Little Moments

by Madison Street

  My mother notices me watching, and she ushers me to come closer.

  Reaching her hand out, she says softly, “Come sweetie.”

  Letting out a deep breath, I walk forward and reach the bed. My father looks up at me and smiles. I don’t even know why he’s smiling. He shouldn’t be; there’s nothing to smile about.

  He notices my attitude and looks at Mom, asking with a scratchy voice, “Isa can you please leave us? I want to talk to Roman alone for a few minutes.”

  She nods her head, kisses him on the cheek, and leaves the room. Now it’s just us.

  “Come here Son.”

  He motions his hand toward me so I sit.

  “I know you’re sad. I under—”

  “No, I’m upset and scared. I don’t want this to end. I…I’m not ready.”

  I look at directly at him. “I’m not ready to say goodbye.”

  He whispers, “So don’t. Let’s just talk.”

  I give him a confused look. “Talk? About what?”

  “How was school today?”

  “Dad, it’s eleven fifteen in the morning. I was only there for a couple of hours.”

  He sighs deeply. “Fine, let me tell you a story.”

  “But Dad, you need your rest. You can barely breathe.”

  “I’m okay. So, a young man from a loving Italian family ventures out into the big city to discover the possibilities. He thought he would find a career, friends, adventure, but instead, he found the love of his life. At first, he was hesitant and thought that she would never fall in love with him, but after believing in himself, he found the confidence he needed to pursue her, and finally, he won her love. They married and shared long-lasting memories together until their greatest joy happened: the birth of their son. The father and son instantly became a dynamic duo. Their bond grew strong and unbreakable. The love between them would outlast eternity and never falter. Even when life takes an unexpected turn, their bond will remain intact. Even after death, he will always look after his son. From the heavens, he will watch over him and guide him through the tough choices in life. He will provide guidance in understanding life’s perils. His spirit will forever be within his son. And if his son ever feels lonely, I want him to know that he can always look up and talk to his father, even if it’s just to tell him how his day was.”

  Listening to his story I smile. My dad reaches up to touch my cheek. “I’ll always be here for you. Just talk whenever you need me.”

  Panic builds inside, and I just break down. Holding him tight, I cry, “I can’t! I can’t do it! I’m not ready!”

  He struggles to calm me down. “Let it out Roman.”

  “I’m going to miss you so much Daddy. What will I do without you? What’s going to happen?”

  “I’ll miss you too Son. You need to stay strong for your mother. I know she’ll act tough but I know her. She’ll need you, and you’ll need her. Take care of one another, and when you’re older, watch over her. You’re all she has left. Be a good son. Protect her. Keep her safe.”

  “But…but I’m just a kid. How can I do all that?”

  “Because I see goodness and compassion in you. You are strong, and I believe that you will be able to handle this. You can do this. I know you can.”

  I see his determination, and so I nod. “Okay, I promise Daddy.”

  We hold on to each other again until my mom walks back into the bedroom. We stay and watch over him, holding his hands until he breathes his last breath.

  As I think about the last day I spent with my father, I look down into my suitcase and find a framed picture of me and my parents at one of our travel spots. Anger and sadness courses through my body, and all I see is red. I look at the picture and see a broken family. Grabbing hold of it, I throw it across the room, shattering the glass. Seconds later, footsteps approach, and my uncle barges into the room.

  “Are you all right? What happened?”

  I shake my head. “No, no. I couldn’t keep it! I broke my word!”

  My uncle bends down and tries to calm me. “What? You broke what?”

  “My promise. I promised to keep her safe and…and I couldn’t. Now he must be disappointed in me. I messed up. I failed. He was wrong. I wasn’t strong enough.”

  Roman

  WALKING TO MY LOCKER, my best friend Gabe greets me in the hall.

  “Hey Roman, how was Christmas break?”

  “It was okay. You know the usual stuff. Working at the bakery.”

  Gabe smiles. “Oh man, your aunt’s sugar cookies are the best! I swear just thinking about them makes my stomach growl. Do you have to work tonight?”

