Adelia

[1]

I didn't know if she really couldn't hear it, or if she was just pretending. For my sake. 

My mother laid on the couch, her eyes closed tightly, making no movements or sounds, except for the very low hum of her breathing and an old Elvis record playing softly in the background, coming from Mia's room of course. It wasn't surprising she was up this time of night. But she too, made no sound. Just the soothing sound of the music and the silence mixed together and then... the tapping. 

The inevitable timid tapping that was ridiculous to be heard this late, but I was expecting it. Coming from the back patio, along with the clicking of feet, and the swaying of legs and the girl the sounds belong too, waiting anxiously for me to come out with something edible in my hands. Like a rabid dog, she waits. Every night for a bite to eat. And she is no where close to ashamed of that. 'I'm hungry', she'll tell me, 'so I ask for something to eat.' She says it all while stuffing things into her mouth and I laugh most times. And then we talk, and then she goes far off into the woods and I never follow her... and some days, I wish I would.

I drag my tired, aching legs along the carpet and my mind is foggy, but I've memorized the way... to the refrigerator. I pull the handle and the frosty air comes pooling out. I grab whatever my hands meet. She wouldn't care. 

I don't really know what's brought her here, but I think she's homeless. As in, having no home, and if you don't have a home, than you probably don't have food either. She doesn't tell me much about that, or about her, or where she comes from. All I know is that she has come from somewhere, and I hope she's safe there, and maybe even happy. 

I open the door to the backyard almost robotically, like it's trained into my memory, fixuated into my bones. And then I see the next sight which oh so familiar, I see the bright eyes and the wide smile and then that contagious expression shifts onto my face as well.

"Finn, don't tell me you brought coffee, oh please don't!" She says in triumph as she eagerly takes the contents from my hands and then we go out to the round table in the garden so that we can discuss the movies in the theatre across town. Sometimes I wish I could ask her to go to one with me, but that's not how this works see. She's not here for me; she's here for my coffee and bagels.

So I sit there and sip my mug as she talks about actors and actresses and I smile and rub my eyes. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, you're sleepy, aren't you? You know I could go.." She picks at her nails and looks down. 

"No, that's okay, I like it." 

"You like what?" 

"The way you blabber on, it's - it's cute." I say and am shocked at what I had just said. And she is too and then she frowns. 

"No, it's really not, I should -" 

My arms flail so quickly my mug almost goes over the edge of the table, "No! I mean, you don't have to go, Adelia. Just stay and," I grin at the table and slide my thumb around the rim of the cup, "tell me about yourself." 

She frowns and furrows her eyesbrows, "Why do you call me Adelia?" 

"Because that's what I like to call you." 

"Why?"

"Because it makes you blush when I say it."