billie o'connell
- same day as last chapter -
i took in the scenery ahead of me as i sat next to mama joan, mailyn's grandmother.
" billie is that you, baby?" she asked, her southern accent evident.
" yes mama" i responded, placing my hand on top of hers.
mama joan went blind not too long ago due to her diabetes so she became tense when she heard certain noises and i would have to ensure her that it was me.
" how you feelin dis morning, hm?" i asked her softly as her hand grasped at mine.
" oh same ole, same ole" she responded, a small grin on her lips.
" atleast i ain't wake up to the sun blindin me" she darkly joked with a snicker.
a soft chuckle left my lips as i shook my head , " you hungry?" i asked.
" for some collard greens and turkey necks... but i'm guessin i ain't that lucky?" she rhetorically asked, raising her eyebrow.
a breath left my lips as i smiled, " you guessed right" i laughed.
" well then eggs and toast will due" she sighed with a shrug.
" okay, you want me to help you inside or you gone stay out here?" i questioned, standing up.
" imma have breakfast outside today" she said and i nodded my head, patting her shoulder gently.
i opened the screen door and walked inside the house, going into the bathroom to wash my hands.
i washed them thoroughly than dried them. as i dried my hands with a papertowel i stared in the mirror, letting out a sigh.
so much has happened in the time spam of six months but they been the best six months of my life.
i've been in peace, taking the time to collect myself all in one, to be able to focus on my intentions in life.
i've been surrounding myself with positivity and destroying the toxic mentality i've been carrying around me ever since the accident.
but there was still a empty gap that needed to be filled for me to be content with my life; i wasn't sure what it was, yet.
i looked away from the mirror and walked out of the bathroom and into the kitchen, taking out the homemade wheat bread i made and vegan eggs from the fridge.
i turned on soft jazz music for mama joan to hear, knowing it was her favorite type of genre.
jazz or neo soul, no in between.
i placed a board cutter on the counter and placed the bread ontop, cutting two slices then putting them in the toaster.
i go to the stove and spray oil on the pan before turning on the fire for it to heat up.
i pour some of the vegan eggs onto the pan then take out some seasonings.
i didn't over season her eggs not wanting her blood pressure to get high and flare up her arthritis.
after a while, her breakfast was ready and i was applying butter onto her toast.
one thing bout me, i could cook my ass off. cooking or baking was therapeutic to me.
i grabbed a fork and some napkins before making my way back outside.
" ya breakfast ready mama" i softly announced, not wanting to startle her.
