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“Um I can’t think of a reason Mike would ever hurt you honey.” Porsche was confused hadn’t she clung to him the night before once she knew it wasn’t the monster from her nightmare.
“No, my other daddy.”
“Oh, well, I know sometimes mommies and daddies do things kids don’t like to save them from a thing that might hurt them.” Porsche wished Doc was there to frame a question and respond. “But I’m thinking that wasn’t the case with you.”
Sydney shook her head.
“My mommy was there too.”
“What did they do?” Porsche realized Mike was right, even though she was surprised Syd had welcomed her into a small circle and was opening up to her.
“Maybe I didn’t understand cuz I’m not a grown up. They said it was about showing love the right way. Let’s just color together.” Sydney pulled in on her lips to cut out the idea of talking completely.
Porsche understood the difference between being pushed until you break and final speak and being pushed so you wouldn’t clam up. The body language easily translated by the woman who chose the latter nine times out of ten.
They continued to color, flipping pages and moving on in search of ones untouched by the others who usually ruled the roost around there. Sydney stretched then turned to Porsche. “I’m still a little bit hungry. Can I have more to eat?”
“Sure.” The main breakfast had been cleared away and she remembered Zoe giving her a nod goodbye a while ago. “Let’s go in the kitchen and find something for you.”
Pushing the swinging silver door open the two wandered in the room lit by sunlight from the far windows. She flipped on the overhead light and headed to the fridge.
“This is like a restaurant,” she said, and Porsche noticed the thumb had returned to the mouth.
“What do you want?” The door open with meticulously organized leftover containers, bottles of drinks and a few random fruit containers had to be confusing to the little girl
“Oh, um, maybe some cereal?” Sydney said then quickly stuck her thumb back in her mouth.
Porsche found a bowl and shook the nearest box of cereal to get Sydney’s attention. With a shrug from the girl Porsche poured it in before adding milk and carried it back to their table.
“I hope you like Life?”
“Thank you.” Sydney started to eat the cereal, her face matching the kid from the box from when she was a kid. “This doesn’t have lots of sugar, does it?”
“Compared to the cinnamon roll you ate earlier, no,” Porsche said, then had a bit of panic slip in. “Why? You’re not a diabetic, are you?”
“What’s that?” she asked.
“If you, were you’d know, lots of needle sticks and checking your blood daily.”
“I don’t like needles.”
“Most don’t,” Porsche said. “But why are you worried about sugar?”
Sydney circled her spoon in the bowl a few times, her face twisting a bit. “Sugar’s bad for you, mama used to eat a lot of it I guess and Daddy didn’t like it.”
“Mike?” Porsche asked since body shaming in any form was a burning crimson flag in her mind after Clive. The first step in tearing a woman down and loosening their self-worth.
“No, I don’t know, Daddy Mitch maybe said that Daddy might have and that’s why he didn’t want to be around my mommy anymore,” she said, the mind already being conditioned to what is right or wrong about a woman. “But Daddy always gives me treats.”
“Well, Red is a doctor,” Porsche said. “He says kids need energy. Anything is fine to eat if you balance it. Like eat a whole package of Oreos, but next time it’s a container of strawberries. Unless the sugar makes you wild it should be okay.”
“Do you know when my dad will be done?”
“It shouldn’t take much longer. They’ll be coming out soon.” Porsche looked at her watch, recognizing it had been almost an hour. Her stomach tightened with prayers all was going well for Mike.
It was strange to not have the same low hum of activity. Now that the apartments were in place the rooms upstairs were there for guests not club members. No longer was the clubhouse busy all day long. Meals, evenings yes, but kids were in school now and with spring brought the ability to work on outdoor projects. In many ways the empty room was just like her mind at the moment, clear with her able to focus on the one child across the table from her.
“I can wash my own bowl,” Sydney said after she ate the last square of her cereal.
