K. Randis - Spilled Milk

To mask the overwhelming smile that spread across his face he hid his face in my hair.

“One condition,” I said, holding up a finger, “I don’t want to lose you as a friend. If we ever break up, promise me we’ll still be friends.”

He nodded immediately. “We won’t have to worry about that, because I’m never letting you go.”

“Smooth,” I said and rolled my eyes. “But promise me.”

He motioned an X over his heart and lowered his eyes to mine. “Promise.”

“Just one more thing.”

“Ugh, what now?”

“Go get your brother. We’re late.”

Paul jumped off the couch and I grabbed my coat as we bolted out the front door. The bus had just come to a stop as we reached the corner. Red signs flashed as the double doors opened to let the kids off and Joseph hopped off the bus and shrugged his Spongebob book bag onto his shoulders. “Hi Paulie!”

“I need to go to work, I’ll call you later?” I pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and floated towards the center of town.

“Ew, gross.” Joseph crinkled his nose. “I’m telling mom.”

“No you’re not. Go on, get inside.” Paul winked at me and put his hand on Joseph’s shoulder and led him toward the house.

Joseph did tell Gina that he had seen me kiss Paul on the cheek when he got off the bus. After work that night Paul called to ask me to come to dinner to their house so I could meet his dad.

“Sorry.” Paul apologized. “My mom’s all excited that I have a girlfriend and I think she just wants to get to know you. And my dad’s never met you.”

“It’s fine. I’d love to come over.”

Instead of asking for permission from Mom, I just called off work the next afternoon and planned to have Gina drive me home around the time I would usually get home from work.

“Maybe Brooke will play with me since you don’t,” Joseph teased, poking his head into Paul’s room for the hundredth time that night.

“Mooooooooom. Get Joe out please!”

Joseph disappeared and raced across the hall to his bedroom, yelling as he ran. “I’m not even in there Mom, I’m right here in my own room.”

I could hear Gina’s footsteps waltz down the hallway. “Joe, leave them alone.” She pressed the bedroom door open and peered in on us lounging on the bed watching TV. “And this door stays open you two. That means more than a crack.” She winked at me but her eyes were serious.

“Come on, Ma.” Paul buried his face into his pillow.

“Dinner in five.” She turned on her heel and headed back towards the kitchen.

“Your mom’s cooking smells amazing.”

“I bet it does, your stomachs been growling for the past two hours.”

I nudged him and he nudged me back. Paul flipped on top of me and moved his lips across mine as I laughed into his kiss.

“Oooooh.” Joseph’s voice carried through the room.

Paul looked behind him. “Joe I thought I told you to-”

“Kids! Dinner, come eat.”

As if on cue, Lou walked through the front door and set his briefcase down in the foyer. “Where’s my beautiful wife?” He scanned the kitchen and watched her set some plates down. “Ah, there she is, there’s my girl.” Before doing anything else, he crossed the room and draped her in several kisses on her cheeks and lips. “How are you darling?”

“Dad, geeze, really?” Paul sat down and pulled the chair out next to him, motioning for me to sit down next to him. I did and watched the romantic comedy unfold before me.

There was pasta with vodka sauce, sausage and salad. Warm bread baked fresh hours before was nestled in the middle of the table and Gina filled Lou’s wine glass for the second time. I introduced myself between bites of macaroni and bread. Lou seemed impressed that I had a job and was enrolled in all honors classes.

“That’s really great, really something. Good for you.” His grin was ear to ear as he ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. Gina admired him and blotted the red lipstick she put on seconds before Lou had walked through the door.

Joseph talked about the art project he made at school that day and everyone listened, laughed and ate. Paul sipped his water and glimpsed at me for signs that I was going to run screaming from the table. I never floundered.

I observed in awe. His parent’s genuine concern, their knowledgeable advice and humor caught me by surprise. The dinner table was warm and inviting. Something sparked in my chest. A profound and dragging realization crossed my mind as I finished seconds of macaroni and thirds of the salad. The family I had at home was not normal.

The kissing, loving and caring families you saw on TV or read about in novels were not fake. They were right here, in this kitchen, laughing with each other and loving every second of finding out what each other’s day was like. They ate pasta, and made fart jokes, and hated their jobs just like everyone else. They were real.

It wasn’t in my head that something was unusual about my family; somehow I knew something wasn’t right, but I could never put my finger on it. No one ever told me that what I had at home was not normal. Now, no one had to. I was witnessing it with my own eyes. I was hearing it, watching it, tasting it and loving it.

Joseph reached across the table to grab the parmesan cheese and on instinct I panicked to grab the glass of milk he spilled over. I thought about what happens when a glass is spilled at our dinner table, and I couldn’t watch that happen to Joseph.

“Joseph, come with me, we’ll go in your room.” My voice rose in panic. I couldn’t watch Lou hit him, or shove him into a wall. I didn’t want to hear the glass smash across the kitchen floor with threats to have it cleaned up or else. I grabbed Joseph by the hand. “Let’s go.”

The table was staring at me. Gina, eyes wide, ascended from her seat and grabbed the closest napkin. Lou put his hand out in a welcoming and cautious movement. “It’s okay, Brooke. Really, it’s all right hun. It’s just a little spilled milk.”

I waited for the rage to start, the yelling and the chair throwing. Lou grabbed a few more napkins and mopped up the white puddle underneath Joseph’s chair. “There we go, all better. You want some more milk little man?”

Joseph nodded with an eager smile.

“All right, here ya go. Leave the milk in the glass this time okay?” Gina let out a nervous chuckle as she watched me make my way back to my seat.

Sweat masked my face from the adrenaline that had no outlet and I started to push the food around on my plate.

Gina noticed. “Paul, you and Brooke look finished, why don’t you two go hang out for a while before I have to take her home?”

Paul nodded and took my hand as we made our way down the hallway. “Wait,” I said. I turned around and headed back towards the dinner table.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m sorry that I-you know, I just thought-” I was so used to apologizing. I felt I had to, I just wasn’t sure what for.

“No, honey, it’s okay. Everything’s fine.” The corners of her mouth turned upward. “Go be with Paul, everyone’s fine here.”

I moved towards the living room to catch up with Paul. “Can we go outside for a minute?” My heart raced underneath my hoodie and I needed to breathe a minute. “Just need some fresh air.”

“Yea, sure. Let’s go.”

We walked in silence for two blocks as I tried to process what had happened. There was the glass, the spilled milk. His father didn’t yell, or hit anything or throw anything. The reaction that I had anticipated never came, and it left me standing at my chair in flight mode without a reason. I turned my head away from Paul and he must have noticed.