Chapter 1

 

Her eyes snapped open, and she peered over to her clock.  This time, she wasn't late for her first period class in 11th grade.  Actually, she wasn't late at all, but if she didn't get going soon, she wouldn't be out of the house in time for her interview.  Delilah managed to untangle one of her arms and attempted to scratch her nose, which just ended in her exhausted hand lying on top of her face.  She was about to drift off again when she heard the sound of her little girl crying for her, the final reason to get up.  She broke the other hand free and wedged the two under herself.  She then pushed her body upright. She sat at the edge of her bed, forcing herself awake as her feet felt around for her slippers.  She found it, and slipped her foot into the blue fuzzy pocket.  She stood up, steadied herself, and then slid into the other as she made her way to the adjacent room.  She pushed open the door that was already set ajar, and popped her head inside.  To no surprise, she found her three-year-old daughter sanding up in her crib, smiling.

"Hey doll, how did you sleep?" Delilah asked softly, as she tip-toed her way into the toddler's room.

"Good!" the little girl answered, bouncing up and down a little as her mother drew closer.

"What woke you Hun?" She asked, picking the girl up and setting her on her hip, the child placing her cheek on Delilah's chest.

"Mhmmm..." she answered, pulling her little arms in close to her, making it easier to place her thumb into her mouth.

"Oh I know, you’re hungry?  Is that it?" The little girl picked up her head and giggled a bit, her small top teeth positioned over her bottom lip, in a mischievous grin.  "Oh ho ho, is that all I am good for then, little Missy? ­Food?" Delilah said playfully, tipping the little girl away from her chest so she could see her face.  "Is that so Miss Nola Donelle Adams?  Well then I do believe that means you are using me little missy." With those words, Nola's expression changed; her just smiling mouth turned down, and her lip began to quiver a little.  Her eyebrows pressed together and came to a little peak in the middle of her forehead.  Seeing this, Delilah kissed her atop the head and then re-adjusted Nola on her hip.  "Well that's why I'm here now isn't it, babe?" Delilah turned towards the door and started to the kitchen.  On her way, she was bouncing Nola on her hip, and humming the song her mother used to sing to her every morning when she was little, causing giggles to erupt from her daughter.  Delilah pulled Nola's high chair from next to the fridge with her foot, and sat the little girl down into it.  Delilah brushed the stray locks of chocolate brown hair from in front of Nola's cat green eyes with her hand.  Her hair and eyes are just like Delilah’s; sometimes it was like looking at living baby pictures.  She kissed Nola's her forehead once more, and then walked over to the cabinets.

She stuck out her forefinger and ran it over the three cabinets, thinking if what to make and what cabinet contained the ingredients.  Her mouth twisted into an off centered pucker and she tilted her head to the side and she swung her hips back and forth, trying to decide.  She twirled around on the ball of her slippered foot and landed hunched over, with her arms sticking straight out, like a gymnast who failed to stick a landing.  Nola started to laugh at the sight.  Delilah looked over her shoulder at her.  Nola quickly slapped her hands over her mouth to stifle the laughter, but her contorted face was a dead give away.

"You think that's funny huh?" Delilah scooted over to Nola.  "I'll show you funny." She tickled Nola until she couldn't laugh any more.  Her decision was made and she walked back over to the cabinets.  "I think today is a cereal day, don't you?"

"Yay!  Cheerios!"

"Good choice."

Delilah leaned forward, lifting her right foot off the ground, and pulled the middle cabinet open.  She plucked out a travel-size box of Cheerios, and full size boxes of Captain Crunch, and Kix.  Delilah then reached towards the cabinet underneath the counter.  She took out one small bowl and one larger one.  She then placed them both upon the counter. She opened the box of cheerios and poured them into the smaller of the two bowls.  Then opened the other two boxes of sugary cereal and poured them simultaneously into the larger bowl.  She pulled out the drawer below the counter and took out two spoons.  She set them onto the counter next to the bowls then slid over to the refrigerator, the grip on the bottom her slippers scratching against the black-and-white tile floor.  Delilah popped open the refrigerator door, took out a carton of Milk, and poured it into the two awaiting bowls.  She then spun over to the garbage can, pressed on the foot petal and tossed out the newly empty carton.  She then grabbed the bowls, spoons, and a few napkins then made her way to the table.  She placed the smaller bowl onto Nola's white plastic high chair tray, and the other on the oak kitchen table.  Delilah pulled out one of the chairs, which creaked as she sat herself down.

