The Café on Orange Street By Josephine Sporte
My daddy takes me to lunch every Sunday. He and Mommy don’t speak much anymore. They don’t look each other in the eye when Mommy drops me off at his house. Sometimes she doesn’t even drop me off at his house; she just drives me straight to the restaurant and then picks me up afterward. She doesn’t want me in Daddy’s car, I don’t think. She’s probably right about that. But I wasn’t in the accident, so I don’t know why she’s trying to scare me about him so much. He’s careful now. But Mommy still won’t let me ride in Daddy’s car. Mommy drops me off at the café on Orange Street today, but she doesn’t get out of the car. She just stops at the curb and kisses my cheek goodbye. I hop out of the car and close the door behind me, trying not to slam it because I know that the noise still makes Mommy jump a little bit. She doesn’t drive away until I’m in the restaurant. Daddy is sitting in a booth next to the window. He’s looking out at the street, and I wonder if he’s watching Mommy’s car. He does that sometimes when she drops me off. I think maybe that’s why she never comes into the restaurant with me. I slide into the booth and smooth my dress under my bottom. My legs are too short for my feet to touch the floor, so they just dangle. They’re heavy, because of the thick soles on my shoes. One of the buckles is broken, so Mommy helped me put a safety pin in. Daddy offered to buy me a new pair, but she wouldn’t let him. I wish she wouldn’t be so stubborn. None of the other kids have to wear safety pins in their shoe buckles. Some girl at school, named Annie, laughed at me for the first week or two after the buckle broke. Annie is really mean. But Mommy won’t let me tell Daddy about her. She doesn’t like it when Daddy tries to talk to me the same way she does. “Hi, kiddo!” Daddy says when he sees me. His face is shaved. I smile. “Hi,” I say, folding my hands on the table in front of me and straightening my back. That’s how Mommy told me to sit. She says slouching is bad for your health. Daddy slouches.
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