Bread
“But the house?”“I’ll discuss it with Queenie we’ll work something out,” I honestly don’t know what we’re going to do with the house, or if Queenie will even let me go, but I can’t let Newt in on my insecurities, his smile is too precious.
“Ok, if you’re sure,” his eyes ask me for reassurance, seeing straight through me, knowing I really don’t know how this’ll end.
“I’m sure,” I reach up and stroke my neck, tiredness finally finding its way into my mind. “What do you want for dinner?” I ask.
“Oh don’t you worry about me, I’ll eat in the morning,” his voice is almost a whisper.
“I don’t know… I understand that you need sleep but I don’t want you going to sleep on an empty stomach,” my eyebrow raises, showing him that he’s going to eat whether he likes it or not.
“Some bread would be nice,”
“That’s more like it,”
I walk into the kitchen, noticing quickly that Queenie’s rearranged everything yet again. Where’s the bread? I turn to where it used to be, seeing it’s been replaced by a bag of rice.
“Not there…” then to where it was before that, seeing that’s been replaced by a few knives, scattered across the bench.
“Tina?” Newt’s voice vibrates through from the sitting room and into the kitchen.
“Just a minute!” finally my eyes lock onto the bread compartment. On top of the fridge, of course. I jump up and grab a loaf, praying that the whole thing doesn’t topple on top of me. I walk out to Newt, who’s now sitting on the couch, his arms on his knees and his back hunched over.
“Thanks,” he says, taking the bread from me and taking a few bites. At that very moment Queenie walks through the front door.
“Oh it’s so nice to come home to you two!” she exclaims. With those words guilt immediately sets in. She’ll figure it out in about two seconds, with that mind reading of hers. “Oh.” She chokes out. She won’t be coming home to us soon.
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