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But he pushed the plate too hard. It knocked over a glass of orange juice. Ant reflexively pushed back out of the way as the juice flooded the table and dripped down on to the floor.
“Oh come on!” shouted his dad annoyed at all of it. “You know how much money I’ve spent on your college already?”
Ant didn’t answer him. Instead she got up and grabbed the roll of paper towels off the counter. She tore a handful off and began mopping up the mess.
“Whoa. What happened here?” asked Nikki. She was standing in the doorway. In sweats and a t-shirt. Her hair in a towel, still wet from the shower.
“Nothing,” answered Ant as she continued to both ignore her father and clean up the spill.
“Doesn’t look like nothing.”
Cap snapped. “You’re right. It’s not nothing. It’s a big something. But it doesn’t concern you. Not everything in this family concerns you.”
“Geez. Sorry. I was just asking. You don’t have to have a hissy fit about it.”
“Isn’t there somewhere you need to be?”
“Nope.”
“Work?”
“Day off.”
“I can change that for you.”
“Look,” said Nikki. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your little family party. I just came down for some coffee.” Then she tried to step over Ant, but misjudged the distance and came down right on her hand.
“Ow! What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to get a little coffee.”
“Now?” asked Ant. “Do you have to have coffee right now? Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something? Can’t you see I’m literally on my hands and knees trying clean up this stupid spill?”
“Geez. I’m sorry. You don’t have to be so dramatic.”
“Will you just leave. Please. None of this is any of your business.”
Nikki looked down at Ant and then up at Cap. “Fine,” she said. Then she stormed back upstairs and slammed the door behind her.
Cap stepped to
the bottom of the stairs and yelled up. “You slam that door in my house one more time and you’re ass will be back out on the street.”
Ant got up off the floor and shoved the roll of paper towels at him. “That was mean.”
Then she headed upstairs to take a shower leaving him alone with his mediocre meal and sticky linoleum.
“What the hell just happened?” Cap asked the empty kitchen. “All I wanted was to have a peaceful little breakfast…”
Meanwhile, across town, Perry waited. Down by the lake, on top of a rock, he sat and waited. A brown, wooden, paint stained briefcase by his feet. He said to himself he’d give it just ten more minutes. Then he’d said it again, and then again. This had now gone on for the better part of an hour.
He took a sip from the styrofoam cup that held his now tepid coffee and let out a long, frustrated breath. It was clear that Romeo wasn’t going to show up, that he wasn’t being treated with the respect he thought he deserved. It was clear he wasn’t being taken seriously. But the bank of the lake was peaceful, so he waited and waited and then, he waited some more. Getting just a bit more offended with each passing minute.
16
Perfect ribbons of rib eye hit the griddle and began to sizzle. Steak scented steam rose out through the exhaust hood and up to the sky as the meat’s marbling began to melt and morph into flavor. Fat equals flavor. Any good chef will tell you that.
Next to the meat a mound of diced white onions sat, slowly stewing in its own sweet juices. The natural sugars caramelizing and turning the edges of each bit a deliciously burnished brown.