She had bought the table from the Salvation Army the first week she moved into the small Boston apartment.  It was in a slight state of disrepair, but still really quite usable.  Alas, this one chair, her breakfast chair, had begun to break down from over use. Delilah has sat in that chair every morning since her starting her new life in Boston. Delilah is a creature of habit, and refuses to use another of the three available chairs.  Partially because doing so would break the routine that she and Nola had, but also, this chair holds a lot of memories.  There are just some things she is not willing to give up, and for memories, certainty not without a fight.

She placed the small spoon into Nola's little red bowl and her own larger spoon into her own.  She reached for a glass, but found it wasn't there.

"Oops, almost forgot something." She said, raising her index finger into the air while making her way back over to the refrigerator.  She pulled out a carton of Orange Juice, along with a glass and a cup with a lid, from the shelf.  She poured the juice and returned it.  She brought the cups back over and sat back down.

"Mommy, why do you put the cups in the fridge?" Nola asked with her mouth full of crunchy cheerios.  "Whenever I go over Natalie's house, her mommy doesn't have them in there."

"Well," Delilah started, swallowing the big gulp of juice she had just sipped into her mouth.  "You see, this way, the juice stays cold longer.  Now you don't need ice, and no one actually likes ice in their juice, no matter what they say.  It gets all thinned out and gross." The pair both scrunched up their faces and stuck their tongues out at the idea of watered down juice.  They continued to eat their breakfast as usual, talking about little things, unaware of what was going on outside.  All that mattered to them was that they were together, as nature intended: As mother and daughter.

Delilah began to look out of the large window in front of her, and fell into a daze.  She started to think about the people who lived in the apartment building adjacent to hers.  She looked at their balconies, what was on them, and at their windows, their curtains.  If the shades were not drawn, the peered at what lay inside.  She imagined their lives, what they looked like, their names, and their life story.  All sorts of things.  Again, this was her routine, and it will stay this way.  As she was observing one balcony, she noticed something new, there weren't any flowerpots on the railing, as there were yesterday.

"It looks like Mr. Jenkins has moved out, his flower collection is gone." Delilah said, craning her neck to get a better look at the empty balcony, perhaps to catch a glimpse of who had cleared away the flowers.  She scrunched down her eyebrows to eliminate the fuzziness she faced in her eyesight without her glasses.  Making up names for the people of the apartments was also a well cherished pastime of the two.  Nola had named this man after the phrase overused on Scooby Door by Velma.  Giving up on her poor eyesight, Delilah looked back down at her hardly empty bowl of cereal.  She scooped up some of the sugary brew and ladled it into her mouth.  She let her eyes wander around the small kitchen when her eyes fell upon the clock.  7:50. Her interview was in 25 minutes, the bus ride there alone took 15 minutes.  Surely she had missed her regular bus already, and she didn’t know the train schedule.  There was no way she was going to get there in time, but that wouldn't not her from trying.

Delilah flung her bowl into the sink, took Nola from her highchair and ran into the small den.  She tucked Nola in on the couch with her favorite Disney movie, gave her a kiss on the forehead and flew into the bathroom.  She pulled back the shower curtain and turned the hot water nozzle.  She tore off her pajamas, took her hair out of the pony tail, and jumped into the steaming hot shower.  She danced around, trying not to burn herself in the searing spray falling from the wall.  Delilah grabbed the shampoo and lathered her long brown hair.  She quickly rinsed out her hair and hopped out and into a towel.  She dried herself off then made her way across the hall into her bedroom. 

She closed the door and shed her towel.  She made her way over to her dresser and pulled out a pair of dark-brown pinstriped dress pants from the bottom drawer, and an emerald green tank top from the middle drawer.  She moved onto the top drawer and pulled out a set of underwear and slipped them on.

She pulled the tank top on second, and then stuck one leg into her pants.  As she tried to get the other leg in, her toe got caught on the back belt loop.  She tried to free her captured toe, but her efforts just resulted in falling over herself.  She hit the floor with a loud thump, but to her relief her toe was free and she slipped the other leg into the pants.  Delilah got back up, buttoned her pants, and then smoothed out her shirt. Grabbing the hairbrush from atop her dresser, she combed out her damp hair.  Tipping her head back, Delilah combed her hair into a tight bun behind her head.  She then sat down at her makeshift vanity table.  Delilah applied a bit of concealer under her eyes in a halfhearted attempt to cover the dark circles that had emerged.  She quickly lined her eye and applied mascara then she was done.  Delilah flew out of her room and back into the kitchen.  There she grabbed her brown suit jacket, purse and paperwork.

