Pieces of us

Chapter Twelve

“How was school today?” Mom asks me while doing the dishes.

I look up at her with her back turned to me, then return my attention to my lunch, stabbing the slices of yam with my fork like I have something against them.

“Dawn?” I raise my head to see her drying her hands and looking at me, “How did school go today?”

Terrible.

Someone called me a thief.

I turn back to stabbing my yam slices.

“What's wrong?” Mom moves towards me and reaches for my arm. I brush her hand off.

“Dawn?”

A lump forms in my throat as I chew on a chunk of the yam making it difficult to swallow.

“I'm sorry for shouting at you yesterday…”

I drop the fork and look at Mom. I move my chair back and leave the kitchen ignoring her as I go up to the bedroom. I hurriedly take off my uniform and head to the bathroom. Maybe taking a shower will make me feel better.

Once I'm done and return to the room to get dressed, Mom's sitting and waiting for me.

“Dawn Akinwunmi,” she says, “what was that about?”

I quietly pick a dress from the wardrobe and throw it on.

“Young lady, I'm talking to you.”

I look at her, “Geez, Mom, I don't know. What do you want me to say?”

“You know you're being rude right now…”

“Sorry” my answer comes out a bit sharp.

Mom takes a deep breath. There's a short pause and then, “You barely touched your food…”

“I'll go and finish it,” I say, already walking out of the room. My plate of yam and egg sauce is still sitting on the kitchen counter. I manage to eat it all up. While I'm washing the plate, Mom returns to the kitchen. From hindsight, I can see her leaning on the counter with her arms folded.

“Dawn,” she starts quietly, “I am sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to snap at you.”

I turn to look at her. “ Forget that. I want to know what's happening with you, Mom.”

She blinks looking a bit confused,

“Since you came to my school, you've been acting weird. Who's that woman?” I ask her,

Mom looks away from me, “That's nothing you should worry about…”

I shake my head, “I knew you wouldn't tell me. You know, sometimes, it feels like you're hiding something…”

“Baby, it's just adults’ stuff…”

“I don't believe you. I basically know most things about you but, sometimes, it feels as if there's a box of secrets you've kept locked away. That you don't want me to see…”

Mom grimaces, rubbing her palms on her jeans.

“Is there something…”

“There's nothing, Dawn…”

“Is it about Dad?” That's the only thing I can think of. Maybe it's what has Mom all worked up. But how would Nora's Mom be involved?

“It's not.” Mom answers.

I watch her keenly as her eyes keep averting from mine. She takes a deep breath and walks up to me and then pulls me in a hug. She pulls me in even closer while my arms hang at my side.

“It's nothing to worry about.” Mom says still hugging me.

But how can I not worry?

* *

I'm lying on the bed, still drowsy from sleep. I reach for my phone to check the time.

It's 7:30 PM.

In the dimly lit room, I can see Mom's empty bed. I slowly get up and head downstairs. I stop in my tracks as I hear Mr Omar's voice. There's also the sound of cutlery clashing with a plate.

Since when did he eat in the kitchen?

Well, I guess it's his house and he can eat anywhere.

“Dawn has been doing really well. Her grades are surprisingly good for someone who's only recently joined the school.”

I stand at the door with my hand to the knob,

“Really?”

“Yes. She's picking things up quickly. She only needs to put a little more work into Maths and Computer Science.”

There's a brief pause.

“You okay, Debbie?” He's asking Mom,

“Um… why do you ask?” Mom answers,

“You just seem distant these days…”

Even Mr Omar's noticed huh?

“I'm alright, sir.”

“Is it finances?”

“No, Sir. I'm okay. Really.”

“You're not ill, are you?”

Mom lets out a soft laugh.

“I'm being serious.” The tone of his voice has lightened though.

“I'm alright, Sir.” Mom says laughing.

“You know, if you need help at all, you can talk to me.” There's a pause.

“I know and I'm grateful.”

“Alright then.” Mr Omar sighs.

Another pause follows.

I hear the kitchen chair drag on the floor.

“Thanks for the food.” He says and I hear the sitting room door open and then shut.