  We reach my locker and I open it to grab the materials for my next class. “You know I work every night Gabe. When do I NOT work?”

  He pats my shoulder. “Dude! Come on, live a little. I’m thinking about throwing a party this weekend. You should come by. My sister’s friends will be there, and I bet they’d love to meet you.” He gives me a sly smile.

  Gathering my books and stuffing them in my book bag, I glance around the halls. Going to an all-boys Catholic high school has its setbacks. You surround yourself with raging teenage boys and testosterone practically seeps into the hallways. The mention of any girl or girl’s name will spark the interest of anyone within a ten-foot radius, so as soon as Gabe mentions his sister, all eyes are on me.

  I turn toward class. “I don’t know if I can make it. You know I’m—”

  Gabe gives me a stern look. “Don’t give me any excuses! Drop your plans for Saturday—well, I’m pretty sure you don’t have any, so that means you’re free. You WILL attend. I don’t care what chores you need to do at the bakery; just get them done before the party.”

  I surrender to the pressure. “All right all right! I’ll go to your stupid party. What time?”

  Gabe follows alongside me. “Be there around nine thirty.”

  I nod. “Okay now I NEED to get to class.”

  Gabe laughs and pats my back as he stalks off down the hall. “This weekend is going to be a blast!”

  I chuckle and walk inside the classroom. Sitting at my desk, I think about everything that needs to be done before Saturday. You’d think at seventeen years old, life would be a piece of cake, but it’s the opposite for me. With my older cousin, Franco, away at college and Uncle Vinny and Aunt Maggie running the bakery, a lot of the household chores fall unto me. I’m a regular customer at the local hardware store and the paint shop. But I’m not complaining; being busy helps pass the time. I don’t have time to sit still and dwell on the past.

  These past six years haven’t been easy for any of us. The death of my mother hit my uncle pretty hard, but we slowly managed to take it one step at a time and move on. I’m not saying that I’m over it, I just accept the fact that my parents are dead and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  I can’t help but remember my mother and see her in my daydreams. Her long dark wavy hair, her big brown eyes, and that gorgeous smile. She was so elegant, and she didn’t even know it. The way she composed herself with confidence and poise, I just loved that about her. Even after my father died, she never lost her spirit. She was always strong and grounded. I never saw her falter or blame anyone else for our troubles. She fought for what she believed in, and she strived to reach her goals.

  The shutting of the classroom door startles me from my daydreams as I blink away the memories. Opening my book to today’s lesson, I glance out the window and look at the blue sky. Are you watching over me? Are you with Dad? I miss you both.

  I WILL make you proud of me.

  I promise.

  ******

  On the way home from school my cell phone rings. I look at it and see a picture of Uncle Vinny blinking on the screen.

  I hit the green button and answer, “Hey, everything all right?”

  My uncle’s voice chimes through the phone, “Roman are you on your way home?”

  As the bus rolls up to the bus stop, I climb on and swipe my MetroPass
. “Yeah, I just got on the bus. I should be there within the hour.”

  “Okay, I have to head out for a bit. Can you please run the register at the bakery? Maggie will be there as well, but I don’t want to leave her alone.”

  I glance at my watch to see three thirty-five. “Yeah, I can do that. Do you need me to mark anything down? Any custom orders?”

  My uncle pauses as he thinks. “As a matter of fact, yes. There is a custom order for a dozen éclairs. Everything is already packed and labeled in the back fridge. The customer just needs to provide payment. You should have everything ready. Also, get the filling and toppings ready for the cheesecakes. I’ll bake them tomorrow morning.”

  I take my seat on the bus. “Okay sounds good. I’ll head straight there instead of going home first.”

  “Thanks, Roman. I’ll be back around seven or eight.”

  “You’re welcome. See you then.”

  After we hang up, I decide to take out my schoolbooks and complete my homework on the bus. Ten minutes pass and I look over my answers. The page is all scribble. I let out a deep sigh. New York City potholes for ya. I might as well finish at the bakery.

