Page 8 of Serving my Dragon
“I doubt Pollita will get that big.”
“What kind of lizard is she?”
“I don’t know. I planned to do a search on the internet to see if I could find out. Once I know her type, it will give me a better idea of her diet and needs.” Thus far she’d been eating my food without issue, but I’d hate to be causing her any harm.
“Are you going to put her in a cage?”
“I doubt it.”
“Aren’t you worried she’ll poo and pee everywhere?”
I’d not thought about that, but come to think of it, Pollita hadn’t made a mess in my bag. What would happen once she got inside my house, though? “I don’t know. Maybe she can be newspaper trained.” It worked for puppies.
“Or you could try a litter box.”
Not a bad idea, actually.
“This is my place.” I pulled into the driveway of a stucco-covered house. Two floors, the exterior an off-white shade, the roof red clay tile.
“Oh, this is adorable,” Kayleigh gushed as she exited the car. “Do you live here by yourself?”
“Yes, much to my mother’s breaking heart.”
Kayleigh shot me a look over her shoulder. “Did you move far away?”
“Down the street.” I pointed. “Mama has that pink house close to the corner.”
My companion’s mouth rounded before she giggled. “Oh my god, you’re a mama’s boy.”
Denial sat on the tip of my tongue and heat filled my cheeks at her amusement. However, I refused to be ashamed. “I’m very close to my mother. As an only child, when Papa died, my mother focused all of her attention on me.”
“I didn’t mean it as a bad thing!” Kayleigh exclaimed. “I used to be a daddy’s girl. I got away with everything growing up, much to my mom’s annoyance. Not to say she didn’t adore me, too, but she was always after my dad to not spoil me so much.” A dimple formed in her cheek. “Thank god he didn’t listen.”
“Used to be?” I caught the past tense.
Her lips turned down. “They died a few years ago. Mom went first. Breast cancer, and poor dad didn’t have the heart to keep going without her.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” I didn’t know what else to say.
Kayleigh shook her head. “It’s okay. My mom always taught me to look for the positive in the world because life’s too short to dwell on the ugly.”
“A good philosophy to have.”
“I guess. It drives Sally nuts that I always try to see the glass half full.” She giggled. Again. It should have annoyed.
It didn’t.
I unlocked the front door and let her inside where she proceeded to ooh and aah over just about everything. The rag rug my aunt knotted for me: divine. The pottery scattered around the place courtesy of cousin, Sophia: exquisite. My furniture, heavy wooden pieces that came from the factory my father and uncle worked in? Quality stuff, unlike the pressboard furniture most places back home sold, according to Kayleigh.
Everything delighted Kayleigh except for my kitchen. She stared at it, blinked, then looked at me. “You can’t tell me you cook in here?”
The simple galley kitchen had the basics. Stove, rarely used. Fridge, usually holding a container or two of food for me to reheat in case I couldn’t make it to Mama’s for dinner. The tile counter holding my sink had a curtain to hide the shelves with dishes underneath. My bookshelf pantry had a few boxes and bags of snacks.
“I don’t cook,” I admitted sheepishly. “Between Mama and my aunts and cousins, I always have a meal.” Not to mention the few times I attempted to make a meal on my own not only ended in disaster but led to my mother wailing I didn’t love her.
“Hmm. I do like a cooking challenge,” Kayleigh murmured. “But even I need some ingredients to cook with. You don’t even have eggs.”
“I can get some from the bodega up the street,” I offered. Then added, “Why don’t you have a shower and freshen up while I grab a few things.”
