5 - Dakarai/Shut up, Mom/

I place a thin sheet of parchment paper and gently spread it on the second baking sheet. I leave the two baking pans on the counter and double-check to make sure that the oven is still on.

“Hey, what temperature do I need to preheat the oven for, again?”

3 am baking, is a stupid, dangerous activity. But, when your stupid, dangerous girlfriend tries to keep your mind off of burying you in work. I guess this is it. Which I mean, I´m here for. Well, no, I am not. Everything in my bones is telling me that I´m wasting my time. Everything in my bones wants to go somewhere else.

Ja’Hira, who is still on the phone, answers. “Still 350°F hasn’t changed the last three times, you’ll be fine..”

Having known me for so long, the fact that she knows me inside out isn´t a quiet one. If anyone else were tasked to give me something to do. They´d say ¨You work too much, Dakarai! Go and eat a gallon of ice cream ¨ or ¨Hey! Why not just watch a movie?¨. Of course, they’re all well-meaning. But(not to sugar-coat it too much buuut) I would drive myself utterly insane.

My mind is always awake. Even when my bones are sleeping. Even when I die, probably. My brain will still need something to do. My hands always need to be moving. My eyes always need to be focused. So, Ja´Hira knew that making me bake Lemon Poppy Seed Cookies was what I had to admit to being well-planned. Because,( 1. I had seen this recipe and it was already in my ¨ to-do´s ¨. Creating the illusion that I had actually done something with my time,) and (2. It keeps me moving. I´m not slouching around. I´m measuring, mixing, cooling, heating).

I keep the phone in my back pocket and walk away toward the counter, “Hey! I just want to make sure I don’t burn the house down. Plus, you know my mom would kill me.”

A voice exclaims, “Oh will she?”

I fall back against the counter and shriek, “Mom!”

Thin eyebrows raised in question, lips perched in her typical mirthful way. Stood Mama Taylor. My mother. The one and only.

Her stark black hair and small patches of greys and white strands frame her face resting in newly done braids. Although it is 3 in the morning, she isn’t dressed in her Sunday church clothes, or the boldest, grandest jewels alive; but still even half-asleep my mother was beautiful. She wore this bright yellow shirt that read ¨Love!¨, and a pair of baggy sweatpants.

“Oh my lord! Child!”, she rushes to me and helps me up. I laugh loudly and balance my arms on hers, just kind of resting them there. “Now, why are you up, huh Dakarai?”

I took a good look around the kitchen then down at my mismatched socks and pajamas. “I was just making some Lemon Poppy cookies….”

She purses her lips, “Hmmm, you lyin´ to me?”

Don’t you just hate it when telling the truth sounds like the stupidest of lies?

“Yeah, of course.” I put on a cheeky smile, just to seal it all off.

“Ja’Hira, my girl, is he actually making the…what is it?”

I offer, “Lemon poppy seed cookies?”

“Ah yes! Is he telling the truth?” At first, I think she is asking herself this question out loud. Besides, it was such a blunt thing to say. I come to the realization that I´m wrong. She instead is asking my horribly blunt girlfriend.

I take my phone out of my pocket and hold it in my right hand so we can both see the screen. As we wait for my girlfriend to respond, all we can hear is her quiet chuckling.

Oh no.

“No no, Mrs. T. Everything is alright, I’m just making this one take a little break, that’s all!”

I let out a sigh of relief, as my mom gives me a look that reads “Of course, I believe you” and “I don’t believe you” all at once. Yet, she smiles and gets so close to the phone’s speaker that her lips were touching it.

Since I´ve known Ja´Hira for so long, my mom has had to as well. Our parents became close friends vaguely after our childhood friendship had started. It honestly happened overnight. All of a sudden Mrs. Taylor(my mom!) and Ja´Hira´s grandpa, Mr. Chaibi. When our guardians became friends, I don´t know. I honestly don´t think young Dakarai OR your Ja´Hira paid attention to any of that. No, instead what we focused on was this stupid fantasy world we created. Together. I think. That´s what made it better.

Knowing that it wasn't something inspired off of a movie, or a comic. It was ours. ¨Ja´Hira´s and Dakarai´s¨. She says, we just didn´t want to get copy-written if our idea ever got too big. But, I know that´s not true. And I know she does too. Our World was one where one could go and never truly come back. The setting of Our World was never truly definite, that was what made it what it was. Like a blank drawing board. You can go and let your imagination run wild, insane even. Back then, we never had thought that we had ever needed to define this world of course, and we never truly felt differently.