  Putting everything back into the book bag, I put my headphones on and listen to Hozier on the way home. His song “Take Me to Church” starts to play, and I can’t help but bounce my head to the beat. Looking around at the other bus passengers, mostly everyone has headphones on or is on their cell phone.

  In a city of over one million people, you’d be surprised how much we all ignore each other. No acknowledgments, no signals, no gestures. All I see is a flood of bodies moving in and out of sync with no sense of direction. Everyone is in their bubble, hiding behind the clouds of technology.

  As a child, I remember riding the bus with my parents, sitting on my father’s lap as the three of us talked about life: our plans to visit my uncle, to sightsee and visit The Empire State Building. My father would tell us plans for expanding his business. Mom would smile and look at him with complete admiration and awe. When they were alive, it felt like a different life, a different timeline. It’s still so weird not having them around.

  The bus approaches another stop and picks up a couple and their young daughter. After paying the transfer, the three of them sit across from me. I glance over and see the little girl fighting to sit on her father’s lap. A small smile creeps on my lips as I imagine myself doing the same thing with my dad. The little girl gets her way and snuggles up into him as he holds her close. He caresses her head and within minutes, she’s out cold. Happiness and peace radiate off her face and as I look at her, a pinch of jealousy courses through me. I would give anything to be with my folks again.

  Turning away, I stare back out at the city that never sleeps. The playlist on my phone continues to play as I rest my head back and wonder what life could have been like if my parents were still alive. What if there had been a cure for my father’s cancer? What if my mom had survived the fire?

  What would I be doing right now? Would I have met Gabe? Would I still be close with my aunt and uncle?

  Would I be happy?

  Roman

  WALKING INTO THE BAKERY, I holler, “Aunt Maggie, I’m here!”

  I hear a shuffling noise come from the back of the shop, then, “Roman is that you?”

  I drop my coat and backpack behind the counter and head into the back. I find her covered in baking powder with chocolate frosting on her apron and cheeks. Chuckling, I give her a kiss on the cheek and grab a paper towel to clean her up.

  She thanks me and smiles. “So, how was school today?”

  Walking toward the sink, I toss the towel in the trash and wash my hands. “It was good. Nothing unusual today. Oh, Gabe invited me to his house on Saturday.”

  My aunt claps her hands and yells, “Oh wonderful! It’s about time you get out of the house.”

  I dry my hands and tie an apron around my waist. “Yeah, at first I wasn’t going to go but I decided it’s time to start living. Besides, Gabe probably would kick my ass if I skipped out on him.”

  She laughs and continues frosting the cake. “He’s such a sweet boy. Make sure he visits and I’ll make a nice dinner.” She teases at me, “I can make your favorite.”

  I shake my head. “Aunt Maggie, you know I can’t resist your lasagna.”

  I take a look at the front, just to make sure no customers have arrived.

  “All right so what do you need help with today? Uncle Vinny said I had to watch the counter but is there anything you need me to do back here?”

  “Actually, can you grab that box on the top shelf? You know, your tiny aunt can’t reach anything.”

  I glance at the shelf she points at and chuckle. “That’s why you have me.”

  I walk over to the shelves and glance up. “Is it this one?”

  “Yes, but be careful, it’s very heavy. Don’t think that just because you’re over six feet tall you can manhandle everything.”

  I put my hands up. “Relax, I got this.”

  Reaching up, I grab the box labeled ‘flour’ and steady it as I slowly retrieve it and bring it down to the ground. Crap, this IS heavy.

  Laying it on the ground, I let out a deep breath. Aunt Maggie laughs. “See, I told you it was heavy!”

  “Heck yeah it was!”

  For the rest of the afternoon, I help her frost and decorate wedding cakes. Customers roll in and out of the bakery, ordering cookies, cheesecakes, bread, and pastries. In between helping her and watching for customers, I continue to work on my homework. Biology is not my strong suit; I’d rather be cleaning toilets than doing this crap.

  Leaning on the counter waiting for customers, I glance into the sugar cookie case. Hmm, which one?

