"You're back."
"Hmmm," she muttered in between inhaling food.
Trinity decided to go back to her washing.
"Wait, we need to talk."
Trinity wondered what was bothering Janaye now.
"Yes?" she hated how her voice suddenly became emotionless.
"My boyfriend is moving in," Janaye started without preamble. Trinity felt the cold wave start above her head when she heard those words. "Tomorrow."
It can only mean one thing.A cold wave travelled down the back of Trinity’s neck.
"We decided to move in together and save on rent, and my place is bigger. I mean there is no point in both of us living apart when we love each other right?" This bit was said with a giggle that sounded incongruous coming from a full-grown woman.
...the cold froze the air in her lungs, froze her eyeballs, set off a ringing in her ears and filling her throat with a lump the size of a fist…
"We’ve been discussing this for a while and we have decided that we want to be together, like totally together, you understand right?" The question was not a question, more like a statement of challenge.
Trinity’s stomach knotted and she struggled to keep her head from staring down at her legs. They felt like stilts, barely supporting her and barely there.
"So, you'll have to move out by this weekend, okay? He's moving in tomorrow so I’m giving you one week." Janaye jammed a forkful of spaghetti into her mouth.
"But, Janaye, I have nowhere else to go. Think about my baby." She wasn't worried for herself... hell, who was she kidding? She was worried for herself, but the idea of going to a shelter with her daughter in tow, or worst the streets, crippled her and sent a shiver through her spine that travelled through her body and landed a blow to the head.
“She's not my kid. Argh! Children. Don't understand why anyone would want them. None of my business though." The insults seemed never ending until she jammed another forkful of the food into her mouth.
Trinity felt like shrieking back in return at the cold, callous response of her cousin but the words were not forthcoming. She opened her mouth a few times and closed it without saying a word before she finally blurted out, "What do you want me to do now?"
It was a rhetorical question, but she hoped Janaye felt the need to answer.
"Ya'll should start packing. Y'all gotta be gone by Saturday. He will not appreciate finding you here tomorrow and neither will I, but I’ll give you till Saturday."
"You said I could stay until I got my own place, Janaye. You know it's hasn’t been easy for me,” Trinity said, her temper finally piqued.
"Things change, Trinity; you should know that better than anyone."
"I gave you rent for this month last week. What am I supposed to do now?" As soon as it had come, her anger left her.
"I don't know and frankly I don't care."
"Fine, can I have at least half of my rent back?"
"It’s gone, just like you should be by Saturday morning."
With the final words flung at her, punctuated by a stabbing fork, Trinity knew it was really over. In that moment the washing machine pinged, indicated that it was done with its cycle. The metallic sound echoed through the apartment, faintly mocking the sudden silence.
Trinity finished every chore she could think of, making sure she picked each little pin and making sure she didn’t forget a thing. She ran all her loads through the machine, knowing it would be a while before she got to do so again.
When she finished packing all of their belongings in garbage bags, she went to bed, laying herself softly beside her daughter.
The thoughts she had kept at bay had crept in, the pity flooding her so fast she had to hold a hand to her mouth before she woke her daughter up with the dry sobs. Her hand grazed over the ringlets scattered all over the pillow while her mind was a few years away.
It was stupid of her to believe, and to accept that life would always be simple and beautiful. It was easy in the moment when things were going fine to accept the idea of a future without twist and turns, but in those hidden corners, terrible circumstances lurked.
At nineteen, she had believed marrying her husband was the best thing that happened to her, and getting pregnant was just the icing on her already huge cake. She could not wait to break the news to him, and he had responded exactly how any wife could have wanted — he had promised to be the best father possible, to be there to protect, love and provide for her and their child. With tears in his eyes, he had caressed her still flat abdomen, swearing to never abandon them. He vowed to never break his promise.
