Doing Dishes
Famke was in the back of the shop washing up some of Cesar’s dishes. She had taken two more blunt insults from Ambrosia who, for whatever her reasons, appeared to have taken a dislike to her from the minute she’d laid eyes on her. When Kara had snickered at a comment the other woman had made, Keshaun appeared ready to pop and Famke was ready to quit and walk out the door.
As if sensing he was going to lose his employee, he’d asked her to go help Cesar out back and she had gladly tossed the rag she’d been wiping down the tables with into the sink and headed out back. Now she was furiously scrubbing a pan and Cesar was giving her side eye.
“Would you stop?” she growled at him.
“I’m still trying to figure out why you held your tongue. You don’t usually,” he said with a shrug.
“Because I like this job and she is here for a visit but not forever. I can handle it.”
“You like working with me?” Cesar boldly kissed the air in her direction.
“Yes. I do like it here. It’s nice not to have constant sexual innuendos tossed around.”
“When your brother popped in yesterday, he told me Jack has been calling you. Asked you out? His description of your old boss had me in stitches.”
She groaned loudly, “imagine. Said now I wasn’t his employee he was free to woo me. I puked in my mouth.”
“Bram looked good when he popped in.”
“He’s doing good. He’ll be glad when he’s graduated. The kids at the school are not the most pleasant. They like to toss around insults because he has had some challenges because of his brain surgery. Despite overcoming a lot of them, all they remember is him drooling in class in grade eight and they won’t let it go.” She used the handheld spout to rinse off the baking sheet she was scrubbing. She remembered Ambrosia’s use of the r word and felt the fury. “Assholes.”
She looked over her shoulder as the swinging door shoved open and little feet scampered her way. “Hey, look who it is?”
“Uncle Royal is fighting with Ambrosia. She’s being a poopy head.”
“Oh no, not a poopy head.”
She made wide eyes and nodded, “she said I was going to get fat if I ate a donut and my sandwich.”
“Definitely a poopy head,” Famke muttered under her breath. “Have you ever washed dishes?”
“My grandma lets me help her sometimes.”
“How do you feel about being my rinser?” She grabbed a chair and hauled it to the deep sink. “I’ll put my soapy dishes in there and you rinse them?”
“Yes please!”
Cesar came behind and told her to open her mouth and popped half a cookie into her mouth and then into Famke’s. “My treats don’t make you fat. They make you fabulous.”
The girls giggled at his actions. He walked back to his station and pushed a button on his phone and music started to pump out overhead. Soon the three of them were dancing and singing while Cesar prepared his breads for the next day, and they cleaned up his messes.
He had found a playlist of kid’s versions of pop songs and despite being soaked to the skin, she and Precious were laughing and having a fun time.
“What is going on in here?”
The trio paused and looked over at the swinging doors to see Keshaun and Royal watching them with wide grins.
“We’re doing dishes Uncle Royal. Famke said I could help.”
“It looks like you’re washing Famke. You’re drenched,” he pointed to her shirt.
She knew it wasn’t see-through because it was black and thick cotton and so she shrugged. “It’ll dry.”
Keshaun shook his head. “You know you were off ten minutes ago?”
“Was I?” she grinned. “Looks like I won’t need another shower before my shift at the diner.”
“What’s a diner?” Precious asked.
“It’s a restaurant. It serves hamburgers and French fries and milkshakes as big as your head.” She held her hands apart next to her head. “I work there a couple of nights a week.”
“You have two jobs.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Why?”
“Because I like to work, and I like money even more.” She tapped her nose and put bubbles on it.
“What do you buy with your money?”
“Oh, let’s see.” She tapped her chin as if thinking hard. “My last pay cheque I bought some black nail polish.”
“Black?”
“Mm hm. Black. My best friend came to town, and she wanted to have dinner, so I got dressed up in my favorite black dress and I wore matching nail polish.” She helped her jump off the chair, “now, we should get you cleaned up a bit and I need to change my shirt and get warm before I head out into the cold. It would be a long bus ride if I didn’t bring my change of clothes.”
