Lady Bass

Chapter 4

Reyes’ POV

Walking was the one way I could get my mind to settle.

It was my favorite past time, one that had my mother worried when I was younger. Taking me out to the mall or grocery shopping was always a risk for her, because I would often lose track of my parents and find myself deserted at the other end of the complex. And since then, my mom would always bring along a sash – one end tied to her belt and another to my wrist. Sure, it did get us a lot of quizzical looks but it did keep me away from wandering. Plus, it gave my dad something to laugh about.

And today was no different, my mind was a wayward but my feel had familiarized themselves with the ways of my mind and knew exactly where I wanted to go. Even the asphalt beneath my feet were familiar, I could trace out the cracks in my mind.

My ears picked up the squeaks of play sets and children laughing, and I couldn’t help smiling. I pulled down my hoodie, and stood away watching the children run around. The street was quiet except for a few cars that passed by but it would be so for too long, school was to let out in another half an hour but I was content to stay far and watch innocence run amok.

As usual, I made my way to the little stall that stood opposite to IvyWood Kindergarten School; with exteriors so brightly painted I was sure it could drive blind drivers hence why vehicles moved past me at a slow place. I smiled at the barista, “Hey, Reyes.” He smiled; I had been here often enough to that Damian and I were now acquaintances.

“How’s the wife, Damian?” I asked as he turned around to fill a cup with steaming hot milk.

“She’s doing well, man. Baby’s got to be due in a few weeks now.” Even with his back turned to me, I knew he was grinning. Sure he was, the bastard was so proud of his wife, every time I met him I’d always get an update on the missus. It was sickening yet admirable.

Damian worked part time as a musician too, his underground work earning better pay than this tiny stall and even though I had asked him why he stayed here instead of just working one job, he said that being out here on the lonely street provided him with enough solitude to write the words for his song. Damian only opened the stall during the mornings when the parents dropped off their children and stopped a while to talk to each other and in the afternoons when they’d be waiting in the parking lot for their kids.

Damian was still smiling as he put some coffee and sugar in the milk, and stirred it. “Wipe that stupid grin off of your face, man. People around here are going to think you’re some kind of pedo.” I said in good humour, earning a loud guffaw from Damian.

“Cheeky bitch.” Was all he said as he handed me my cup, the heat from its contents stinging my hand at first and then slowly disappearing to become a more satisfactory sensation. I took a sip and felt the heat fill my cold body. “Come home, sometime man, Diane’s been asking about you.” He leaned his arms on the counter and set his grey eyes on me.

“Your wife too can’t resist me, huh?” I replied back cheekily. Damian glared at me as I took another sip, “Chill, man. Diane’s loves your stupid little ass too much.” I shook my head, like the idea of a woman loving him was incredulous. But in spite of my words, it wasn’t.

“And I always wonder why.” Damian’s glare was gone; he pushed back his dark hair and sighed in contentment. “Do come home for lunch or dinner someday.” He said and I nodded my head at him. The bitterness of the coffee and its warmth made me feel better, my ears no longer freezing.

Damian’s wife, Teresa was the kind of woman who loved to have guests over. I remember the first time I had been invited over, Teresa was so excited that she had finally gotten to meet “her husband’s coffee regular and friend, Reyes”, her words not mine. And lunch was more like a banquet, she had the table ladened with all kinds of that I had never tasted before but reminded me so much of home. And just like my people, Teresa wouldn’t let me get up from the table until I had had 10 servings of her dishes, which wasn’t really necessary since she could cook like a damn goddess, if there was a Goddess of Cuisine, Teresa would definitely be it.