Vignettes — #21
Yvette
Yvette opens the door and steps aside for Moses to enter. “I told you it wasn’t far. I love the walk.”
“Yes, it was pleasant. I like this time of day.”
Yvette points at the lounge room, just visible from the entry hall. “Please.”
Moses proceeds in the direction indicated and then stops when something crunches under his shoe. He lifts his foot and looks down at a crumbled biscuit.
“Sorry,” Yvette says. “Monique can be messy.”
Moses walks on into the comfortable room and makes his way towards a couch, skirting toys on the way. “Is Monique the ‘someone important’ in your life you mentioned at the café?”
Yvette nods. “She’s five. She’s with my mother for the night.”
“And … umm … is her father around?”
“He died when she was one. Motorcycle.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I’m prying again.”
“That’s okay. Not that he’s dead. I mean that you’re asking. I wasn’t exactly forthcoming this afternoon … at the café.”
“Yeah, well … I keep myself to my own counsel most of the time. And before you have to ask, my wife, Angela, died ten years ago from an aggressive cancer.”