“You have to take a bus?”
“Yes. Two busses to get to where I need to go but,” she grinned. “I like the bus. I get to make new friends on the bus and see all kinds of different people.”
“Do you need a lift?” Royal asked interrupting their conversation.
“Nope. My shift only starts at six and if I get there too early, I end up eating all my salary. Cesar might make the best desserts in the world, but Mrs. McGovern makes the best meatloaf in the world and her mashed potatoes are to die for.”
“I love mashed potatoes. My grandma makes the best mashed potatoes. My daddy teases my mom because she can’t make mashed potatoes as good as grandma.” Suddenly the little girl realised what she said, and her bottom lip trembled. Despite Royal walking to her, she launched at Famke and started sobbing.
“Oh, sweet pea,” she whispered and sat on the chair and hugged her, resting her cheek on the top of her hair and rocking her gently. “It’s okay to be sad.”
“I can take her,” Royal offered but Precious had a grip on Famke’s neck.
She gave him a sad smile, “kindred spirits, I suppose.”
His expression had cooled considerably, and she was surprised by the anger in his eyes. She thought perhaps she had overstepped in consoling the child and she gently extricated the little fingers from around her neck and let him take her. Once again, she had an odd feeling this man disliked her or was angry at her for something, but she couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
She stood from the chair and made her way to the washroom, stopping to grab her backpack off the coat hook near the back door. She noted Keshaun eying her curiously and she found herself wondering what it was all about but instead took herself into the staff bathroom and began undressing. She was going to put her shirt into the bag and then thought better of it. She turned on the hand dryer and attempted to dry the shirt as best as she could.
She fixed her ponytail and her make-up and fought the memories which kept pushing through from the minute the small child had entered the shop. Prince had sported freckles on his nose and cheeks. Mindy had once told she had counted them and there were fifty-eight of them. Did their daughter have freckles too?
She slammed her palm against the counter and cursed herself. She blamed Royal of course. The very first day she had laid eyes on him she had immediately been reminded of Prince and Mindy. The had similar builds, well over six feet tall, the same thin chin strap style beard and cropped short hair. The deep brown hooded eyes rimmed with thick lashes and the dark melanin of their skin.
With the memories of Prince had come the memories of feeling the baby kicking in her womb. The way Mindy and Prince would lay on either side of her and rub her belly and talk to the baby growing there. How they would promise to love her and take care of her forever was engrained in her brain. The deep love Mindy had for her husband and had agreed to do whatever it took to give him the family he craved, even if it meant using another woman’s eggs, was on her mind.
More though, was the deep sense of loss she’d felt waking up in the hospital and knowing she was alone. The grief and sorrow at how they had simply walked out and never once looked back. No updates on how the baby was, what they’d named her or if they even thought about Famke ever again once they’d left. It was as if she had never existed to them.
She had searched for them in the faces of strangers in the street. Every tall Black man immediately drawing her gaze and any biracial couple causing her to rubberneck. Every blonde woman pushing a baby in a stroller had made her look with longing. For months she had avoided parks, playgrounds, and schools, walking the long way around to her jobs.
For the last month, she had experienced countless dreams of Prince and Mindy and their child but almost every one of those dreams had oddly morphed into Royal and her and a child and it was disconcerting and uncomfortable. She had only met the man once, for a short afternoon. While his brief introduction to her life had altered it somehow in that she had found this new job, it certainly wasn’t a life shattering change. Yet, she’d been focused on him as if chasing a ghost. A ghost who really didn’t like her much.
Standing there in her bra, staring at her reflection in the staff mirror she considered she needed to get her shit together and stop daydreaming over what never was. She didn’t have a child. Prince and Mindy did. She didn’t have a relationship. They had. She didn’t make lifelong friends. She had fulfilled a verbal contract. None of it was real, despite how much she had wanted it to be.
She dropped her black shirt from Black Magic into the backpack and pulled out the cream-colored uniform top she would wear to the diner. She was about to pull it on when the door she forgot to lock swung open.