LOVE IN THE BAKING

LITTLE DADDY

"Ms. Chiroma."

"It's Olamide."

"Pardon?"

"I said my name is Olamide. Chiroma is my ex-husband's name, and he isn't here. So it's Ola-Mi-De. Thandie broke down the word. She wasn't in the mood for a mispronunciation.

Her husband was gone. She didn't want people to associate Moses and her in any way.

The principal nodded in acknowledgment and pursued, "We do not tolerate fighting in our establishment. Royal used to be an excellent pupil, and lately, he doesn't seem to be sitting well on his plate. Is everything alright at home?"

Thandie's ears picked up everything the headmistress had said up to that point. Her brow began to throb with anger, not directed at her son but at the woman who alluded to some vague issue in her foyer.

Naturally, the headmistress prepared for a tearful confession about her divorce and the difficulties of raising four children. Thandie mentally rolled her eyes as she interpreted the headmistress's expression. She then turned to her son. "Royal, please tell me if there's a problem. Feel free to speak. I'm listening."

The boy sat with his arms crossed, head facing his chest. As if it wasn't enough being there, he had to hear his mother confirm once more that their father wasn't her husband.

"Royal."

"There's nothing."

"There's what? I can't hear you," Thandie leaned in towards him, "Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Royal."

The boy lifted his head, unveiling the dark circle under his right eye. "There's nothing wrong."

The headmistress refrained from sighing and said, "As I said, we prohibit violence here. Hence, I will apply the school rules strictly with a three-day suspension."

Thandie remained silent; she turned to glare at the boy, who recalled that the person who brought him into the world could take his life away and send him back to singing with the cherubs in heaven.

Yes, his mom had that kind of power, and Thandie reminded him that every time he made her anger peak. The paradox was that she never yelled on those occasions; with a soft voice, she would say, "You know what, I don't know why I'm wasting my time when I could be living rent-free in prison."

Of course, she didn't mean it, but it affected Royal, who knew his mother didn't play. Thandie was loving, sometimes harsh, but rightful. Her backbone was as strong as tungsten metal. She carried Royal and his siblings, for the boy, she held the world. No one had the right to hurt his mom in any way.

Yet there, Royal didn't recognize Thandie. His mother was a stranger. Royal observed how Thandie morphed daily. If one minute she banged her head on the table because of bills, a beep from her phone was all it took to make her forget her troubles.

Royal noticed the same patterns. Just as his father isolated himself in the garden, Thandie sought solitude across the street. The only difference was that his mom didn't really hide from view.

The boy saw Thandie that first night she went out to speak to the baker. What he thought was a one-shot was becoming a routine, and Royal found himself overwhelmed with emotions he had never encountered. 

What was his mother doing?

He wanted to protect her, but he didn't know how. And this baker, what did he want?

His father was alive and could come home any minute. Things were getting out of hand, and Royal didn't know how to keep control. Everything seemed to slip out of his hands. His sisters were the first to go; a few cinnamon rolls and donuts had them forget they had a father.