Never Alone

“Avory,” the folded paper reads. As they unfold it, the note shakes with their hands. As they read, the words blur together until the page is just one large inkspot. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” They crumple the paper in their fists, squeezing it until it is just a small ball, then huck it at the wall. It passes the window, where sunlight is just beginning to pour in, and lands in the darkest corner of the bedroom. The bedroom that used to be shared. 

“There’s just no fixing it.” They sniff. Wipe the tears from their cheeks. Move to the closet to begin their day. The accordion door nearly topples as it is shoved open, and they pause. Half the contents are missing. Not even a hanger or loose sock is left. They pull free their outfit of the day, then close the accordion door. 

“This may seem sudden to you, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” Even the bathroom is half empty. One toothbrush in the holder, one stick of deodorant, two empty drawers. The medicine cabinet holds only vitamins for one now. Even the mirror looks bare, completely devoid of all the notes that had been left over the years. They get dressed, comb their hair, brush their teeth, and keep their eyes on the freshly-cleaned sink. 

“We should’ve known this never would have worked.” The hall to the kitchen is the same, the photos all neat in the frames, staring at them, mocking them, as they go by. The notes on the coffee pot are gone. Perfectly clean squares in the dust are the only hint of them ever being there. Grounds are poured into the top, a button is pressed, the pot begins to whir. 

“Remember what my mother said?” The orange tabby winds around their legs, looking up and mewing. His dry food pellets are poured into a dish and set on the floor by the back door. A frying pan is retrieved from under the counter, and the fridge is opened. Their hand reaches for the soy milk that is no longer there. It falters, then shifts over to the carton of eggs.

“I’ve known you my entire life, so believe me when I say this wasn’t an easy decision.” The coffee pot bubbles twice more, then falls silent. They pull two mugs from the cupboard, stare at them for several  moments, then return one to the shelf. Sugar and cream are dumped into the single mug, then hastily covered by the freshly brewed coffee. They take several sips of the scalding liquid, reveling in the sweet taste. 

“I feel like we could do so much better apart.” Eggs are cracked into the frying pan, and bread is inserted into the toaster. The tabby jumps onto the counter, whiskers twitching as he nears the hot stove. He is not removed. A cooked piece of egg is flicked off the spatula in his direction. He chases it across the counter. Three plates are taken down from the cabinet. One is put back. The china plate with blue roses around the edge receives two fried eggs and two slices of toast. The square plate made of green plastic gets one egg and a slice of toast with peanut butter and no crust. 

“Please tell Molly I love her.” The coffee in the mug is half gone, and a cup of orange juice is placed with the plate on the dining table. A kiss is pressed to the forehead of the sleepy five-year old, who got dressed all by herself this morning. She pets the cat, who sits at her feet begging for more eggs. She talks about the dreams she had and what tricks she’d like to teach the cat. She has preschool in the afternoon, but the morning is theirs. Breakfast is their routine, just for the two of them. She’s used to her other parent being there by bedtime, and doesn’t ask about the absence. She sneaks bites of toast to the tabby, but she isn’t very secretive. Her giggles give her away. 

“Please don’t try to contact me directly.” Once the plates are empty, they do the dishes together. It’s more like war of the bubbles, but everything gets cleaned. Later they’ll work together to pack her snack and prepare her backpack. They move to the living room, the cat’s back legs dangling from the girl’s arms. This is part of the routine, too. It wouldn’t be a normal day without cartoons teaching the two of them how to read. During a commercial break, where a pair of siblings are shown playing on a swing set, the girl mentions wanting a little brother. She gets a smile and a ruffle of her curls in return, before she is reminded how much the tabby loves his catnip toy being thrown. 

“Please don’t do anything reckless.” Driving to the preschool is second-nature. 45 miles per hour, two stop signs, one traffic light. They say goodbye at the classroom door, and she’s gone for the next four hours. They’re supposed to run errands next. It’s routine. The highway is empty this time of day, everyone at work or school. Nobody minds when they pull over to the side of the road. The car idles, exhaust fumes still spewing from the tailpipe. A cardboard box with the word ‘sorry’ scrawled on its side is in the ditch. Normally they wouldn’t have stopped. Normally they would have stayed in their car. The box holds two scrawny kittens and a bag of cat food. Their fur is sticking up every which way. The kittens seem grateful in the heated car, and one of them finds its way to the dashboard. It watches the highway zooming past them.

“You should try to carry on as normal as possible.” She names them after her favorite book characters. They each officially have about four names total. Grass and Pebble are what she calls them when she forgets. The tabby is reproachful at first, but the kittens teach him their games. All three nap together on the sofa. The girl draws a mural on the wall while waiting for dinner. It gets taped off like a masterpiece in a museum.  

“Remember that I will always love you,” The girl asks questions over a dinner of macaroni and cheese, eaten with dinosaur spoons. She doesn’t wonder why it’s just the two of them. Often it is the case. She wonders why she can’t have red juice in a grown-up glass, why she can’t bring her brand-new toys to the dinner table. In answer, she gets her own glass of grape juice, her Barbie doll and He-Man figure can have their own plate, and she gets two scoops of ice cream. 

They smile at the girl, one full of fondness and love, and anything else they can think of. No matter how lonely they feel now, they will always have her to keep them company.