Trinity smiled in return, sighing as the key slid into the slot. She fiddled with it a couple of times, trying to get it to open. It could be difficult sometimes.
Feeling frazzled as the load on her hip threatened to slip down, she tried to pay attention to her five-year-old daughter. The little girl inherited her mother’s luminous, amber eyes that shone with heights of emotion, and her dark hair with large curls, trailing to her nape.
Trinity wore her own hair in a tight ponytail high on her head, different from the little girl's scattered, sweet disarray, accented with a blue ribbon stuck at a jaunty angle, which was slowly sliding off.
Trinity hiked the grocery bags up again, wondering why she insisted on taking it all up on one trip. Usually, it worked, but she always forgot about the lock’s unruly temperament, and a steady stream of sweat streaked down her back. In the stress, she couldn’t help the pity party drifting through her thoughts.
Thankfully, her baby remained in high spirits, recalling her school day events.
She twisted the key again, and this time she heard the telltale click.
Finally!
She sighed inwardly, elbowing the door open. She let Miranda slip in first, then followed, nudging it shut with her toe. She ran quickly to the kitchen and dropped the bag down before it did real damage to her hand.
With one huge sigh, she dumped the rest of her bags on the kitchen counter before they fell on the floor.
"Yay, Mommy!" Miranda called from the other side of the small kitchen, revealing she had caught her mom’s victory.
"Can I get a hug?" Trinity asked and barely braced herself before the little girl launched in her direction.
She caught the child and hugged her close, taking time to savor the scent of sweat and sugar. The girl clung to her, arms wrapping around Trinity’s neck with the force of steel as she lay her head on her shoulder.
"Love you, Mommy."
"Love you more, Mira,” she replied, crouching down to place the little girl on the ground. "Go change up and play in the sitting room while Mommy makes dinner."
"Can I watch SpongeBob?"
"Yes Mira, but only for an hour, alright?"
"Okay, Mommy." Miranda bounded down the hall to their shared bedroom.
Trinity sighed, watching her little girl dip into their bedroom, then focused on the chore of putting the groceries away.
Her cousin, Janaye, made a fuss when things were not in their assigned places. Trinity was assigned strict rules about her own side of kitchen cupboards, sections of the freezer, and her bedroom.
Trinity’s belongings could not spill over into her cousin’s place, but the rule obviously did not apply in the reverse — Janaye made no bones about 'borrowing' her things and not paying it back.
But beggars could not be choosers, and she could not afford to even think of being huffy or showing any hint of displeasure. If she did, she was sure the tenuous bond of kindness would break and she would find herself on the streets with no home for her daughter.
The faint strains of the SpongeBob SquarePants theme song filtered into the kitchen and jolted her awake from a reverie.
Dinner, now.She scolded herself and placed a pot filled halfway to the brim with water on top of the burner.
After fifteen minutes of cooking, she strained the boiled pasta and threw together the makings for sauce before she went into the living room to get her daughter.
The TV was one of those things Trinity was supposedly allowed to use, but it never worked out that way. Janaye made it clear that she was less than ecstatic about letting them use it and would get mad if it wasn’t onE!when she was ready to watch.
"Mira, your hour is up," Trinity called, depressed that she had to cut her daughter's leisure time. A little girl needed time to relax too, not stealing furtive moments to watch TV before being banished to her room. It felt too much like punishment.
"Aww, Mommy. Two more minutes." Miranda turned her liquid brown eyes at her mother, but to no avail.
"No, come along now, darling, before Aunt Janaye comes back.” As an incentive, she added, “You can play in our room."
The thought of an encounter with her aunt had quickly driven Miranda out of the room and it broke Trinity’s heart.
I wish I had a home of our own where I could love and take care of Miranda in peace.Each passing day she wished the same thing, but her situation was not easing, and it seemed that her wishes would stay that way — just wishes.
