“You really should consider a little cream to—” Ms. Lina began.
Lauren shook her head. “Can’t do dairy. Or meat.”
“Oh, good lord Audrey, she’s a vegan.”
“My fool mind plum forgot.” Ms. Audrey apologized.
The first trickle of hot dark liquid made Lauren still, then smile. The coffee was strong, like Turkish-street-vendor-boiling-a-pot-on-the-sidewalk strong.
Lauren closed her eyes, body relaxing as the coffee slid down her throat, strong, smooth, delicious.
“I don’t think I’m ever leaving.” She sighed when she opened her eyes. “Bacon also smells heavenly by the way.”
“That’s bona fide bacon from Ocef Farms, Ms. Green. The best treated hogs in the country. No meat substitute can compare,” Ms. Lina stated.
As if she was saying something with her pro-pork stand, Lauren thought, rolling her eyes as she lowered her head to take another swallow of coffee.
Reminding herself that she didn’t have to use her mental energy to quibble over her harm reductive stance related to certain meats, because she wasn’t morally against consuming meat, she couldn’t resist the pull to help them understand why she minimized, not eliminated her consumption.
“I will always love the smell of bacon, but I’ll probably never eat it again. I avoid eating particular meats but if push comes to shove, I will devour a steak or a pork chop. In moderation. After I had to have a partial hysterectomy due to tumors, I was told to eat more of what will heal and strengthen my body than poison it. Bacon is poison that feeds cancerous cells, proliferates them as does any processed meat. I’ll always love the smell of bacon Ms. Lina, but I won’t eat it.”
Ms. Lina nodded and faced the stove.
“Well, your choice is more than understandable,” she said as she continued stirring the grits. She stopped and turned back to Lauren. “I’m sorry you went through what you went through, mija.”
Ms. Audrey nodded, sadly rubbing Lauren’s back.
Lauren’s throat tightened and her eyes burned as tears filled them.
These women, these strangers, were apologizing to her about something that happened over a decade ago. Something that outside of the risk of having surgery meant little to nothing to her as she knew since her early college years that she didn’t want children. Derrick had vehemently echoed her sentiments. But now he was about to have a child with a woman who’d been raised in the same home as her, who she’d protected, who she’d known in her heart as sister. And nobody, not one person who purported to love, trust, or respect her had offered any kind of care, any kind of concern or sorrow for her pain.
“Look what you’ve gone and done, Carolina Bertrand!” Ms. Audrey hissed, passing Lauren a napkin.
The concern Ms. Audrey showed made the tears come harder and faster, and Lauren curled over into herself, hands covering her face, trying to hide the agony she’d fought against every mile of being on the road.
She focused on taking deep breaths and the tears stopped flowing when she denied them the emotional energy.
Using the napkin Ms. Audrey handed her, she wiped her face and sat upright again.
“Sorry for causing you any distress,” Lauren mumbled as she reached for her coffee with both hands. She emptied the cup and pushed it toward Ms. Lina for more.
“This wasn’t about the surgery. That was a blessing, and I walked away with my life, so win-win.” She reached out for the mug the moment Ms. Lina filled it. The coffee felt like the closest thing to emotional armor she could cling to in the moment.
“Those tears were about another kind of loss. The loss of having your heart ripped out, stomped on, and stabbed into pulpy nonexistence.”
Ms. Audrey’s lips pursed, Ms. Lina fisted the neck of her shirt in mortification.
“Sorry, but that’s what it felt like. What was worse, no one even acknowledged that my heart had even been torn out. That I was supposed to be the bigger person, forgive and accept.”
“Oh damn that!” Ms. Audrey snapped, startling Lauren out of her verbal ruminations.
“Somebody abuses your love and trust, you got the right to never forgive or never accept it.”
“Right!” Lauren agreed through a fresh trickling of tears and laughter.
“A dios mio.” Ms. Lina frowned looking around her kitchen. “Almost everything I have is meat or dairy. I haven’t put butter in the grits yet!”
Lauren waved off Ms. Lina’s concerns and stood.