  The three-layer cookie catches my eye, and I’ve decided. I grab a small wax paper, open the casing, and grab two cookies. Oh yeah! I close the case and devour the cookies in seconds. Mmm, so freaking delicious. I’d be in heaven if I could live off these babies. I’d eat them every day, all day.

  I hear a crash followed by a couple of cuss words from the back and rush to make sure Aunt Maggie is okay. As I enter, I see her frantically picking up metal mixing bowls off the floor. She glances up at me. “I’m such a hot mess today!”

  I smile as she pouts toward the floor and bend down to help her clean up. As we gather everything off the floor, I see some chocolate frosting inside one of the bowls. I lick my lips and swipe my finger along the inner rim. Aunt Maggie catches me licking it off my finger, so she swats my hand. “Roman! Don’t do that! What are you, five?”

  I burst into laughter. “Sorry, it’s so good though. I can’t help it!”

  “Well, don’t! What if a customer saw you?”

  “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”

  After we straighten the mess, she glances at the clock. “It’s almost eight o’clock already! I need to head home and start dinner. Roman can you please lock up at eight thirty?” She takes off her apron and washes up.

  “Yeah that’s fine. I just have to make the topping for the cheesecakes, so I’ll be home right after that.”

  She heads to the cakes to put them away, but I stop her. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll put everything away before I lock up.”

  She looks at me and smiles. “Thank you Roman. You’re such a good boy.”

  I return the smile and pull her into a hug. “Get home safe. Call me when you get there.”

  “I will. Be sure to put the cakes in the fridge and lock up the cookie cases.”

  She walks over to get her coat and I hear the front door open. I walk over to greet the customer and see my uncle walking inside.

  “Oh, Uncle Vinny, perfect timing!”

  My aunt enters from the back and gives my uncle a hug and a kiss. He zips up her coat. “All ready darling?”

  “Yes, I need to start dinner.”

  Uncle Vinny looks at me. “How’s the day been?”

  I shrug. “Not bad. It’s been a little slow today. Quiet really.”
<
br />   He glances outside. “Yeah, it’s probably the cold. You can go ahead and close up shop early tonight. Come on home son. It’s been a long day.”

  “I just have to finish the toppings and then I’ll head home.”

  “Okay, see you there.”

  They exit the bakery and disappear into the night. I head into the back to clean up my aunt’s mess. After it’s all cleaned, I take out my cell phone and start the Maroon 5 playlist. Raising the volume, I grab all the ingredients to start the toppings. I gather some strawberries, sugar, jelly, vanilla extract, and cornstarch to prepare the glaze.

  As Maroon 5 blasts through the speakers, I mix and cook the glaze, watching it simmer in the saucepan. I glance up at the time. It’s almost eight fifteen. I better start cleaning up.

  Once the glaze is heated, I pour it into some Tupperware and put it in the fridge to chill so it’ll be nice and solid in the morning. I walk toward the front of the bakery and turn off the lights in the cookie cases and cake refrigerators. Grabbing newspaper and the Windex, I scrub the glass counters and the mirrors. I lock all of the cases, wrap the remaining bread loaves, and cover the cookie displays. I can still hear Maroon 5 playing in the distance.

  Humming along to their latest chart topper, I get the broom to do a quick sweep around the bakery, gathering crumbs and dirt. Once the floors are cleaned, I turn toward the back to get the mop and bucket. As I’m filling it up with water and floor cleaner, I hear a soft female voice echo from the front.

  “Hello? Anyone here?”

  The voice startles me, and I realize I forgot to lock the door before I started cleaning. Crap!

  I yell toward the front, “Sorry we’re closed.”

  The voice begs, “But I’m here to pick up a custom order. Can I just pay and pick up since I’m here?”

  I remember the order Uncle Vinny told me about and decide to let her pay. “All right hold on, let me get it.”

  I shut off the water, put the bucket on the ground, and walk toward the refrigerator to grab the éclairs. I see the name Stevens marked on the box and pull it out.

  To verify the order, I call out, “What’s the name on the order?”