“Stop crying, Hayley.” I walked over and scooped her into my arms. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
“Johnnie?” She looked up at me in tears. “You left me...”
“I’m sorry.” I patted her on the back. “I had to go to school, but I’m here now.”
“But you go to school every day...Why?”
I sighed and held her close, consoling her until she stopped sobbing. I looked behind me and noticed that she hadn’t wet the bed today—a good thing because I hadn’t stolen any quarters this week and I didn’t feel like walking to the Laundromat in the rain.
When I was sure she was okay, I rummaged through my backpack and pulled out what I’d saved from my school lunch: Two apples, smashed macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, and a turkey sandwich—practically a gourmet meal for us.
“I got you something special today.” I handed her the last Ziploc bag—something I’d stolen from my math teacher, and she squealed and emptied it onto the bed.
“Strawberries!” She grabbed a handful and stuffed them into her mouth.
“Slow down. One at a time before you choke.” I waited until she withdrew three of them from her jaw. “Did you watch anything good on TV today?”
“Sesame Street...But I’seen it before. I knew all the songs! Cookie Monster played the drums!”
“That sounds great. Which song was your fav—”
“Thank f**k you got her to shut up!” My father barged into the room. “That girl isn’t going to have a voice by the time she’s ten if she keeps crying like that. Have you seen my car keys?”
“They’re on the TV out there.”
“Right. Well, me and your mom are going out to get some pizza.”
“Pizza?” Hayley’s eyes lit up and she clapped. “Pizza!”
He nodded and bent down to pinch her cheek. “What type of pizza do you want, Hales?”
“Pepperoni! And cheese!”
“Okay. That’s exactly what we’ll get. Jonathan, what type do you want?”
I didn’t answer. I just shook my head.
“Okay, well I hope you like pepperoni and cheese because that’s what Hayley wants and that’s what we’re getting.”
“Ooohhh!” Hayley was still clapping. “I can’t wait! I can’t wait! Can I come with you and mommy, daddy? Can I help pick up the pizza? Please?”
His thin smile faded and he patted her head. “Next time, babe. Okay?”
“Okay...” She seemed saddened, but then she looked up at me and whispered, “We’re getting pizza!”
My dad left the room and Hayley followed him into the living room. She stretched her arms up in the air—waiting for our mother to give her a hug, but she simply looked down at her and said, “We’ll be back, Hayley.”
And with that, they left and slammed the door to our trailer on their way out.
Sighing, I went back into our room and picked up the Ziploc bags, placing them into the refrigerator. I knew they would come in handy later tonight.
“I love pizza, Johnnie. Don’t you?” Hayley sat on the couch and looked out the window. “It’s my favorite!”
I shook my head and pulled out my homework, looking up every fifteen minutes or so—watching Hayley stare out the window in anticipation of a pizza that was never coming.
After three hours of waiting, she eventually fell asleep. I wanted to carry her back into our room and tuck her into bed, but I didn’t want her to wake up hungry.
“Hayley?” I shook her shoulder. “Hayley, wake up.”
“Did the pizza come?” she murmured.
“No...It didn’t. You need to eat something before bed.” I handed her a plate of microwaved mashed potatoes and macaroni. “Here.”
She scrunched her face and shook her head. “I don’t want it.”
“Now, Hayley. Eat.”
Frowning, she picked up the fork and took small, slow bites. When she finished, she walked over to where I was sitting and grabbed the bright pink sheet I’d given to my mother hours ago.
“E-e-e-meh-meh-oh-oh-reh-yuh. P—re-s-c-ool. Emehreeyuh Puhreyscool?” She looked up at me.
“Emory preschool.”
“E-mor-y pre-school.” She repeated and her eyes lit up. “I’m going to pre-school, Johnnie?! I’ll read really really good if I get to go!”
“We’ll see...”
“That means yes!” She jumped up and hugged me. “Oh, I can’t wait! I can’t wait!”
I forced a smile and decided to change the subject. I didn’t want to get her hopes up.
“Let’s watch a movie, Hayley.” I reached for her hand. “Which one do you want to watch?”
“Cinderella!”
“Okay.” I walked her back into our room and tucked her underneath the covers. Then I hooked up the VHS player and put in the movie, waiting for her to fall asleep.
She sang along to every song, encouraging me to sing along as well, and since I knew all the words from the millions of times we’d watched it before, I tried not to sound too terrible.
As the evil stepmother locked Cinderella away in the attic, she rolled over to face me. “I got a question, Johnnie...”
“What is it?”
“Are you my gwardan?”
“Your what?”