“Are you staying for long?” Danisha asks. “No, I don’t think so,” I reply. “I just want to help Kota and go to my friend Raena’s place.” She nods. “I understand. Also, I think you should get changed when we get inside.” I put Kota back in the safety of his cage and closed its door. “Let us help you.” Tommy says. “Thanks,” I reply, “my arms were getting tired from lugging those damn things around.” He grabs my bins and has Danisha carry my backpack and Kota.

We head inside the house from the front porch. Their house looks tidy and clean. The wallpaper is filled with green vines and leaves, the floor is a shiny brown laminate. They have a big living room with bean-bags, a TV mounted on the wall with a black leather couch against the wall on the other side of the room, two matching chairs next to the couch, and numerous acrylic paintings of flowers and Italian landscapes of Rome and Sicily. The upstairs railing is wrapped in a small string of yellow LED lights.

In the right corner is the kitchen, with the same flooring and wallpaper. All their utensils are neatly stacked and on a towel on the counter.

“We’ll put your things in the living room, is that okay?” Tommy asks. “Yeah,” I say. “I’m going to grab some new clothes first and then change in the bathroom.” I wait for them to put down my stuff, and then get pajamas from one of my bins. “I’ll take care of your cat while you’re away,” Danisha says. “Oh, and you can change in my room, if it makes you more comfortable.”

It caught me off guard actually, but since she was offering, I didn’t want to say no. “Thanks, where is it?” I ask. “Upstairs, the second door to the left.” I nod and go up.

There’s four doors I see. Danisha’s room is the door in the middle, and there’s two others on both sides, plus another one next to the room on the right. I go into Danisha’s room. It has white carpeting with a huge purple, fluffy rug. Her TV is standing on a cabinet in front of her bed, which has a hot pink blanket. Again, there’s pictures all over the wall of flowers. What’s with this girl and her flowers?

I take off my sweater and put it on her bed. Then, as I start to unbutton my blouse, I hear a knock. “Hello?” I shout to the door. “Are you hungry?” Tommy asks me, his voice deep and stern. “A tiny bit, yes.” I say, “what’s for dinner?”

“Mashed potatoes, carrots, spinach, and ham,”

“Sounds great, be out in a few.” I hear Tommy walk downstairs and quickly continue to get into my pajamas.

The set is a light pink, both the top and bottoms are long sleeved and light pink with bunnies all over the bottoms. I take my dirty clothes from Danisha’s bed, go out and walk downstairs. “Hey, Leah? Your kitten… His leg is sprained pretty badly. You said Marie did this?” I nod, feeling my anger flare up again.

Danisha comes up to me holding Kota to her chest, who now has a splint wrapped around his leg. “This is the best I can do, he'll need time to recover. As for your ex, I hope you see to it that she's punished for this.” She gives me a stern yet reassuring look. “Thank you so much,” I tell her. "And, I will. But I don't have the strength to face her. Not yet."

“You’re welcome, and I understand,” she replies, giving Kota to me, and going upstairs. “I’m changing into something more comfortable, and then I’ll take you where you need to go. In the meantime, food is on the table for you.”

I hear Danisha go upstairs and I gently put Kota in his cage, then go to the kitchen. “Hey, Tommy, where’s the bathroom?” I ask him. He’s at the sink washing up the dirty dishes. He turns and looks at me. “In the room on the left from Danisha’s. Better hurry and make sure your food doesn’t get cold,” Tommy says.

Outside of its door, I knock to make sure no one is in there. Hearing silence, I let myself in and wash my hands, then check my appearance in the mirror. My long blonde hair is frizzy and tangled in a crooked ponytail, and my face is oily. I take out my hair from its scrunchie tie and fix it. I come out of the bathroom and go downstairs to the kitchen table. I sit down in front of my meal, grab the fork and knife and begin to eat. I’d been really hungry and hadn't realized it.

Within just a few minutes, I scarfed everything down. I pat my lips dry with a napkin and put it on the empty plate. “This was great!”, I say to Tommy. “Who made it?”

He laughs. “Well, me and Danisha, of course. Did you remember to pray before you ate?” he asks me. I hear him turn off the water. He comes to the table and sits next to me. “Oh, no, I’m not like that, I’m sorry.” He sighs in disappointment. “I understand. Not everyone is like me. I keep forgetting I’m just an old man.” He has a solemn look, and in the dining room light, I can see all of his features.

His face has some wrinkles, especially under his brown eyes. His hair is a thin brown with some hints of grey. He has a plump but loose figure, as if he lost weight, or is trying to lose some. “How old are you?” I ask, “and what about your wife?” He smiles at me for the first time. “I’m 63. My wife is 58. She doesn’t come around here anymore though.” Tommy pauses, his eyes well up with tears and quickly puts his head down. I start to feel awkward. “Take your time,” I tell him.

He continues after a brief moment. “Agatha left me. I’m not sure why, I guess she just didn’t like the way I was anymore. She said she wanted more children, and more excitement, more of everything. But I just couldn’t give her another child; she wanted a son. Several years ago, we had a daughter. She was eleven years old at the time. Penelope Fayden was her name. My wife spoiled her rotten, and I told her it wasn’t the way to raise her. Penelope always had to get her away, no matter what the consequences were. She used to raise hell.

"One day, I tried to tell Agatha to calm down with her lavish spending, buying herself unnecessary things, and tried to get her to save money instead.” Tommy excuses himself to get some water in the kitchen, and comes back to the chair.

A little intrigued now, I wait for him to continue.

However, I hear Danisha come down the steps and call for me. “Hey, Leah, what do you think?” I look at Tommy. “No worries, I’ll tell you the rest later.” He gets up again and goes to the living room, slowly sitting down on the couch.

I look up at Danisha and she has a long, blue dress on, and a silver clutch purse in her hand. Her eyeshadow is medium-light purple, with a darker lipstick shade of the same color. She smiles at me with her pearly whites. “You look nice!”, I tell her. “Where are you going?” She laughs a little bit. “I’m going out with some new friends, but I’m going to drop you off at your friend’s place first. Are you ready?,” Danisha asks. “Yes, hold on, let me just check if Kota is hungry.” I go to his pet taxi and open the door.

I get a small can of his kitten food and open the lid, then put it in a corner of the cage. I pet him, and he purrs, and gets up from a nap and goes to eat. I check to make sure I have all of my stuff, which I do. I pick Kota up and pet him while sitting on the couch.

“Well?” Danisha says. “Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m ready, just have to put Kota back in the cage.” I stand again put him back on the blanket in his taxi and close the cage.

I look at Tommy. He swirls his thumbs and has an angry look on his face now. “We should get going,” she says, rushing. “Sorry”, I say, closing the cage’s door. Danisha grabs my bins full of clothes, and swings my backpack on her shoulder.

She goes out of the front door and doesn’t wait for me. I pet Kota, who’s still on my chest, and ask Tommy if he’s okay. “I’ll be alright, just you go, please. I’m having a tough time,” he says, not looking at me. I turn back and go out to the car. I notice Danisha has already put my things in the back, so I walk to the passenger door and get in. “Sorry. I had to see if your uncle was doing well.” I tell her.

“Leah, I’m sorry too, but I really had to get out of there. He always gets sulky like that. I’m twenty-one now, but he always got like that in front of me, and my grandma and my mother. It gets really awkward sometimes.”

There’s so much sorrow and angst in this family. Maybe that’s why I can relate to them, I guess.