picking up the pieces and moving on. Why they didn’t talk about the baby.
He had to do something. If she wouldn’t – couldn’t – then he’d have to step up. Because as she turned toward him and smiled a thin smile, he knew that he wanted these kinds of moments to keep happening, and wanted her smile to be the radiant one he remembered from her childhood.
“Smells good,” he said, shaking loose and stepping into the room.
Alma tossed him another smile over her shoulder and added a dash of some kind of spice from a little red and white canister into the skillet. “Three cheese omelet. I was gonna add some steak, but, um, you’re fresh out of steak. And most everything else.”
“I know,” he said, embarrassed that he hadn’t had some foresight to stock the fridge. Seeing as how he was shacking up with a pregnant girl. He stepped up beside her, hesitated a moment, then hooked his chin over her shoulder and slid an arm around her waist because he was dying to do that.
“I can go by the store today.”
And wouldn’t that be homey and cozy. He flattened his palm over her belly. “I thought you were gonna shop your resume around today.”
“Well, yeah, but I can pick up some food too. Won’t take long.” But he feared that meant she would use the excuse to avoid searching for employment. Again.
Not your problem, he’d told himself before. But wasn’t it? He was supposed to watch out for Alma – and even though that probably didn’t include fucking her – it more than likely encompassed ensuring that she was financially steady on her feet and not struggling with poverty. He himself was by no means about to be evicted, but he didn’t make enough to take care of a woman and a baby…
Stop! He screamed internally. He kept doing that, kept fitting Alma in with the other pieces of his life, kept incorporating her into his imaginary future.
His phone rang, and he was thankful for the break from his mental scolding. A quick check of the display showed it was Sean. “I gotta take this,” he said, stepping away from the stove, and Alma, heading back toward the bedroom. He thought her eyes followed him, so he pushed the door to.
“Sean.”
Noise on the other end of the line indicated that the dealer was driving. “Hear you been trying to get a hole of me.”
“About a week now,” he said impatiently.
Sean chuckled. “Impatient little shit, ain’t ya? Alright, where are you?”
“Home.”
“Alone?”
“Not exactly…”
Sean sighed. “I’m headed up to your neck of the woods anyway. Can you meet me in two hours?”
“I’ll make it work.”
**
Something was off with Carlos. As she pushed a cart through Kroger, filling it full of the tasty things she was craving, she chose to worry about her roommate as of the past couple of weeks rather than her own problems. Her problems were monstrous, Carlos’s were puzzling and had captured her attention that morning. It was easier to dwell on another’s strife than her own. Because if she stopped to think about her dead husband, growing belly, current state of unemployment and the rift with her mother, she would become a limp puddle of misery right here in the middle of the grocery store. So instead she tapped her fingernails across the labels of the canned veggies and asked herself why Carlos had been so removed that morning.
The more time she spent with him, the more she saw how unsettled he was. He didn’t push her away, though, quite
He had to do something. If she wouldn’t – couldn’t – then he’d have to step up. Because as she turned toward him and smiled a thin smile, he knew that he wanted these kinds of moments to keep happening, and wanted her smile to be the radiant one he remembered from her childhood.
“Smells good,” he said, shaking loose and stepping into the room.
Alma tossed him another smile over her shoulder and added a dash of some kind of spice from a little red and white canister into the skillet. “Three cheese omelet. I was gonna add some steak, but, um, you’re fresh out of steak. And most everything else.”
“I know,” he said, embarrassed that he hadn’t had some foresight to stock the fridge. Seeing as how he was shacking up with a pregnant girl. He stepped up beside her, hesitated a moment, then hooked his chin over her shoulder and slid an arm around her waist because he was dying to do that.
“I can go by the store today.”
And wouldn’t that be homey and cozy. He flattened his palm over her belly. “I thought you were gonna shop your resume around today.”
“Well, yeah, but I can pick up some food too. Won’t take long.” But he feared that meant she would use the excuse to avoid searching for employment. Again.
Not your problem, he’d told himself before. But wasn’t it? He was supposed to watch out for Alma – and even though that probably didn’t include fucking her – it more than likely encompassed ensuring that she was financially steady on her feet and not struggling with poverty. He himself was by no means about to be evicted, but he didn’t make enough to take care of a woman and a baby…
Stop! He screamed internally. He kept doing that, kept fitting Alma in with the other pieces of his life, kept incorporating her into his imaginary future.
His phone rang, and he was thankful for the break from his mental scolding. A quick check of the display showed it was Sean. “I gotta take this,” he said, stepping away from the stove, and Alma, heading back toward the bedroom. He thought her eyes followed him, so he pushed the door to.
“Sean.”
Noise on the other end of the line indicated that the dealer was driving. “Hear you been trying to get a hole of me.”
“About a week now,” he said impatiently.
Sean chuckled. “Impatient little shit, ain’t ya? Alright, where are you?”
“Home.”
“Alone?”
“Not exactly…”
Sean sighed. “I’m headed up to your neck of the woods anyway. Can you meet me in two hours?”
“I’ll make it work.”
**
Something was off with Carlos. As she pushed a cart through Kroger, filling it full of the tasty things she was craving, she chose to worry about her roommate as of the past couple of weeks rather than her own problems. Her problems were monstrous, Carlos’s were puzzling and had captured her attention that morning. It was easier to dwell on another’s strife than her own. Because if she stopped to think about her dead husband, growing belly, current state of unemployment and the rift with her mother, she would become a limp puddle of misery right here in the middle of the grocery store. So instead she tapped her fingernails across the labels of the canned veggies and asked herself why Carlos had been so removed that morning.
The more time she spent with him, the more she saw how unsettled he was. He didn’t push her away, though, quite
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