The Peach Pits

Chapter 6

 Balancing a plate and cup, Mae climbed out of the bedroom window. The sun was barely over the horizon, and the sky was a mix of pink, navy, and hot orange. Trina sat on the lower level of the roof, her knees hugged to her chest. She stared emptily out at the yard, sniggling occasionally. 

"Morning," Mae said slowly, setting a small plate of pancakes and bacon next to Trina. She didn't acknowledge it. Mae unwrapped the side of the blanket from Trina's body and covered herself in it, squeezing next to her cousin. Later it would be stifling hot outside but for now, they could enjoy the cool morning air.

Mae looked at the backyard below. There was so much space and green grass. She remembered when she and Trina were children and they'd chase each other around much to their grandmother's chagrin. Mae had always loved when Trina came to visit. She always brought fun new toys to play with, something Mae had never had much of.

The peach trees used to be Mae's favorite part of the yard. She used to climb the trees with her grandmother and help pick peaches to make pies and butters, or freeze and eat on really hot days. She told herself she'd grow up one day and put as much time and dedication into taking care of those trees- or at least something- as her grandmother did. Now, Mae couldn't even be bothered to touch a branch. She thought of this silly saying her grandmother used to always say when she did something sneaky: You can either be a peach, or you can be the pit. Mae had always laughed it off as some stupid metaphor.

Mae was surprised when Trina picked up a piece of bacon. She hadn't said a word since the night before. She'd only cried and slept with her blankets all the way over her head. Even though Mae couldn't blame her, she hated that there was nothing she could do and hated seeing her so sad.

"I called off today," Mae said finally. "I don't want you to be home all by yourself." Mae couldn't remember the last time she'd taken off work. But this was a family emergency if there ever was one. And she wasn't just saying that to skirt out of work like a lot of the other waitresses. If Mae were being honest, she hated to miss the money, even if Trina was important to her. Hopefully all the awful tippers decided to come in today. Another part of her, that stupid, girlish part of her, was upset she wouldn't see Jesse, meaning there would be no resuming what they started yesterday, at least for the time being.

Trina turned to look at Mae. Her eyebrows wrinkled. "You didn't have to do that, Mae." She looked like a sad little puppy. Normally, Trina's brown eyes were wide with love and excitement. Mae had always found her to be adorable. She was short, almost pocket-sized, and she always jumped around like a tiny hummingbird. Seeing her now, so crushed and deflated, made Mae's chest hurt. No one, especially a soul as sweet as Trina's deserved to be so hurt. 

"I'm not leaving you here alone," Mae assured her cousin, cuddling up to her tighter in the blanket. They watched the sun rise. Mae wished that they could enjoy their day off together, watching old DVDs or maybe looking at the stores in town, but Trina wouldn't want to do any of that, even to clear her mind.

"But... the money," Trina said uneasily. She chewed slowly.

Mae did her best to make her shrug look carefree. "I'm sure I'll figure something out. Don't worry about the money. It's not what matters right now. You matter more right now." Hopefully, the cash and debit cards Jesse had stolen for her covered Aunt Lynn's ambulance ride. As far as her hospital stay, Mae would have to work something else out for that. It made her head hurt just to think about. 

"I'm sorry," Trina apologized quietly.

Mae shook her head vehemently. "Don't say sorry. This isn't your fault."