Page 9 of Jagged Edges

All she taught me how to do was survive and I was sick of it. I wanted to rest for once without looking over my shoulder, wondering where my next shower would come from, or sleeping in the wilderness with compromised safety. I was tired and there was no other way to put it. Exhaustion was in the way that I walked, talked, dressed, and behaved. I wore it like a tattoo on my heavily creamed coffee complexion.

I just wanted a break.

My climbup the stairs and walk into the kitchen were far from glorious. Hadn’t I been aware that this was probably my only home-cooked meal for the remainder of the week, I would’ve continued burying my sorrows in the basement. But, I couldn’t. It would only worry Melonie much more than necessary and leave me with an empty stomach before work.

“Good morning,” Mr. Frank was the first to acknowledge me.

With everyone sitting at the table, chatting amongst each other but stopping once I walked in, I felt as if I’d walked into an intervention. One by one, I placed a foot in front of the other. My anxiety was in overdrive and I was overthinking every single thing along the way.

“Morning, everyone,” I responded, lowly. My energy was nonexistent.

“Brisk,” Melonie warmed me right up, “I saved you a seat.”

Her cheerfulness was contagious, causing my stride to quicken and negative thoughts to subside. Looking up, I attempted to gauge the distance between me and the seat she’d saved for me. Bad decision.

One.

Two.

Three.

I counted, inhaling and exhaling with each breath. My palms perspired as the room began to cave to my existence. With my nerve endings splitting by the dozens, I wanted nothing more than to run in the opposite direction. But, I couldn’t. So, I continued.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Finally reaching the chair that had been reserved for me, I extended an arm to grab it. Only to be halted in the process. The musk and woodsiness that I recalled from the previous night snaked my nostrils, plummeted down my throat, and tickled my beet red vessel.

“Work early in the morning?” He questioned in a hushed tone as he neared me and pulled out my chair.

The lie.I remembered it as vividly as I did the effect this man had over me. They were both too much to consider. Too much to even think about. So, I didn’t.

“You made my plate,” I smiled thankfully at Melonie.

“I did. I even put a fruit bowl together and made you something to go for work later,” she revealed, pointing her fork in the direction of the fridge where I imagined my second helping was.

“Thanks, but you really didn’t have to.”

“Yes, I did,” she affirmed with a wink as I slid into my seat.

“Thanks, Mr. Frank. I’m sure everything tastes as good as it looks. I smelled it all the way downstairs.”

“And, I think I must’ve had a little too much to drink last night because I can’t put none of it on my stomach,” Mrs. Frank announced, pushing her plate forward.

“Again, happy birthday,” I chuckled, “You were so beautiful last night.”

“Thanks, baby. So were you girls.”

“Speaking of birthdays,” Melonie teased, “Someone has a birthday coming up, right?”

“Melonie,” I sighed. She knew how I felt about my birthday and why I refused to acknowledge it. “It’s just another day.”

“Not in my book!”

“Mine, either,” her mom followed.

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