Breakfast

"This was the look of the sky when Sophie opened her eyes to the new day."

Her camera was close-by, she pulled it off the glass-topped table, careful to untangle plump limbs replacing the faded and still favored quilt. Lei'ohu and the Old Man were outside. Kikepa snuggled deeper into the pillow her long-fringe of lashes opened briefly. "Morning, Tutu." Sophie kissed the girl on her forehead. "Morning, 'Kepa." This one loved the linger of dreams, and now was prime dream time for that sort of thing -- when no one else occupied the bed-- and the day was yet to become real.

There was coffee, and a note on the counter top next to three brown eggs. The Old Man's open scrawl said, "We vote for pancakes." Two hearts and smooch marks were drawn in pink crayon. This was the look of the sky when Sophie opened her eyes to the new day. She focused, making sure the treetops filled the bottom of the frame, then clicked. Within the hour the sky was a blanket of solid cover, no blue, no puffy clouds. The old woman set her camera down, reached for her favorite Blue Willow cup and saucer and poured herself a cup of coffee. She liked almond milk, and a teaspoon of raw sugar. She found the carton of milk, and lifted the lid to the mottled porcelain sugar bowl. After years of wear and at least a couple patches the small lid was more patch than lid, but, it still worked to bring pleasure to the morning. It was her mother's sugar bowl. Sophie loved having her coffee with her Ma.

The coffee was dark and strong like they both preferred. The milk and sugar made it a decadent morning brew. Thoughts of coffee, canned evaporated milk, Saloon Pilot Crackers with margarine floating in big chunks. Who used butter in those days? Early morning. Breakfast with her dad. The bull dozer man. Between the daddy who drank till he forgot, and the one who sat at the Formica table. This one. The sugar was C & C white. She was the same age as Lei'ohu and Kikepa. Only two, maybe three, tears seeped from her eyes.

"It won't change the taste of the coffee," from the window between the cupboard and vintage Philco V Handle refrigerator (kept in tiptop shape by the Old Man) the Anna hovered. Of all the windows in the house, this small one gave the tiny bird a beautiful view of the still-bright red refrigerator. Color mattered. It, the refrigerator, maintained her inimitable hum that was particularly delightful if you were one to notice. Everyone in this household noticed, and so it was not surprising this window collected more smudges than any other.

"You're probably right," The long silence between the comment and her reply included a nod to the hummingbird.

"How many more tears are in me?" Sophie walked the short distance between the counter and window.

"Sophie Lei Maku'e, tears lubricate the heart."

That made the old woman smile, "I didn't know that."

~*~

'What, Tutu? What did you not know?" Kikepa sat cross-legged beneath the yellow cotton quilt her eyes bright and ready for this day. 

"Tears lubricate the heart." 

"What does lubricate mean? 

Sophie laughed, and leaned into the window leaving the first smudge of the day. "Good question. Why don't you help me make pancakes and I'll show you what lubricate means." 

"Pancakes!" Lei'ohu climbed from the big bed and in her bare feet crossed the room to grab her grandmother. "Who were you talking to, Tutu?"

"Someone very special. Someone who can't wait to meet you!"

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