She refused to give up.
Someday, and that someday would be soon, she wanted to bring her baby girl all the love and laughter she deserved.
Trinity returned to the kitchen and checked on the sauce, and saw it was coming along nicely under a low heat, though it should take some time to cook. She decided to take a bath instead of waiting for the pot to simmer.
She was in and out of the bathroom in minutes, barely taking time to allow the water warm her skin — that was a luxury she could ill afford since Janaye often complained about the hot water bill. The entire experience had her feeling like a cat with its fur all rubbed wrong; twitchy, nervous, and anxious.
She looked into their room for one quick moment to catch Miranda braiding the hair of a baby doll before hurrying back to the kitchen.
After checking the sauce, she decided it still needed a little more time to simmer. She picked up the newspaper laying on the kitchen counter and sifted through the classified ads. Every job either required impossible qualifications and touted high pay, or it was at the very limits of drudgery. They were minimum wage, but she could not complain about it.
She slipped into thought easily, remembering the dark days when her daughter needed emergency surgery. They were still overcoming the rain from that storm; the hospital bill was outrageous, and she was still making payments toward it. She thanked God her daughter was doing much better.
She wanted to give Miranda the best Christmas ever, but not on her current budget could she afford anything — nothing was going to happen at her current salary level.
She was a housekeeper at a nursing home, and though she made some money, it just wasn't enough. A large chunk went toward the hospital bills and in addition to that, she had a high number of credit card debts. She also paid for half of the rent, and even though it was a three-bedroom apartment, her cousin refused to let them use the third room. Apart from the Christmas fiasco, there was the obvious issue of her daughter needing glasses.
The surgery, coupled with the fact that she had no health insurance, had hovered away her meager savings and chased them away from having their own apartment. She couldn’t afford the rent anymore, which was why she lived with her cousin.
Not that she would be able to afford moving out anytime soon, but maybe when she was done paying for the appendectomy from last year…
Everything seemed to keep piling up and down in every way possible. Sometimes, when she went about her daily activities, she would meet college girls of roughly the same age as her and their greatest worry was not being able to decide on the type of nail polish color they preferred — not about being married four years, then widowed for the past two and having to deal with the repercussions of having an alcoholic husband who drained their finances and ran up their credit in the time he was alive.
At those moments she felt incredibly old and asinine— how could she not have seen what was going on right under her nose? She had discovered some of the things he had done just a little while after his death, but she did not discover that he had discontinued all their health insurance until the day Miranda was admitted for severe stomach pains. She had stood there gaping like an idiot when her card was rejected, while the cries of her daughter echoed in her ears.
She didn’t have time to dwell on the past, though. She had cut as many corners as she could to ensure her daughter had surgery done, but her scrimping had cost her the apartment. Thankfully, Janaye had taken them in. She was grateful despite the situation being less than ideal.
Lately, Janaye barely spoke to her and when she did, she complained about the smallest things. She barely looked into Trinity’s eyes these days. Trinity was beginning to feel as if they were wearing out their welcome.
Trinity removed the boiling saucepan and called Miranda to dinner. Miranda burst into the kitchen in her usual energetic way, excited over the simple meal of spaghetti and meatballs. Her daughter went to the lower drawer and pulled out two plates and set them on the table. Trinity placed the spaghetti on their plates and they sat down on the chairs to eat.
Trinity was suddenly torn between irritation, pride and tears — these moments seemed to continue to sneak up on her. Her daughter was growing up and Trinity’s dreams seemed to keep slipping away — she would love to have her daughter to remain a baby. At that moment, half of Miranda’s face was stained in sauce as she bared her teeth in fierce enjoyment and chomped on the meatballs.
“No, Mommy, no," Miranda exclaimed, as her mother tried to wipe her face for the third time.
“You face is messy!” Trinity countered, but Miranda just pouted, as if it was normal to look like one fell into a tub of spicy tomato juice while eating.
“You're taking a bath before bed," she said, earning herself another pout.
Miranda knew her nightly routine already, but felt the need to push back against it.
Finally done eating, she wiped her daughter’s face before tackling the pots and plates in the sink. She put the last of the spaghetti onto a plate for Janaye and covered it before she led Miranda to the bathroom.
It was a quick wash, no time to soak and make bubbles like they used to.One day, though,she promised without words as she toweled the little girl briskly.
The regular argument over nightwear ensued with Miranda insisting on her princess gown. The gown was faded, ratty, and threadbare at the edges, and truth be told, getting too small for her, but she could not afford to replace it with a new one yet. Miranda crawled into bed with a huge yawn and fell asleep immediately, not asking for a bedtime story like she usually did.
A sadness crept into Trinity as she watched the little brown girl curled up in bed with ringlets all over the pillow.
First setting the table, and now going to bed without asking for a story made Trinity feel like time was going too fast as she watched her baby grow older.
She tucked the little girl into her corner with a kiss, then gathered all the clothes from the day, and to the laundry.
Two loads later, she felt the presence of Janaye in the house. Janaye was a character — the first two things that came to mind when anyone saw her was bougie and beautiful, since she was always covered in designer wear. After spending a few minutes with her you would finally see her crazy side. She was loud, overconfident and expressed her opinions at the loudest volume. One would be surprised that for a woman so noisy and active that her appearance would fit her personality, but she barely weighed a thing.
The sound of cupboards being opened in the kitchen and the scent of perfume that filled the air was enough of an indication Janaye was home, and Trinity hoped she was alone.
Trinity padded to the kitchen and watched the woman with the waist length hair dig into the already cool plate of spaghetti and meatballs with gusto.
