Losing Romeo by A.J. Byrd

pass it off with a nod and a polite smile.
    â€œCare to join me?” she asks, loudly.
    Every man’s head swivels in my direction. “Don’t mind if I do.” I climb back off of my stool and catch my waitress’s attention. “I’m moving over to the corner booth.” By the time I slide into the empty space across from Deborah, I have to admit that I’m a bundle of nerves. “I didn’t know that you like to hang out at the Waffle House.”
    â€œI don’t,” she admits. “But I just needed to get out of that apartment for a while. I was beginning to think that the walls were closing in on me, you know?”
    I bob my head while picking up the scent of vanilla clinging to her skin. “I know exactly what you mean.”
    We fall into a comfortable silence, and I think her thoughts drift for a moment. When her gaze finds mine again, I think she just then remembers that I’m even sitting there.
    â€œSo how’s the whole single-father thing going for you?”
    I shake my head while my frustrations with my daughter start inching my blood pressure up a few notches. “I think the safe answer is ‘I’m still standing.’”
    â€œGood.” She flashes me that beautiful smile. “That makes two of us.”
    â€œThen things aren’t going too well?” I inquire.
    Deborah’s warm, coffee-colored eyes drift off again. “It’s just a lot harder than I anticipated. I mean I knew that it would be hard, you know. Taking care of a thirteen- and a nine-year-old is not for the faint of heart. I’m not naive.I used to be those ages, but—” She starts shaking her head again. “It just feels like no matter what I do, it’s never quite enough. Those girls have no idea what it’s like to work to pay the bills. But working double shifts means sleeping when they’re awake and working when they’re sleeping. And the few times that I do manage to be conscious, I’m so bone tired and frustrated, and I just feel so—”
    â€œUnappreciated?”
    Her smile stretches wider, and two dimples wink at me. “You do understand.”
    â€œMore than you’ll ever know.”
    She nods, but her smile is fading fast. “I don’t know if I’m doing such a hot job. I snap when I don’t mean to and say things that I don’t mean and I’ve done some things that I regret.”
    â€œHmm.”
    â€œHmm, what?”
    â€œHmm. I’m starting to think that you have my apartment bugged.”
    She laughs, and I’m enjoying its rich sound. I take a few seconds to drink in her strong profile: her small, heart-shaped face, her long hair and those mesmerizing lips. She doesn’t have on that much makeup from what I can tell, and she’s still just as gorgeous as the few times I’ve seen her leaving for work all decked out.
    Suddenly, I start wondering if she has a boyfriend. A while back I’d asked her out for pizza, but I don’t know whether she considered it a serious offer. Looking at her, I can’t see how she wouldn’t have a boyfriend. Still, I’venever seen any guys hanging around or her bringing anyone home—then again, I’m not always around myself.
    â€œMy mother lost her appeal today,” she says.
    The change in topic throws me off guard a bit. “I’m sorry to hear that.” I watch so many emotions ripple across her face, all of them slowly breaking my heart.
    She sniffs and wipes away a tear. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” she admits, reaching for her coffee. “Sometimes I think that Kierra and McKenya would have been better off if they had been placed in foster care.”
    â€œYou don’t mean that,” I tell her.
    Silence.
    I draw in a deep breath. “Are things that bad?”
    Her eyes fill with more tears. “I’m not good with children,” she says.