A Dead Letter

Chapter 3: Toasted Bread and Jam, Jam and Burned Bread

CHAPTER THREE:
Toasted Bread and Jam, Jam and Burned Bread

Weaver Residence
Harriden City

Ever since the Weavers moved to Harriden City, mornings at their new humble home had always been this way. Unwashed dishes from last night's dinner filled the sink. A small kid sitting at the dining table making her own jam and toasted bread for their breakfast. A coughing mother holding a hose to water the plants. In this little house, with two small bedrooms, one common bathroom, a small kitchen, and a dining area the newspaper girl started to build their new life.

'Good morning, Mom!' Merry greeted her mother the moment she arrived at their house.

She tied her bike on the white picket fence before entering the gate.

'Good morning, sweety! How's your newspaper delivery service?' Mom asked.

'It was great, Mom.' She lied, then smiled.

It was great. Thanks to that mad, rude, and arrogant man shouting at me in that white mansion. Take note that it was a sarcastic notion.

After the newspaper deliveries, she will take a bath and head straight to Barista's Café. It was a small cozy coffee shop at the heart of the Harriden City, where she waits tables.

'Good morning, Sir. May I take your order?' Merry asked as she entertains one customer.

'One Americano. Two orders of pancakes in maple syrup.'

'Okay. Nothing else?'

'Waiter, more coffee here.' Another customer called.

'Coming!' Merry replied.

Most of Merry's workers, employers, and customers became her friends. Well, maybe. She wouldn't know if others were just pretending. Anyway, what matters most for her is that there were people who also considered she existed.

'Hey, Merry. Wanna hang out with me tonight?' Colt said, one of her co-workers.

'Sorry, Colt. Can't. I have another part-time job to attend.' as she gets her things from her locker.

'Come on, Merriana Faye Weaver. Ever since you moved here in the city you haven't been to a bar or somewhere. All you do is work. Aren't you sick of it?'

'I am sick of working too, you know. It's hard and tiring. But my family needs me. I am here to make a living, not to have fun. If I lose one job out of the ten part-time jobs I have, I can't pay this month's bills.'

'Okay. Fine. I lost today, Ms. Breadwinner.' He said, raising both of his hands in the air.

'Are you still making those bets with who can convince me to go bar hopping?'

'Yeah. And I won't give up. One of these days, you will go out with me and drink at the bar.'

'You wish. Prepare to lose, then.'

'Whatever you say, country girl.' Colt headed towards the door. 'Be safe on the roads, Merry. The streets of Harriden City were nothing like those on Camley, where anyone greets each other "Hi, good morning" without snatching your bag or pointing a gun in your pretty face. Drive safely or should I say pedal safely?' Colt said, pointing his forefinger at Merry before leaving the back door of the shop, where she could see his black motorcycle.

Merry rolled her eyes. 'I'm living here for a week now. Don't worry about me! I've adjusted.' Merry shouted enough for him to hear.

Colt shrugged his shoulders. 'Just saying. Bye. See you tomorrow.'