Many Chance Summer

Silent Surrenders

I close my eyes for a moment and imagine Jamaal's fingers still caressing me and feeling the features of my face. I grow hot so I get out of bed. I check the time on the clock on the walls across from the bed then go downstairs. I take out my phone to text Jamaal when I see a folded piece of paper. Quickly, I open it up and read Jamaal's neat handwriting.

Getting some groceries. Be back in a few love u. Don't eat my pasta I mean it.

     I smile at Jamaal's sense of humour that I absolutely love. I put the piece of paper in the trash since Jamaal doesn't really recycle, and make myself breakfast. Jamaal's fridge is stocked, actually, and I remember him saying he was getting groceries yesterday or two days ago. I know he doesn't go through food like this.

     I fry some plain eggs with only black pepper and some salt, and make instant coffee for myself. It's medium, not too better, not too sweet. Jamaal doesn't really drink coffee much, he's a hot chocolate kid of guy. But he bought instant coffee for me. We have a coffee maker at home but I've always been too lazy to use it. Unless my mom or dad or Petra or someone else brews me coffee, I'll use instant. It takes just as good in my opinion. Call me an alien but I also use milk instead of water. And I heat up my milk for cereal. Yeah.

     Three hours later, Jamaal comes in through the door. I am half asleep but I hear the door open and I wake up, quickly wiping the drool that is sticking my cheek to a book. When I look down at the book, my spit has left a huge, wet spot on a page.

     "Oh..." I slam the book shut and set it down beside me and stand up.

     Jamaal is walking in, a bag of groceries in hand. He sets his keys on the hook and continues walking toward the kitchen.

     "You-uh, you plannin' on cookin' somethin' for me?"  I try humor. He gives me a quick, right smile. Okay, that didn't work.

     I take a closer look at his bag and when I do, I notice a very distinct smell coming from Jamaal.

     "There's only-" I move to help him with it but he snatches it back.

     "Baby, I'm sorry. I realized we didn't have any more tomato paste in the house and I know how much you love...tomato paste." He walks past me, his eyes trained on the floor and I stay facing where he used to be.

     "Tomato paste?" I ask. "I like natural things. Like actual tomatoes." I turn around.

     Jamaal slams close a cabinet and I catch a glance of some cans. He smiles at me and goes to the sink.

     "You gotta stop doing my dishes-"

     "Is there already some-" I walk over to the cabinet he just closed. I yank it open and sure enough, there are already some cans of tomato paste. I stand back and put my hands on my hips. "Jamaal..."

     He turns around and looks into the cabinet.

     "Oh, would you look at that!" He chuckles. "Silly me, I thought we ran out of paste."

     Silly me? Really?

     "Um...Jamaal." I have a thought. "What we're you really doing?" When he's silent, I quickly add. "I mean, I understand if-it you don't wanna tell me-"