The calm of Saturday morning passes to noon. A tiny house begins to make noise. Slippers drag and slap against linoleum. It’s a enough to draw attention from another room. A robe, fuzzy half gathered, hovers across the floor. A streamer of smoke drifts like jet trail in beams of sunlight.
Cynthia groans at the coffeemaker. It roars back spitting out it’s dark fluid. The smell covers up the rest of the house. Although she seems oblivious to him, she senses Bobby. The eyes on the back of her head knows he has something to show her. Her mood lightens.
“Momma, I got your cup and sugar.” Bobby startles her a bit.
“Bobby, I didn’t hear the cabinet open. And I know you need the stool to get up there.” Cynthia looks to her right. A cup,spoon, and sugar jar rest beside her. They weren’t there a second ago. He can’t reach the cups. The rest of it, she would see him wouldn’t she?
Her mind races.
“Bobby, did you do that?” Cynthia talks really slow.
“Momma, did I get the right cup?” Bobby sounds withdrawn.
“Yeah, babe. I want to know how you did that. Can you show me again?” The wuss trial out slowly.
Before her a cabinet door opens. A coffee cup gently floats down and skies on counter. A spoon raise from a drawer to meet it.
Cynthia stares. Bobby giggles.