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“I don’t have much to cook for breakfast. I could go into town and pick up something.”
I leaned on the banister. “Do they have a decent restaurant around here? I’d love to treat you and Flower to breakfast.”
“We don’t have any fancy restaurants, but we do have a pretty good diner.”
“Sounds good to me. Food is food, whether it’s served on china or a paper plate. Remember when you used to always tell Momma that?”
He nodded. “I’m amazed you remember.”
“I remember everything.”
He picked up a hairbrush off the entry table and brushed his hair back. Then he unplugged his cell phone and slipped it into his pocket.
“Flower just got out the bathtub and she’s getting dressed,” he said. “We should be ready to go in about fifteen or twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting on the front porch. I’ve grown fond of that swing. I always wished we had one when I was a child.”
“Really?” He looked at me in bewilderment. “You never told me that.”
I cringed with my back to him as I went out the door. There was so much I had never told him.
• • •
“So Flower, what’s your favorite subject in school?” I asked her after we were seated and eating at The Golden Spoon; the first place I had seen fully integrated with all races since I’d hit town. Good food was good food. All of the waitresses were white but I knew who was
in the kitchen.
Flower’s bright eyes looked up at me. “Hmm, I guess it would be math, but I’m not sure yet. I’m only in the first grade.”
She was seated beside me in the booth and I admired the great rush job I had done on her hair. “Yeah, well, you have plenty of time to decide,” I said, patting her on the shoulder.
“Thanks for doing my hair again.”
“You’re so very welcome.”
Daddy was quiet. I guess he was just enjoying his two children interacting with each other.
Flower said, “I like music.”
“Is that so? Do you play any instruments?” I asked.
“No, but I want to learn how to play the piano.”
“What a coincidence. I played the piano when I was a little girl.”
“You did?” she asked with disbelief, like she was the only child in America who had ever wanted to play it.
I thought back to how much I had enjoyed taking lessons from one of our neighbors, Mrs. Duncan, a couple of blocks over. Then Robert, the boy who lived next door to her, teased me something horrible one day and I never went back. My mother insisted that I continue, but I just couldn’t. My nerves were shot.
Daddy’s expression told me that he was remembering the incident also.
“Yes, but I didn’t keep up with it,” I said to Flower. “Promise me that once you start taking lessons, you’ll never stop.”
“I promise.”
“Good girl.”
Daddy finally interjected. “I’ll find someone to teach you this week. Okay, sweetie?”
