Mom and Emily chatted more than they ate, but it was nice to listen to their lively conversation. It was a great way of letting them get to know each other, most of their discussions revolved around plans of future studies and school in general, along with some smidges of family and wellbeing. I didn’t say much, I felt content in staying quiet while they were talking, it was comforting in a way.
I stood up to clean off the table after everyone had finished eating, they were still talking as I loaded everything into the dishwasher and started it. I only picked up snippets of their conversation while my back was turned against them, at some point I had stopped listening. The feeling of someone touching my shoulder shocked me. Mom stood by my side, facing Emily as she kept talking.
“…But we don’t travel that often, mom would rather work, so it’s kinda just me and dad going on trips when there’s time,” she said.
“That’s nice! Apart from your mother and her work, but the other thing, with your dad, that’s nice.” Mom smiled, she was trying to make the best out of it, she always did. “We mostly stay at home or visit family. I don’t think we’ve travelled since Mike was two or something.”
“Really? Oh, is it because of his d—” I coughed to interrupt Emily, mom glanced at me, the look in her eyes switched from caring to almost contempt. There was a lingering silence in the kitchen, the dishwasher kept whirring, unfazed by the gloomy mood. I turned to look at Emily, she was confused. I raised my eyebrows at her and subtly tilted my head towards mom before I looked the other way.
It took her a moment to realize what I signaled; mom was withdrawing from the conversation. There was a hasty breath before she spoke: “Right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Mom waved it off with a sigh, “Don’t worry, honey. It’s in the past.” Even though she was trying to make the situation okay, she was clearly still hurt.
“Anyways…” Her eyes had switched back to the caring kind. She turned to me and placed her hands on my cheeks, it was something she often did to calm both of us down. There was a glimpse of sadness in her gaze when she looked at me. She had almost forgot that she had started talking, she shook her head lightly before she turned to Emily. “…When do you have to be back home? I can drive you if you’d like.”
“Dad was going to call when he could pick me up, it kinda depended on mom and such.”
I felt like I had to say something, but nothing really felt right. I had just gotten to know her, there were so many things I wanted to say. Mom and Emily kept talking, eventually I interrupted them, “you could stay here for a while.” Mom looked at me as if what I had said was forbidden. “What? I mean, we have the guest bedroom. She shouldn’t have to stay at home just because her mom’s forcing her to.” Emily looked at me with wide eyes, a certain kind of hope shone through as her lips curled into an awed smile.
“Can I really stay?”
“Of course, you can stay for ho—”
“Mike. It’s not for you to decide.”
“But her mom’s—”
“I know.”
"I—"
“Is it okay with you if I talk to your dad about this when he comes?”
“Sure, better to talk to him than her.”
Mom excused herself as she ushered us out of the kitchen to answer a call, we sat in the living room and waited for Emily's dad. She seemed content, anyone would feel content if they were given the chance to escape from someone they disliked.
I didn't realize that I had fallen asleep on the couch until I was woken up by the front door being opened. I felt my head jerk, making me sit up straight. Before I could register where I was and what time it was, I heard voices outside. One of them was mom, that was certain, but I didn't recognize the other voice that answered her. Something felt slightly off, it wasn’t often where mom would talk to people without letting them in. I noticed that the second voice belonged to man, for some reason I believed it was dad. But it couldn't be, he wasn't here anymore. The sudden remembrance of what mom had said earlier to Emily made me realize that it was, in fact, her dad. I couldn't discern what they were saying. But from the way Emily was eagerly rocking her feet, it was safe to say that she would stay with us for a while. She was standing in the doorway listening attentively to what they were saying, none of them had noticed that I was awake. There was a moment of playful chit-chat before the two of them retreated inside and the door was closed.
Mom turned towards the couch to wake me up before she stopped.
“Oh, you’re awake already. How much did you hear?”
I couldn’t answer before she continued.
“I will take the guest bedroom, you can take my room. It’s not as cluttered.” Her voice trailed off as she went into the kitchen to other bedroom, some rummaging could be heard coming from the supposed cluttered room. She appeared in the doorframe with folded sheets and duvet covers, they were quite a plain white color. But it was the safest thing to buy and use, especially when my grandparents or my aunt came over. She walked into her bedroom and replaced the bedsheets and covers.
“Oh, that’s not really… Well, thank you. I would’ve slept well either way.” Emily looked over at me. “How far is it to school from here?”
“I’d say around twenty, twenty-five maybe. Depends on how fast you walk, you could probably get there in ten or fifteen if you run. But I’m guessing you don’t wanna run to school.”
She smiled while mom walked into the kitchen with the old bed sheets.
“No, I’d rather walk.”
