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“Have a seat this is almost done. I’m taking the croissants out of the oven now. There is a pitcher of mimosas in the fridge.
I took the pitcher out of the fridge and took it with me to the table.
I sat down and waited for Kerem to bring me my plate. I missed Saturday morning breakfast with him. This was our time that we never let anything interrupt. He cooked and sometimes I would cook. Every once in a while, we would go out, but every Saturday morning breakfast was ours, together.
He brought in my bowl of food, which smelled delicious. He went back for his and then sat across from me.
He bowed his head for grace, which I didn’t know if I’d ever seen him do before, but I did the same.
We both started eating. My food was good, but the mimosa was better.
“Did you do something different with the mimosa? It tastes different,” I asked.
“I used pineapple orange juice and added some triple sec,” Kerem said.
“I really like it.”
“I’m glad you do. How is everything at the center? I miss hearing all of the stories about the kids.”
“Things are going very well at the centers. One of the new three-year-olds that you haven’t met, Kia, decided that she was going to go on a cursing spree. She started off slowly by saying, “what the” to everything. She said, “what the,” to breakfast when I sat it in front of her and she said, “what the,” when the story time book ended. By lunchtime when I put her spaghetti and bread in front of her, she said, “Ms. Key, this ain’t chicken nuggets.” I said, “I know today is spaghetti day, Kia.” She said, “ain’t this bout a bitch. Who the hell asked for paghetti?” and slapped her hand on the table. Me and Ms. Terry looked at each other and had to fight to hold in our laugh. Ms. Terry was better at it than me. She disciplined Kia while I walked out of the room to get myself together.”
“Kids will say anything,” Kerem laughed.
“They will. Her dad was so embarrassed when we told him what she’d said. He’s a minister or something and had no idea where she got that from.”
“That’s always the story, right?” He laughed.
“Yep,” I chuckled. “Oh and Princess, Averie’s niece, starting coming a couple days a week.”
“Roc and Coco’s little one?”
“Yes, when we were in New York, she talked about trying to get Princess around more kids her age so she won’t be so grown. You know she knows all the luxury name brands and can tell you who everyone is on the VH-1 reality shows,” I snickered.
“I remembered she said something about my Gucci loafers being like her daddy’s from a couple seasons ago,” Kerem added.
“Right! So, Coco started bringing her as soon as we got back. The first couple of days she came in some name brand clothes that were way too nice for Princess to play in and get dirty. Princess was carrying a little purse in the bend of her arm and looking down at all the kids like they were peasants. I told Coco to go to Target and get Princess some daycare clothes and some nice sneakers. She needed to feel free to get dirty and play with the kids. Long story short, after the first couple days and the wardrobe change, Princess started mingling with the kids. Of course, she has her own little girl gang, but at least she is being a kid and not her momma’s best friend,” I finished.
“That’s cool. I remember thinking that Roc was going to have his hands full with her. She is already just like her mom, and she is what four or five?” Kerem said.
“Yep, she just turned five. I think with the right influences we can turn her back to her childhood.”
We continued eating and talking. I’d missed our Saturday breakfast conversations. He told me about the things happening on his job and some ideas he had for the building that we’d decided to purchase.
After breakfast was finished, it was usually my job to clean the dishes and the kitchen. Since the plates, utensils, and cups were plastic, clean up was a breeze. I only had to clean the skillets.
Kerem stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. He nuzzled his nose into my neck as I was wiping down the counter.
“You smell so good,” he said while kissing my neck.
I paused my movements, tilted my neck, and encouraged him to continue.
“How much time do we have?” he asked between kisses.
“All the time we need,” I moaned.
“Good,” he replied.
He turned me around and lifted me by the waist. I wrapped my legs around his waist while he carried me back to the bedroom.
