Page 16 of Challenged By You
“We were six. His wife died a few years ago.” I impart the information brusquely, but my heart cracks wide open. She doesn’t recognize it, but a myriad of emotions crosses her face as a mother, a woman, and simply, a human. All of whom are empathetic. I don’t know what she reads on my face, but she must get the signal to change the subject.
“Okay, who’s ready for their sweet toast?” she announces to her kids. High-pitched squeals erupt in the kitchen.
“It’s outstanding,” I proclaim as I shove in another forkful.
Chris rewards me by blowing a raspberry in my direction, pointing at my empty plate, and declaring, “Bad,” with a harrumph in his voice. I lose it laughing thinking he’s playing with me.
Annie giggles in Trina’s arms. Chris crosses his arms and says, “No, Nono. Bad!”
“What?” I lay down my fork while I try to regain my composure. “Was it something I said?”
“More like something you did. You ate without him,” Trina explains.
“Oh.” Instead of blowing him off because he’s a child, I do something I think more adults should do when they’re wrong: I apologize. “You’re right, Chris. That was terribly rude. I should have waited. I’m sorry.”
Chris appears to think about it before deciding my fate. “Okay, Nono,” he says, before shoving a bite of french toast in his own mouth.
After making sure Annie’s settled, Trina forks up a bite of her piece and a half of toast. She chews and swallows, then informs me, “I’d do just about anything in order to have these moments with the kids.”
An odd feeling churns in my gut. “Even put up with a job you hated?”
“How do you know…well, yes. I’d do that as well.”
Leaning forward, I brace my forearms against the cheap table before dropping a bomb on her. Best to get it out of the way. “Because I was outside the door when you laid into Chef Spencer. You stood up not only for yourself but for every employee in that kitchen.”
I’m still trying to remember how to breathe when I finish. “I went in to apologize and heard—”
“Everything,” she finishes grimly.
“Yes. But here’s the thing, Trina. As much as you may not believe this, I appreciate this side of who you are. I was flung back in time to when I wasn’t much older than they are—” I nod at her children, before continuing. “—and overhearing a very similar conversation between my mother and uncle. Mom loved being a nurse but was having a problem working at the hospital because of a rude administrator. We didn’t always have the financial stability we enjoy now. Mom had two twin boys to raise. Uncle Karlson was working at a major newspaper in the city. Hell, he hadn’t been married to Aunt Lucy for long, if memory serves. There wasn’t a spare nickel between the three of them, not until after Mom died. Karlson used his part of Mom’s life insurance to establishCity Lights, while saving ours for our education. Close to thirty years later, the afternoon I walked in to apologize at Seduction, I was able to make a difference because it was the right thing to do. Wouldn’t you?” Sitting back, I await my judgment.
In the meanwhile, Chris is using the last of his french toast stick to paint his tray. In Trina’s lap, Annie’s dunking hers over and over like it’s a diver in a pool. And to my right is a woman I don’t know but who is becoming more and more riveting by the moment.
Maybe I stepped in where I shouldn’t, but I did so for all the right reasons.
So, I’m grateful when her mental decision is made and she only asks, “What is it you expect this month to entail? I’m warning you, it’d better not do anything to interrupt my schedule with my children.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I do have to ask one thing?’
“What’s that?”
“If you could take the kids and get the best food for lunch in the area that isn’t a chain, where would you go?” Before she can answer, I go on. “Because that’s the first place I want to review.”
A wide smile spreads across her face. “Oh, that’s easy.” Then Trina proceeds to tell me about a Bronx pizzeria that’s been around for over sixty years, tantalizing me.
As if I hadn’t been from the second I walked through her apartment door.
Chapter 7
Jonas
“Who are you and when you find my brother, tell him it’s too early to call,” Julian yawns in my ear.
“I’m keeping a new schedule these days. By the way, the use of ‘Whatcha’ in your column really adds a certain flair about it. Was it deliberate?” My lips curve with suppressed laughter even as I’m reaching for my third cup of coffee.
“I didn’t use—” There’s a stillness on the other end of the line before Julian groans.
“Just saw it?”
