Maybe Mum will ask how I cracked the eggs without dropping shells in it.
Maybe Dad will ask for a second plate.
Maybe… I poured the eggs into the pan and watched them sizzle, the smell filling the space slowly, like something warm creeping up behind me.
I stood there in my socks, on tiptoes so I could stir properly, and let the hope grow inside me.
The oil popped a few times, and I jumped back, laughing nervously. My fingers smelled like tomatoes, and I had a smear of egg yolk on my sleeve, but I didn’t care.
I went back to the eggs and added pepper because the boy in the video did. I tried to hum a song, but my throat felt tight, like something was stuck there.
Soon, the scent of toasted bread joined the eggs.
It took me almost three hours. My back hurt a little, and had egg bits stuck to the bottom of the pan because I forgot to lower the heat halfway through. Still, it smelled okay. Like something you could actually eat without frowning.
At least I didn’t really burn anything.
The table was already set. The plates lined up neatly, and napkins were folded into triangles like Caroline did. I even lit one of the tiny candles from the drawer, the ones they used when guests came over. It made the dining look warmer.
I checked the time.
Almost six.
They should be home by now.
I wiped my hands on the dish towel and peeked out the window with my heart thudding, but they were not here yet.
I rushed upstairs and peeled off my school uniform, the collar stained with tomato and egg yolk. The bathroom mirror fogged up quickly, and I didn’t wait for the water to get fully warm. I just scrubbed myself clean and tried not to slip when I ran back out with a towel barely holding around my waist.
I picked out my good shirt. The one with the small buttons that took forever to do up. Caroline used to help with those, but I managed tonight. I wanted to look neat when they walked in and saw the table. I wanted to look like someone worth being proud of.
Downstairs, I wiped the table again, even though it was already clean. I set the plates one more time-white ones for them, the blue-rimmed one for me. Fork on the left. Napkin on the right. I lit the candle again because it went out earlier when I opened the dining window.
Two maids came in. One of them smiled. “Kester, should we-“
“No. I’ve got it,” I said too quickly, “I wanna do this myself. For Mum and Dad.”
They looked at each other but didn’t argue. They knew I was too serious tonight to be stopped.
I sat at the table.
And waited.
And waited…
The eggs were getting cold when the clock hit 7. The toasts were also getting hard.
Did I prepare dinner too early? Would they be displeased at my wrong timing?
But… This was the perfect time we used to have dinner together when I was much younger. Had dinner times changed?
I nervously looked at the time again, and it was almost eighth.
My poor heart began to break Bit by bit.
Maybe they were stuck in traffic.
I was slowly dozing.
I chewed on a piece of toast, but it was hard now. I stopped after one bite.
I laid my head down on the table to rest just for a second.
When I opened my eyes, everything was quiet, and the candle was almost melted all the way down.
Then the door opened.
I sat up fast. My legs were tingly. “Dad?”
He walked in alone. I looked around to see if Mum was behind him, but she was not. When I looked at the clock again, it was already past ten.
Had I slept that much?
“Dad? Where is Mum? I thought you two…” He cut me off.
“We weren’t together, Kester.”
He sounded really tired and angry as if he had had a very bad day. But I guess my dinner would cheer him up. That is, if it hadn’t grown too cold.
I walked to him quickly. “Dad-I made dinner. I made eggs and toast. I even lit a candle. You’re gonna like it, I promise.”
He looked at me expressionless, “I’m tired, Kester.”
“Oh.” I swallowed. “But it’s still warm. I can reheat it. Or-*
“Kester,” he cut in gently, “It’s late. You should be in bed already.”
“But I-” I tried again, but he was already moving upstairs.
“Get some sleep,” he said tiredly. “You shouldn’t still be up.”
“I just wanted us to eat together as a family, Dad,” I said sadly.
“I know,” he said. But he didn’t even stop. He just walked past me without even looking at the meal I prepared.
***
I hadn’t seen the nice little girl again since that day she showed up in our backyard.
Maybe she went on vacation with her parents. Or maybe… maybe she just doesn’t come out much. Some kids weren’t allowed to play outside a lot. I knew that. But I kept looking anyway, just in case
As usual, I was sad and alone again.
Mum and Dad just got into an argument, and I think Dad hit Mum again. I heard it. I don’t know why he always did that. I wish he wouldn’t.”
But I closed my ears and drank some of the sour-smelling stuff I wasn’t supposed to. It burned going down, but it made everything fuzzy. I liked the fuzzy. The fuzzy made things go away.
Before I woke up, the house was empty, and they were nowhere to be seen.
I sat by the window in my room with my cheek against the cold glass watching the yard. I wasn’t interested in anything else. But this time, I wasn’t thinking of jumping off. I was thinking of the little girl who had made me smile on my birthday.
And if saw her again, I’d run to her this time. I wouldn’t just stare like I did before. I’d talk to her. Ask her what her favorite candy was. Tell her mine. Maybe show her my collection of squishy toy monsters. She might like the purple one that glows in the dark. Most people don’t, but I think she would.
I told Caroline about her when I finally got the courage to. Caroline always listened to me whenever I needed someone to talk to.
She had seen the little girl when she wandered into our yard. She had told me the little girl’s name.
Kasmine.
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