an experimental sniff; the basil and tomatoes wafting toward her were unmistakable, and her mouth watered.
15
“You didn’t have to cook,” she said, entering the room. She went straight to the fridge and tried not to groan when she opened the door. The shelves were practically bare, save for a half-empty milk jug, a carton of eggs, and a couple of bottles of water. Just enough to get the kids through breakfast tomorrow. Thank goodness it was also payday. She would go grocery shopping on her way home. She grabbed a water and closed the door.
Melvin turned, an easy smile on his boyish face. “I heard the munchkins harassing you when you arrived. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. I have to leave in a bit, but I will be back before you go to work tonight.”
Symmone sat down, breaking the seal on the bottle. She set the bottle on the scarred wooden 16
table without drinking any. Work. Tonight. A sigh escaped her lips. Just once she’d like to come home and not have to go out again, but that’s the price she paid for raising her children alone.
“Don’t remind me.”
He chuckled. “The kids are done with their homework, they have field trip forms which require your signature, and parent-teacher conferences are next week. You need to pick a date and time.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I know the drill.”
He sat across from her. “So how was your day?”
She raised the bottle to her lips, thought a moment, then lowered the water to the table again. “Guess who came into the café today.”
Melvin tilted his head to the side. “My mother.”
17
She barked a short laugh; getting her Aunt Cynthia, Melvin’s mother, to walk into a restaurant would be no mean feat. The woman had a phobia about places where she couldn’t see her food being prepared.
“Nope.” Symmone glanced around, leaned across the table, and kept her voice to a hoarse whisper. “Leo.”
Melvin sat back, eyes wide and mouth open.
“No way! What did he want?”
She gave a careless shrug, belying the nervousness clutching at her since the moment he walked into the café. “He wanted to take me to dinner.”
“What?”
She nodded. “Gave me his business card and everything.”
18
Melvin shook his head. “I can’t believe he would come back after all this time. So are you going out with him?”
She inhaled the water she was drinking instead of swallowing. A coughing spasm shook her body as she tried to expel the offending fluid.
“No,” she said when she finally recovered her voice.
“Why not? You’re not dating anyone else, and if I’m not mistaken, you’re still in love with him.”
A spark of truth resonated in his words, but she didn’t want to acknowledge them. “That aside, the answer is still ‘no’.”
“Has it been five minutes?” LJ yelled from the other room.
19
Symmone chuckled, the tension easing from her shoulders. “And I have more important things to focus on right now.” She pushed her chair away from the table and stood. “Yes.”
****
Late in the evening, Symmone stood in the middle of the hall between her children’s bedrooms, the only two bedrooms in the house. She slept on the foldout in the living room and kept her clothes in a beat-up bureau that doubled as a TV
stand.
Ten years, two kids, and one failed marriage. Children she should’ve told Leo about by now. Symmone veered left into an ancient bathroom and flicked on the shower. Though in need of updating, just like the rest of the house, it served the occupants’ needs. Toilet, shower, sink.
20
That was all. Still, some days she would love the luxury of soaking in a large whirlpool tub, but right now she’d settle for a working showerhead. The water sprinkled from above.
Refreshed, dried off, and dressed for her second job, she paced the living room. Three nights a week she cleaned office buildings, in addition to working full-time at the café. And on those three days her cousin Melvin spent the night. Often he
15
“You didn’t have to cook,” she said, entering the room. She went straight to the fridge and tried not to groan when she opened the door. The shelves were practically bare, save for a half-empty milk jug, a carton of eggs, and a couple of bottles of water. Just enough to get the kids through breakfast tomorrow. Thank goodness it was also payday. She would go grocery shopping on her way home. She grabbed a water and closed the door.
Melvin turned, an easy smile on his boyish face. “I heard the munchkins harassing you when you arrived. Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. I have to leave in a bit, but I will be back before you go to work tonight.”
Symmone sat down, breaking the seal on the bottle. She set the bottle on the scarred wooden 16
table without drinking any. Work. Tonight. A sigh escaped her lips. Just once she’d like to come home and not have to go out again, but that’s the price she paid for raising her children alone.
“Don’t remind me.”
He chuckled. “The kids are done with their homework, they have field trip forms which require your signature, and parent-teacher conferences are next week. You need to pick a date and time.”
She nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I know the drill.”
He sat across from her. “So how was your day?”
She raised the bottle to her lips, thought a moment, then lowered the water to the table again. “Guess who came into the café today.”
Melvin tilted his head to the side. “My mother.”
17
She barked a short laugh; getting her Aunt Cynthia, Melvin’s mother, to walk into a restaurant would be no mean feat. The woman had a phobia about places where she couldn’t see her food being prepared.
“Nope.” Symmone glanced around, leaned across the table, and kept her voice to a hoarse whisper. “Leo.”
Melvin sat back, eyes wide and mouth open.
“No way! What did he want?”
She gave a careless shrug, belying the nervousness clutching at her since the moment he walked into the café. “He wanted to take me to dinner.”
“What?”
She nodded. “Gave me his business card and everything.”
18
Melvin shook his head. “I can’t believe he would come back after all this time. So are you going out with him?”
She inhaled the water she was drinking instead of swallowing. A coughing spasm shook her body as she tried to expel the offending fluid.
“No,” she said when she finally recovered her voice.
“Why not? You’re not dating anyone else, and if I’m not mistaken, you’re still in love with him.”
A spark of truth resonated in his words, but she didn’t want to acknowledge them. “That aside, the answer is still ‘no’.”
“Has it been five minutes?” LJ yelled from the other room.
19
Symmone chuckled, the tension easing from her shoulders. “And I have more important things to focus on right now.” She pushed her chair away from the table and stood. “Yes.”
****
Late in the evening, Symmone stood in the middle of the hall between her children’s bedrooms, the only two bedrooms in the house. She slept on the foldout in the living room and kept her clothes in a beat-up bureau that doubled as a TV
stand.
Ten years, two kids, and one failed marriage. Children she should’ve told Leo about by now. Symmone veered left into an ancient bathroom and flicked on the shower. Though in need of updating, just like the rest of the house, it served the occupants’ needs. Toilet, shower, sink.
20
That was all. Still, some days she would love the luxury of soaking in a large whirlpool tub, but right now she’d settle for a working showerhead. The water sprinkled from above.
Refreshed, dried off, and dressed for her second job, she paced the living room. Three nights a week she cleaned office buildings, in addition to working full-time at the café. And on those three days her cousin Melvin spent the night. Often he
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