I whisper a quick, “Mom, you don’t need to be that close to the phone.”

“No! But what if she doesn’t hear me?”

“No no, she’ll hear you just fine.”

Mom nods and rolls her eyes while doing so. But, I don’t think she really believed me, because she decides to raise her voice. Thinking Ja’Hira still can't hear her. “OH REALLY? WELL, I BELIEVE YOU, GIRLIE. THANK YOU. CAN YOU HEAR ME?”

I can tell Ja’Hira is holding in the biggest, heartiest laugh on the other side of the phone. “I…..I can hear you just fine, Mrs. Taylor.”

My mom smiles and winks at me. Why I don’t know. But as she opens her mouth I quickly put an arm on her shoulder. “Mom-Clifford is-” I bring my voice to a whisper “sleeping.”

She matches my tone, “The dog? All he does is sleep?”

“Well, speaking of sleep, why aren’t you sleeping?” I ask. “Don’t you start your new job at that little bakery tomorrow?”

She sighs, “Ahhh yes. I am very excited. I don’t know much about the place. I’ve been the manager for small places before, but never a big bakery.”

I lean into her side, “Mom, you’ll do just fine, you always do.”

Ja’Hira pipes in, “Yeah, of course, you will! I don’t think they know who they hired, you’ll have that place running faster than ever soon.”

My mom smiles (she smiles a lot) “Awww, thank you, darling. I can try and bring some stuff for you next time you come over, just tell me in advance.”

“Ah, well-”

She playfully pulls my ear, ¨Hey! Not you, you´re girlfriend!¨

I laugh. Ja´Hira doesn´t.

She stays silent. As if she is strategizing her movements and words strictly. Wait. Is something wrong? Is she still a bit upset?

I had called her in the first place to keep me company, and, yknow I wanted to talk to her. I don´t remember anything bad happening. But yes, nothing bad happened then. Had some bad happened now? I let my mind rake over the entire conversation that had come only moments before. Nothing bad. Wait.

The roof of my mouth goes cry. A head begins to feel a mixture of boiling hot and yet sickenly cold all at the same time. A feeling that I´ve grown to recognize as a norm. I´m trying to deal with so much at once. My mind is spinning, I almost feel sick.

Ja´Hira nervously interrupts the silence, ¨Whaaaaaaat!¨

¨Yes yes, whaaaaaat, indeed.¨ My mother adds.

¨Woah, Woah. Wait. Girlfriend?!¨

So here´s the thing. My mom isn´t supposed to know about us. Yeah, we´ve been dating for only a year now. And my mother doesn't know. I know it sounds bad. But, Ja´Hira isn´t comfortable with the thought of my mom knowing. Because she feels my mother would be angry. And I´ve reassured her more times than there are clouds in the sky that she won't be angry. But, she still finds the idea to be uncomfortable. I am-have respected that. But. What does this mean? Ja´Hira doesn’t want this. What am I supposed to do? I am, supposed to support her, watching as my mom does that embarrassing quiz thing with us. Is not supportive. Especially if this isn´t something she wants.

So. It´s understood that I´m going to have to lie both of us out of this. On my side, at least. But, that typically doesn't go well when I--you know. Lie. Don’t get me wrong. Having been brought up in this century, lying isn't something I´m bad at. (At least I´m told) That I can make sticky deals and agreements so dense, and so deep that I can´t dig myself out of them later. In other words, I can blabber up a brilliant lie. It´s the ¨having to work with the lie¨ part that I apparently am not well with.

I wheeze and cross my arms, ¨Pshtt-just because I´m a boy, and she´s a girl? That doesn't necessarily mean she could ever be my girlfriend. Nor would I ever be a strictly hers-her boyfriend.¨

Okay. Maybe I am not a good liar. But, that’s another good reason Ja´Hira and I work. She is.

She cooly adds, ¨Yes ma´am. All he will ever be is friend material in my eyes. Sorry if you got the wrong impression.¨

My mom rolls her eyes and makes her way across the kitchen. ¨Oh? Do you know how much dirt I´ve got to prove the both of you wrong?¨

Ja´Hira laughs. This time, I don´t. At first glance, my mom and dirt would never be associated with each other. But, she knows everything about everything. She was the first one to know about Cousin Marley´s engagement, Sarah´s pregnancy, and my auntie and uncle's divorce. She knows. Being her son, the first one to ever hear the tea that she gets from work, I know of her potential when it comes to finding information when she needs it. Ja´Hira. Well, the poor girl has no clue.