Granted, I didn’t do many sandwiches when I could have a burger instead, but I’d had enough to know…she was really good at making food.
I’d had her breakfast burrito this morning, too, and it was by far the best thing I’d ever put in my mouth when it came to breakfast food.
“Well, I’ll take the compliment, but you’ve obviously not had enough sandwiches in your life if you think this is the best.” She sighed. “I’m sorry I was mean to you today.”
“Everyone has those days.” I shrugged. “And you weren’t mean.”
“I was mean, Meo.”
I smiled at the nickname.
The only people who called me “Meo” was my sister and the owner of Hopps.
Had I seriously not ever given her my name?
“I like that you call me Meo,” I said. “But it made me realize I’ve made a crucial mistake.”
“Oh?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I confirmed. “My name is Romeo. I’m sorry for not introducing myself.”
She made a disbelieving sound. “Your actual name is Romeo?”
“Yep,” I confirmed.
“Like, Romeo and Juliet?”
“Like that.”
“Huh,” she said. “Do you like your name?”
“I don’t dislike it,” I admitted. “It’s just my name. I just realized I’d never given it to you. And I’m sorry. My sister would kick my ass if she’d known that my manners were that atrocious.”
“Your sister, huh? Not your parents?”
“My parents taught me how to dislike them. That’s about it,” I said. “Now my sister? I had to learn manners so I could teach her manners. She loved tea parties when she was younger, and we had to do it ‘exactly like real people that drink tea’ do it. What she was actually wanting was to drink tea like nobles in the eighteen hundreds used to do. The fancy clothes, the accents, and the mannerisms. It’s just something that stuck.”
Because I could tell you now, with the life that I grew up with, manners were the last thing you wanted to have.
Mom and Dad had spent their lives barely making ends meet. Eventually we’d been moved to one of the worst suburbs in Dallas. The one where you had to watch yourself and your valuables, because both were equally coveted.
Mom and Dad worked and never came home half the time, so it was up to me to take care of my sisters.
And when I saw my baby sister getting a little too much attention from the worst kind of people, I made it my life mission to clean up our street. That had then extended to my neighborhood. Then the few blocks outside of the neighborhood.
“My mom was the best thing that ever happened to this world,” Mable said quietly, “When she got cancer, and my dad started to cheat with the hospice nurse, I wanted to burn the world down.”
I blinked, then turned to look at her, the last bite of sandwich between my fingers halfway raised to my lips. “There’s a special place in hell for people like that.”
“I hope you’re right,” she replied.
“What kind of sick bitch does that?” I asked. “Let alone your asshole of a father. But this woman that’s supposed to be caring about human beings? Do you think your mom knew?”
She cleared her throat. “I think she did. I mean, even I at such a young age could see the closeness there. The lingering touches. How she came way more than she should have. None of the other hospice nurses that came stayed as long as she did.”
“What a waste of space,” I grumbled as I shoved the last bite of sandwich into my mouth before mumbling, “This is the woman that I saw you with at the country club?”
“One and the same,” she confirmed. “That’s why I was so mad today. Well, at least kind of related. My dad isn’t a good person. I think I finally read the writing on the wall today and realized that he’s never again going to be the person he once was.”