"Come here Nola!  Mommy's got to go now; I'm going to bring you over to Aunties house." Delilah said as she searched for anything else she might be missing.  Nola slowly began to saunter over to Delilah.  "Come on bunny, mommy really needs to go now." With this, Delilah let out a groan of frustration and pulled Nola along out of the apartment by her little hand.  They walked down the hall four doors, and then knocked.  A woman with her hair in pink curlers opened the door a crack, the chair across it restricting it's movement.

"Who's there?" the woman asked her voice defensive.  Her left eye was pressed against the gap, trying to see who had disrupted her.

"It's me Joanne." Delilah said.  The woman's eye shifted to where Nola and Delilah were standing, and her eyebrow rose.

"Oh dolls, it's you.  Come in loves," The door closed, the chain clicked as it slid from the catch.  The door reopened and the woman stood in the frame.  "I didn’t realize, I was expecting you much earlier.  Figured you didn't need me today." She moved aside so the two could enter.

"I know, we kind of ran lat this morning," Delilah said as she set Nola up with a book from her purse.

"Well I would say. I almost started making plans." Joanne said, a joking tone covering her words.  Ignoring the remark, Delilah continued to tend to her daughter.

"Now I have to run Joanne," She said without turning around, "I have an interview today."

"I could tell, look at you, little miss business woman.  You make me proud."

"It's just an interview, and it’s only for a receptionist spot.  It's no big deal." Delilah said, turning around to face Joanne.

"It's not just and interview, this could be the break you have been waiting for!  Who knows who you might meet, for business or otherwise..." Joanne said, nudging Delilah in the side with her elbow.  "Well you still make me just so proud of you." Joanne said, taking Delilah's face in her two hands and kissing her on the forehead.  "You’re going to do great."

"I hope so; I could seriously use some more cash.  Rent is starting to creep up on me." She turned back to Nola.

"It does for everyone doll, but like I said, if it ever gets to much, you can always move in with me." Joanne said, trying to console Delilah.

“Oh, no, Joanne, you know I’m far too proud for that, but as always, thank you.”

“Well then at least let me help you with the payments.”

“Jo…” Delilah said with a warning tone, and then turned to see her little girl. "I'll see you later Nola, be a good girl for Auntie Jojo.”

"Okay mommy, love you!”

"Love you too baby."

Joanne looked Delilah over, and stopped at her feet.  "Darling...I think you have forgotten something."

Delilah turned and looked at Joanne.  She followed her eyes down to her feet and saw what Joanne was talking about.

"You have got to be kidding me.  I forgot shoes?  How can someone forget shoes?  Seriously, I am a basket case.  They should take me away right here and now."

"Here doll, Borrow these." Joanne handed her a pair of brown cowboy boots.

"Thank you so much, I can already tell this day is going to be simply awesome." Delilah said as she slipped her feet into the boots, and pulled her pant legs over them.

"You best be goin' now." Joanne said, as she began to push the frantic Delilah towards the door.  Delilah grabbed her purse and paperwork on her way out of the door with Joanne.

"I'll be home hopefully around noon-ish, and then I have to go to work around 5:00."

"Alright dearie, I'm always here, now get going!" Joanne said, pretending to literally kick Delilah out.  The door closed behind her, and she looked at her watch.  She had 10 minutes to get to the other side of Boston.  As determined as she was, time was not going to stop her, and she ran down the hallway, down two lights of stairs and out the front door.  She ran to the nearest street corner.  Delilah looked around for a free Taxi, and found none.  She ran to the next corner -- nothing.  Delilah wasn't about to take that, so she stepped out into the road about a foot and raised her arm above her head.  People were honking left and right, but she didn't budge.  She was going to get a taxi.  Finally a taxi pulled over, and she jumped inside.

"Massachusetts General Hospital please." She said as she pilled the door closed and the seat belt over herself.

"I can do that," The taxi driver replied, pushing his baseball cap back on his head so he could better see the traffic he was pulling out into.  As he pulled away, he started to try and make small talk, something Delilah hated more than anything in the world. "So why you goin' to the hospital?  Nothin' ta do with ya health I’d hope." He said in a strong Boston accent, with a few words having a hint of a Brooklyn inflection.

"Job interview." She answered, looking into his rear-view mirror, faking a smile.  "Thanks for the concern."

"Don't Mention it." He said with a wink.  Delilah shuddered.  "So you have a strange way of talking, where abouts are you from anyways?" he asked, trying to imitate her southern twang.

"Alabama." She answered, pretending to get lost in the papers that lay on her lap, an attempt at halting all future chances for more awkward small talk.