Misfortunate Molly: Would Heartbreak, Break You?

Chapter 9 Chillin

It is 6:53 pm. I am sitting on the couch about to put the TV on. Dre is standing near the window inspecting the outside. Sherrie is in the kitchen making what I am sure is to be dinner. It smells amazing. I can smell the fresh dough in the bread maker. The seasoning on the steaks smells like pepper and lemon with some herbs. I can hear the meat sizzling. I think she is making fresh green beans also. I saw her washing them when I came from my dad's office. The house smells like garlic too. I heard her cutting something. Sounded like potatoes. I hope she makes the little square ones that she crisps in the pan with butter and oil.

I pull the blanket from the back of the couch and cover myself. It smells like Gain detergent, the purple one, and dryer sheets. I reach for the remote, pick it up from the coffee table, and turn the TV on. The volume is loud and startles me and Dre as we jump a little. He looks back at me, "My bad. Didn't know it was going to be that loud," I say looking at him as the volume gets lower. I think I heard a little squeal from the kitchen. I hold back my laughter from seeing a man his size startle.

He turns his head back around and continues his investigation of the people still parked outside. I am so relieved to know that they cannot see into the huge windows, due to the mirrored reflection of the outside. It is getting a little dimmer out as the sun begins to set. I hope the glare of the setting sun blinds them all. I turn on the movie app and start looking for a movie.

"Dinner is ready," Sherrie calls from the dining room. I look up at Dre and he does not budge. I roll the blanket off of me and head for the dining room.

"You coming?" I ask Dre. He turns around and looks at me questionably.

"I don't usually-" I cut him off.

"You are here. WE are eating!" I am sort of demanding. "I can guarantee Sherrie has made you a plate, too. Now come on. They aren't going anywhere." I wave him over. He comes. He is resistant but still follows me.

My dad instilled in me that it is rude to eat in front of people without offering. No matter how small your portion is. My dad does not come from money. His family was poor growing up. He has told me stories about when he and his family would go a day or a few with very little to eat, especially on weekends when there was no school, or during the summer. My heart hurts whenever I think about my dad being a hungry little kid. He made it though, and now no one in the family wants for a thing. 'We take care of the ones we love. And even the ones we don't. Especially if they are in need,' is something my dad would always say when I was growing up. I would recite it to him whenever he would begin to say it.

"You're the boss." Dre shrugs and makes his way to the dining area.

I was right. She made the little browned potatoes that I freaking love! On the dining table, Sherrie has set up the food like a self-serve buffet. The steaks are on a plate, resting in the juices. The green beans are piled on a serving platter next to the potatoes. The bread is on a cutting board with a knife lying next to it. There is a stick of room temperature butter on a rectangle plate sitting beside the bread. There is a huge bowl with mixed lettuce and different shades of little round tomatoes, sliced red onions, croutons, those little pepperoncini peppers, and cucumbers sitting on top of the mixed greens. A bottle of Ranch dressing, Italian dressing and French dressing along with steak sauce, ketchup, and hot sauce all huddled together. There are four plates, four forks, four knives, four glasses, and a stack of napkins. There is a carafe of orange juice, a pitcher of water, and half a gallon of milk with four glasses.

I can hear my stomach growling. Sherrie has a huge smile on her face while staring at Dre. I glance to see why and his eyes are huge while rubbing his hands against each other in a continuous motion. A giggle slips out and he looks to me. We are all smiling big now.