Crusts For Breakfast

Mornings are a whirlwind at the Reynolds’. With one hand Mrs. Reynolds adds a splash of cream into a well-worn thermos producing the perfect beige coffee. With the other hand she scrapes around the edges of melt-in-your-mouth, fluffy scrambled eggs. Like a well-oiled machine she moves the eggs off the burner, grabs a plate from the above cabinet, and plucks up the freshly popped toast. Half the eggs get shuffled onto a pink plastic plate with some fresh cut strawberries. The other half gets hugged between the two slices of toast with cheese and sriracha mayo for an on-the-go breakfast sandwich.

Just in time Mr. Reynolds pops out of the bedroom, his tie hanging loosely untied on either side of his neck. “You didn’t wake me.” He said, grabbing his jacket and thermos. “Oh, I was wondering when you were getting up. Your alarm woke me so early, I didn’t even think you’d still be asleep.” She replied, packing his work bag with the breakfast and lunch he’d become so accustomed to. “Well, I’ve got to go or I’ll be late.” He replied, grabbing his bag and leaning in for a kiss. After a quick peck he was rushing towards the door. “Wait! Pete! Did you forget? You’re dropping Leah off today.” Mr. Reynolds paused at the door, “Oh shoot! Since when?” Mrs. Reynolds shuffled little Leah with her pigtail braids and bright orange socks towards the door. Her backpack was pink glitter colored and rattled with key chains. “Since always? You know I have a meeting today.” Mr. Reynolds looked back and forth between Leah and the sweet freedom just beyond the doorway. “Are you sure you can’t take her? Is the car seat even in my car?” Mrs. Reynolds nodded, “I set up the car seat for you this morning, it’s ready to go. No, I can’t take her.” Realizing he can’t wiggle out of it, Mr. Reynolds bends down and with a tight smile ushers Leah to the car. “How exciting Leah! Daddy’s going to drive you to school today. Car’s unlocked Pumpkin, why don’t you go ahead and get in?” Leah nodded, the quiet girl that she was, and clamored on toward the car. “Make sure to check her seatbelts, she’s not always good at doing them herself.” Mrs. Reynolds reminded Mr. Reynolds after Leah was out of earshot. “You worry too much, I’ve got it. Which, speaking of which, this is good– I can get some Dad time in today. I have a thing after work I need to go to for a friend. So, I won’t be home until late and there will probably be drinking.” Mrs. Reynolds frowns, “that’s so last minute. When were you going to tell me?” Mr. Reynolds is already heading out the door, “this morning! I’m sorry I woke up late, I have to go!” And then he was gone.

Mrs. Reynolds watched out the window as Mr. Reynolds gets in and speeds off, without checking Leah’s car seat. Hand pinching her eyebrows, she takes a breath. Back in the kitchen she sits down for one of her only breaks of the day. At the breakfast table she parks herself in front of a bright pink plate and finishes the food that Leah didn’t. She eats the bits of cold egg and the rejected crusts and lets her vision blur as she enjoys a moment just to herself.

When Jackie cries, her body gets up even before her eyes come back into focus. “Hey sweet girl, good morning.” She coos picking up her screaming baby. Swaying back and forth she calms the child. “It’s ok sweet girl. It’s ok. The morning has just begun, sweet girl.” She swaggers her way to the changing table and sets the quieting baby down. “I know it’s scary. I know the new day seems hard. But I see you growing every day, sweet girl. You’re getting so big and so strong. Mommy will always be here, sweet girl.” Mrs. Reynolds cleans her daughter up and moves on to prep a bottle. Baby Jackie watches from her seat on Mrs. Reynolds’ left hip.

When the bottle is ready the baby greedily begins to drink and instantly relaxes. Still swaying, out of rhythm or habit, Mrs. Reynolds whispers to her youngest girl. “Two perfect baby girls. I love you both so much.” With one finger she strokes Jackie’s plump little cheeks. “I love you so much, I learned to love myself.” She hugs the little girl close. “Can I tell you a secret, Jackie?” Big brown eyes look at her in response. “Today is the last time I’m eating crusts for breakfast, Jackie.” The brown eyes blinked in question. “I have two little girls and my heart would break for them if they were treated the way I am. Today, I meet with the divorce attorney, Jackie. Today Mommy leaves Daddy.” Tears bubbled at the corners of Mrs. Reynolds’ eyes. “I need you to know there’s more than this.” Jackie watched, still rhythmically sucking down milk. “Your mommy is a smart woman, did you know that?” Mrs. Reynolds sniffled. “I didn't get straight A’s in college. Mostly A’s and B’s, but I loved it.” Mrs. Reynolds wiped her nose and a stray tear. “And I love being your mom too! But, I’m more than Mrs. Reynolds. I want to be a person again, Jackie. I want to be Sylvie again.” At this point Sylvie let her gaze soften, the movement of feeding a matter of mindless muscle memory. She talked at the wall, “I know your daddy loves you very much, you know. But he made me Mrs. Reynolds. Not Sylvie Reynolds, Mrs. Reynolds. I don’t think he even sees me as a person anymore, Jackie.” Snapping out of it for a moment Mrs. Reynolds stares back down to a now near sleeping Jackie. “That was a terrible thing for me to say.” Sylvie sighs, “but it is true.”

“In all senses of the word, I am the do-it-all woman. I have a job, I have a husband, I have children. I keep my home clean and my family fed and my paychecks roll in just like his do. And without a doubt, I can say it’s not possible. My body is broken; my mind is gone; I have lost everything that made me a unique and interesting person.” Little Jackie murmured softly in her sleep, comforted by the voice of her mother. “I am everything I did not ever want to be. I’m a married single mother.” The tears came flowing now. “I’m so ashamed, Jackie. I’m so ashamed that after all the time I spent vetting and making sure Daddy was the one, I ended up here. Like his mother taking care of him, and your sister, and you. I hold his hand through all our disagreements. I take the brunt of his irresponsibility. I own the consequences of all his actions. He tricked me. I feel so tricked.”

Sylvie sobbed quietly, as she often did, in order to not wake the baby.