A Kiss for Maya

Monday Mornings

"There's a taste here in my mouth
That tastes like Monday morning"
   ~Lee Hazlewood, If It's Monday Morning

Monday morning. Why weekend, why? Did you really have to go?

"Maya!" My dad calls from downstairs.

I grab my backpack from my bed and run down the stairs.

"Morning, dad." I give him a kiss on the cheek and sit down on the middle bar stool.

"Morning, honey." He says and places a plate of toasted bread and fried eggs along with a glass of orange juice in front of me.

I thank him and begin to cut into one of the slices of toast. He puts a small bowl of mixed fruit next to my plate and grins at me before taking a sip of his cup of coffee. If there's one thing my dad loves in the morning, it's his coffee.

I'm not even allowed to drink coffee. Dad let's me have it from time to time but mom is completely against it. I can't even remember what it tastes like.

"How've you been?" Dad asks with a sympathetic smile.

That tells me that he's referring to Lilly.

"Pretty fine," I look up at him, "I miss her a lot but Bee and Shelly are always here for me. They think if they always have me occupied, I won't miss her so much."

"They're good friends." Dad replies with a smile.

"I can cut down my work hours to come home early, that way you won't always be alone." Another sympathetic smile accompanies the offer.

"Dad, no way." I take a sip of the orange liquid. "How am I going to spend time with you knowing that you should be out there making sure cute little babies or kids are alright?"

"Is my cute little baby alright?"

I roll my eyes at his choice of words and laugh.

"Yeah, dad, she is."

"Did you make your lunch?" He asks.

"Yup, I did." I point to the blue container at the corner of the counter.

I'm one of the few juniors that still brings a lunchbox. Those died in like, middle school? I don't know.

What I do know is that the cafeteria lines are too long and the food isn't even worth it.

The loud noise of a car hooter brings me out of my thoughts. I look up, my eyes widening as I recall everything.

Mason!

"Who's that?" Dad inquires, walking out of the kitchen.

I quickly put my plate, bowl and glass in the sink and take my lunchbox.

"I think it's Mason." I follow him out the kitchen.

"Oh, yeah, your mother did mention it that he'll be your new lift." There's a smile on his face.

"Yeah," I roll my eyes, "dad, could you please give me a ride?"

"I can't, May." He gives me yet another sympathetic smile.

"But, dad." I whine.

"What's wrong with going to school with Mason?"

Everything.

Another honk and I start to panic.

"Dad, please." I beg.

"Let's say I take you today, what about tomorrow?"