Mafia Baby

CHAPTER TWO

JENNA

The sound of metal dropping on each other echoed from my brain to my forehead, causing a slight migraine for me. It must be Mom doing the dishes. I’d promised to do them as early as I could. She would have guessed that I slept late, having to deal with my running stomach. Speaking of which, I still couldn’t remember what could be the cause of that. Which was quite scary because I wouldn’t know what could trigger it again. My body felt heavy as I forced it up. A feeling of discomfort engulfed me as I tried to get off the bed; I felt irritated and uneasy. The cold sensation around my lower part reminded me that it was that time of the month when I was to give a percentage of the blood I produced to nature. I smiled slightly, remembering a post I'd seen on Twitter.

I still wished I had more time to make up for the time I slept last night. I folded my sheets for laundry as I went on to prepare for the day. I had my bath, cleaned myself up, and fled downstairs, promising myself to put on my best attitude for the day.

“Good morning, Mom,” I greeted her with a hug from behind, feeling the warmth of her tender body.

“Morning, sweetie,” she responded, a smile written all over her face, signaling the occurrence of something. “I made your favorite breakfast – french fries with chicken.”

Something about Mom and how she's known for lighting up the mood of the day. I stared at her, admiring her strength and beauty. The occasion of the day suddenly flashed through my mind. How could I not have remembered?

“Oh my God. I'm so sorry, mom. I'm sorry.” I said, clenching my fists together as I approached her for a tight hug.

“It's okay, sweetie.” She replied with a giggle.

“Happy birthday, mom.”

“Thank you, darling.”

Dad was so fixed on the TV, he had no idea what was happening between me and mom at the dining table. He wouldn't miss any update on the pandemic that had put the whole country on lockdown.

“Morning, Dad,” I yelled from the dining table, trying as much as possible to cover the loud thick voice reporting from the TV.

“Hello, Jen,” he said, dismissively.

I turned to Mom, disappointed in myself. “I'm so sorry.”

She sighed, “honestly, it's okay.”

I noticed that the vase on the dining table had been replaced with a new one with brightly colored plastic flowers. I took an apple from the bowl of fruits that sat in front of me. It wasn't as though I felt like eating it, I didn't want my mouth to be idle.

The aroma of the roasted chicken filled the air. One could tell easily that it was a special occasion in the house. Mom's apron was new, she's used to the habit of treating herself with gifts, no matter how insignificant they may seem. I wondered why I didn't pick that trait from her as I took large bites of the apple.

“Why on earth would hand sanitizers be scarce in the almighty America?” Dad yelled from his seat in the parlor. “What happened to all the alcohol manufacturers in the States?”

“What's up with the Pfizer company, Dad? I thought they said they were making progress on the vaccine?” I asked Dad, trying to court his attention toward my direction.

“Well, who knows? I'm beginning to sense some political manipulation in this pandemonium. Whatever.” He said with frustration.

Extra ideas as to how I could further the discussion eluded me. I turned to Mom to ask her if she needed help with anything in the kitchen.

“Well, I could use some help with the chicken in the oven. Keep an eye on it for me, please.”

“Anything for the birthday person,” I replied. I peeped through the glass of the oven to observe the chicken. It seemed as though it would take a long time for it to be ready. I wasn't in the mood for more apples, so I turned to Dad to discuss with him. I needed something to keep me busy. Something to stop me from thinking about how bad I was at keeping romantic relationships.

“Hey, Dad,” I called. “What's the update on Mrs. DiCaprio's husband who went missing last month?” It was after the question came out of my lips that regret flooded my conscience.

“Well, no one knows about his whereabouts until now,” Dad answered.

“But where was he last seen?” I asked, trying to imagine what confusion Mrs. DiCaprio would be in. Bad things happen to people who don't deserve them. It rarely happens to those who deserve them.

Mrs. DiCaprio lives right next to our house in a semi-detached apartment with a lawn at its front. Beautiful flowers adorn her short-fenced compound. Her kids are very fond of me, especially her little daughter, Maria. Sadly, Maria won't have any idea of what is happening.

“Last time he was seen with his family was when he was leaving for work,” Dad replied. Dad loves to be involved in discussions as such. He is a man with defined principles and disciplines that won't be compromised under any circumstances, no matter how threatening they may seem.

“Someone forgot that she was responsible for the chicken in the oven,” Mom said. She brought the brown-colored chunk of meat from the oven, ready to be served to everyone.

I felt disappointment creep through my chest again. Why couldn't I just make this woman happy for once and do the things that she would love? First, it was forgetting about her birthday, and then it was forgetting about the chicken she told me to check for her.

“I understand that you're having a good time with your dad,” she said. One thing about mom is how she likes making excuses for the errors of people, rather than addressing the errors they committed.

“Speaking of good times, I've not been seeing Kelvin around lately,” she said with a smirk, trying to tease me – something to force me out of the disappointment I had engulfed myself in. “What's up with you two?” She continued.

“Er… I… I'm not sure. I don't know why he's not been coming around lately. I thought I'd be able to visit him today, but it's my period day, and the last thing I want is to feel uncomfortable around him.” I wasn't sure if my response made sense, but yes, it was better than the feeling of silence, admitting that something was not right between myself and Kelvin.

Confused, Mom looked away and continued with what she was doing with the chicken. I began to wonder why it was taking so much time. My insides were tearing up, and the smell of mom's chicken was exciting my salivary glands.

“My dad and I were just discussing the missing Mr. DiCaprio.” I tried to lure Mom into the conversation.

“Guys, let's not spoil the moment by discussing a missing person,” she replied.

I agreed with her on that. She deserved more than a sad discussion on her birthday. I've grown to admire her as a woman all these years. Her beauty, politeness, and positivity are things that never cease to brighten the mood of the atmosphere.

“Who wants to have some chicken and fries?” She said with excitement. I keep wondering what makes people happy on their birthdays when they should be reminded that they're a year closer to being feasted upon by worms and whatever makes humans become skeletons under the earth.

“Me!” I yelled, raising my hands in excitement, trying to match her positivity. One thing about being in a happy family? You get to be happy all the time. I wouldn't say that ours was a happy one, but mom's bright smiles covered up for the whole family, it served as an umbrella that shielded us, no matter how Dad worried that the pandemic could get to us.

“My love, Jenna,” Mom whispered as we all settled on the dining table, “meet me in my room after breakfast, I need to tell you something.”

What could she have to say that she couldn't say at the dining? Since when did we start keeping secrets in the family?

I discarded whatever thoughts that wouldn't make me enjoy my favorite breakfast, and munched on the chicken I was served.