“You can put your bag in my room, go to bed whenever you feel like it. As long as you wake up in time.” We could hear mom yell from the guest room.
It was getting quite late before we noticed the time, I felt closer to her than I ever had felt towards someone else.
Tuesday
I woke up early the next day, the sound of plates clinking in the kitchen was a part of it. I turned to look at my phone, 6:30 a.m, it was earlier than I usually woke up. The vague smell of fried eggs along with the continuous chopping of a knife made me feel like I was still dreaming, I quickly realized that mom was still sleeping, she usually had the radio turned on when she was in the kitchen. I walked through the otherwise quiet living room and stopped to look into the kitchen. At some point I had forgotten that Emily was staying with us, she stood by the counter chopping bell peppers. It took her a while to notice me, it was until I moved my arm where she jumped back, almost dropping the knife.
“Jesus! Weren’t you told yesterday to not sneak up on people?” She looked down at her arm and winced, placing the knife on the cutting board. She seemed to feel a bit better today, she looked well-rested.
I reached to touch her hand, expecting her to pull it back. But she didn’t. I flipped her arm over and checked for any marks from the knife, she had covered them. “Are you okay?”
“Wh- Oh, yeah. It didn’t hit me. It’s the bandages.”
“Good.” I let her arm go and she resumed to cutting the bell peppers into thin strips. Although I had seen people eating sandwiches with more odd toppings, it still felt a bit weird. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m making sandwiches.” She glanced over at me while the knife followed its own rhythm, letting the hit against the cutting board grow louder than the sound of the strips.
“With… peppers?” The rhythmic chopping stopped as Emily turned to look at me, she was bewildered by my comment.
“Have you… never had bell peppers on a sandwich before? What do you even eat for breakfast? Plain bread?” Her question was genuine, it didn’t feel like she was ridiculing me. She was curious.
“…Sometimes. It’s mostly just butter, cheese, maybe ham.”
“That… Okay, fair enough. Do you want me to make you one? With bell peppers.”
“Sure, I’m open to try it.” She took two more slices of plain white bread and began buttering them. “If my breakfast habits are… plain. What makes yours better?”
She looked over at me when she turned to pick up two slices of cheese, it gave her time to ponder her answer. Emily turned back to the bread slices and continued her prepping. I caught myself looking at her arms, I couldn’t get the image of her blood on my hands out of my mind, I was worrying about someone I didn’t even know. Her arms didn’t look too bad, the bandages weren’t soaked, but there was a beginning of a small crimson red spot slowly becoming noticeable. So that’s why.
Her voice yanked me back to the topic at hand like a yo-yo on a string. “Mine are plain as well, it’s just when my mom makes food it’s always… fancy. The furthest I’ve gone is bell peppers or fried eggs, sometimes both. It’s sort of my comfort food.”
“Huh, sounds like a great sandwich.”
“Right? You’re the second one who agrees with me. Ashley thinks it’s basic, and my parents are just extravagant. It’s only my…“
She paused, her eyes flickered around the countertop as if looking for something else to say. She mouthed words silently to herself before continuing to speak.
“…friend, who thinks like you.” She was smiling to herself while she continued preparing the sandwiches. They looked rather tasty, and very well-made.
“Really? So I’m not unique?”
“Hah, not regarding the fine cuisine of bell pepper sandwiches, no. But now that I think about it, you two would get along well. You have some mutual opinions, interests, humor.”
We continued to talk about her friend and the common denominators between us while we ate the sandwiches she had made. They were very filling; it was a slice of bread with butter and a slice of cheese, a fried egg and topped with a few pieces of chopped bell pepper. I could understand why she considered it her comfort food. It was enjoyable to both look at and eat. After I cleared the table and put the dishes in the sink, we got ready for school. And the attention-hogging devil to be seen as her best friend. Emily was reluctant to go at first, she used the past days as her excuse. But her dad couldn’t keep her mom from noticing that something wasn’t right if she skipped more classes. Yesterday had been a “free day” in her mom’s eyes.
“He had more than enough trouble with convincing her that I was with one of his siblings close-by. She wanted to call them herself, but not me.” She paced around the living room with the phone in her hand, fiddling with the phone case.
“Couldn’t you just call her then?”
She stopped and looked at me annoyed. “Are you gonna pretend to be a middle-aged woman from Boston?”
“Uh…” Emily resumed pacing along the back of the couch.
“Yeah.” She went silent for a bit, contemplated what to say, and let out an irritated groan.
“Alright, okay, I’ll go. As long as you’re there with me.”
“Of course.” I replied, she held out her hand in the form of a fist with her pinky raised outwards.
“Promise?”
I raised my fist out towards Emily, wrapping my pinky finger around hers.
”Promise. It’s my school as well.”
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