popularity outside our family’s price range. Mom would get Joe his first cell phone right before his last year in high school after Dad died.

Dad smiled. “Guys. Mom’s not here. You know what that means?” He winked at us. Emily giggled. Joe grinned. I rolled my eyes. “Not another one of your ‘brilliant ideas,’ Dad. Mom’s not going to be okay with that.” Someone had to keep Dad’s adventurous spirit in check. Emily and Joe weren’t going to, so it was my responsibility. Obviously, at least that’s what I thought.

Grabbing a cardboard Uhaul box, Dad ran straight up the stairs to the third floor. The now empty house was three stories, and our staircase? It wasn’t the typical kind. It didn’t go straight up and down each level. No. It spiraled wide enough for four adults to move up and down without their shoulders touching each other. I was never good at measurements, so I couldn’t tell you how many feet wide it was, but it was big. And for kids? It was massive!

One time, Dad let us slide down one flight on a blanket, but Mom heard about it and gave Dad an earful. We never did that again. At least that Mom knows about.

“Come on, guys! Grab a box. Get up here!” Emily grabbed an unfolded box and dragged it up the three floors. Joe tried to get a box but couldn’t keep ahold of it, so I helped him drag it to the top. “Dad, this is a really terrible idea. What if someone gets hurt?”

“Are you scared of some stairs, Nate? Seriously. Grow a pair, will you? You are twelve. Get over being afraid of what Mom’s going to do. Okay, guys. Watch me.” Dad sat on the box and edged it over the first step, folding the front edge over his feet. “Hold it like this. Or you can do this,” he said, letting go of the front and gripping the sides. “Either way works. Just hold on and,” he pushed himself over the edge, “GO!” We watched him bounce off every step all the way to the bottom. He screamed, “Oh yeah! That was freaking awesome!”

Emily, never afraid of anything remotely scary, sat down, grabbed the bottom edge, and pushed herself over the edge. “Whee!” Her hair whipped out behind her until she hit the last set of stairs. Dad watched her from the bottom, hit the tenth stair from the bottom, flying head first into his arms. Dad scooped her up without missing a beat, like a baseball outfielder. “Yeah, Daddy!” Emily squealed. “You rock, kiddo!” Dad shouted back. “That was so cool!”

That’s when our fun ended. Mom opened the front door, her left hand holding a couple of McDonald’s paper bags. Balanced in the middle of her right hand was a cardboard tray holding five drinks, the fifth shoved between the others. “What’s going on?” she asked. Joe grabbed his box and threw it down the stairs, forgetting to get on it. “Aw, man!” he yelled. The box slid down all three flights, resting at Mom’s feet.

Emily knew better than to say a word, so she slid behind Dad, waiting for Mom’s angry voice. “Mhmm. Tony? Do you want to explain this to me? Or should I ask Joe?”

Tony grabbed the drinks, setting them down on the marble flooring. “Heather,” Tony started to say, but before he could finish his sentence, she ripped the box off the floor, bolting up the stairs like an Olympic sprinter. “Come on, Jojo! We’re going down the stairs!” Snatching Joe from the landing, Mom put him between her legs, wrapping the end of the box over her feet. Before any of us knew what was going on, Mom and Joe came flying down the stairs, Joe laughing and screaming the entire time. Even Mom was laughing.

Dad grabbed a Coke and a straw, throwing the paper wrapper on the floor. “Dad,” Emily said, pointing at the wrapper, “are you going to pick that up?” Dad smiled, watching Heather playfully tickle Joe. “Nope,” he said, smiling.

“Can I do that, Dad?” Joe asked.

“Go for it,” Dad said. He laughed, watching Heather lay on the carpeted floor, smiling. “Anyone else hungry?” Dad opened the bags, passing out food to all of us. I came downstairs and saw Mom smiling, sitting cross-legged on the carpet.

Our last day in that house is one of my favorite memories.