keeping the roof over their head,” she explains and I realize this is the choice she was talking about the last time I was here.
“Isn’t there a soup kitchen or food bank around here?” I ask.
“Yeah but we prefer to let the more unfortunate people eat. We have a roof over our heads, which is more than could be said for others. They need the food more. Besides, we’re kind of our own little community in here and we help each other out. We’re all in the same boat after all,” she says and for some unknown reason, it makes a hell of a lot of sense.
“So, how many people are we cooking for?”
“A hundred and two people live in the building,” she says and my mouth drops open.
“This will never feed them all,” I gasp.
“Not everyone will need it, so don’t worry.”
At that moment, Rita comes in without knocking. “Seventy-two portions.”
I put the bread mix on the counter and head for the door. “Where are you going?” SJ calls after me.
“Don’t start without me. I’ll be back in a minute,” I say and head out the door. I park the car and head into the nearest superstore, going straight to the meat counter. “Can I help you sir?”
“I’m feeding seventy-two people from a tiny kitchenette in about an hour, I need your help,” I say to the pimply-faced teenager behind the counter. The poor boy looks like I just asked him the million dollar question.
“Umm... maybe sausage and mash?” he suggests.
“That’s a really good idea, easy to make and hard to fuck up,” I say while trying to do the math in my head. Seventy-two people, having three sausages each equals two hundred and sixteen. “I need two hundred and thirty sausages, please.”
“I’ve got to go out back and get them, give me a minute,” he says. When he comes back, he’s bagged them up and hands them to me.
“Thank you,” I say and go in search of potatoes. By the time I’ve found the stock to make gravy, I’m regretting not grabbing a cart. I pay and rush back to SJ’s, almost dropping everything as I walk into her apartment.
“What’s all that?” she asks, completely stunned.
“Sausages,” I state.
“I can see that,” she says before furrowing her brow. “Why do you have sausages?”
“That beef wouldn’t have fed seventy-two people,” I answer. “I’ve got potatoes too, for mashed potatoes.”
“You didn’t need to do that,” she says quietly and looks at Rita.
“What do you want in return?” Rita asks, the suspicious tone is back in her voice.
“Nothing,” I reply.
“Nothing is ever free, there is always a price to pay,” she says to me. She has a faraway look in here eyes, it seems more like she’s remembering something and speaking from experience.
“I don’t want anything in return. SJ mentioned that some of the residents forgo eating so they can pay their rent next week,” I explain. “That beef wouldn’t have fed more than ten of you, not a proper sized meal anyway.”
“Thank you Caleb,” SJ says as she picks up the sausages but something has shifted and she won’t meet my eye.
“I’ll leave you to it,” I say and head toward the door.
SJ sees me out but still hasn’t raised her eyes to meet mine. “Have you thought anymore about going out with me Saturday?”
“I won’t be able to let you know until Saturday,” she replies, still looking at the floor.
I place two fingers under her chin, lifting her head up. “Look at me please?” Her eyes finally lock on mine, but I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. Shame, embarrassment, uncertainty, anger, and sadness. I can’t help it, it happens before I realize. My head lowers to hers as I gently brush my lips across hers. I feel her quick breaths on my lips and it spurs me on. I lean in and capture her mouth, my tongue seeking entry into the warmth of hers. A cough from behind us pulls me back. I look up to see Rita glaring at me from the kitchen.
“I told you nothing was free, everything has a price.”
“Isn’t there a soup kitchen or food bank around here?” I ask.
“Yeah but we prefer to let the more unfortunate people eat. We have a roof over our heads, which is more than could be said for others. They need the food more. Besides, we’re kind of our own little community in here and we help each other out. We’re all in the same boat after all,” she says and for some unknown reason, it makes a hell of a lot of sense.
“So, how many people are we cooking for?”
“A hundred and two people live in the building,” she says and my mouth drops open.
“This will never feed them all,” I gasp.
“Not everyone will need it, so don’t worry.”
At that moment, Rita comes in without knocking. “Seventy-two portions.”
I put the bread mix on the counter and head for the door. “Where are you going?” SJ calls after me.
“Don’t start without me. I’ll be back in a minute,” I say and head out the door. I park the car and head into the nearest superstore, going straight to the meat counter. “Can I help you sir?”
“I’m feeding seventy-two people from a tiny kitchenette in about an hour, I need your help,” I say to the pimply-faced teenager behind the counter. The poor boy looks like I just asked him the million dollar question.
“Umm... maybe sausage and mash?” he suggests.
“That’s a really good idea, easy to make and hard to fuck up,” I say while trying to do the math in my head. Seventy-two people, having three sausages each equals two hundred and sixteen. “I need two hundred and thirty sausages, please.”
“I’ve got to go out back and get them, give me a minute,” he says. When he comes back, he’s bagged them up and hands them to me.
“Thank you,” I say and go in search of potatoes. By the time I’ve found the stock to make gravy, I’m regretting not grabbing a cart. I pay and rush back to SJ’s, almost dropping everything as I walk into her apartment.
“What’s all that?” she asks, completely stunned.
“Sausages,” I state.
“I can see that,” she says before furrowing her brow. “Why do you have sausages?”
“That beef wouldn’t have fed seventy-two people,” I answer. “I’ve got potatoes too, for mashed potatoes.”
“You didn’t need to do that,” she says quietly and looks at Rita.
“What do you want in return?” Rita asks, the suspicious tone is back in her voice.
“Nothing,” I reply.
“Nothing is ever free, there is always a price to pay,” she says to me. She has a faraway look in here eyes, it seems more like she’s remembering something and speaking from experience.
“I don’t want anything in return. SJ mentioned that some of the residents forgo eating so they can pay their rent next week,” I explain. “That beef wouldn’t have fed more than ten of you, not a proper sized meal anyway.”
“Thank you Caleb,” SJ says as she picks up the sausages but something has shifted and she won’t meet my eye.
“I’ll leave you to it,” I say and head toward the door.
SJ sees me out but still hasn’t raised her eyes to meet mine. “Have you thought anymore about going out with me Saturday?”
“I won’t be able to let you know until Saturday,” she replies, still looking at the floor.
I place two fingers under her chin, lifting her head up. “Look at me please?” Her eyes finally lock on mine, but I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. Shame, embarrassment, uncertainty, anger, and sadness. I can’t help it, it happens before I realize. My head lowers to hers as I gently brush my lips across hers. I feel her quick breaths on my lips and it spurs me on. I lean in and capture her mouth, my tongue seeking entry into the warmth of hers. A cough from behind us pulls me back. I look up to see Rita glaring at me from the kitchen.
“I told you nothing was free, everything has a price.”
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