Dawn, the sun peaking through but not quite out, the moon still not ready to leave bidding adue to its bright companion, some may say its sad, some think its romantic. Love comes in many shapes and her faviourite was this, the longing felt just as magical as the closeness, her husband was barely there but each moment spent was cherished deeply by her. She wasn't alone as such where the times, many women had to bid farewell to their husbands , all of thrm tearing up because this could be the last time they see them, their husbands hugging them tightly , some of the most passionate kisses were not seen in weddings but at the harbour. She too hugged her husband but with a smile, knowing if she cried he would have stayed back , not willing to let go but not courageously holding him tight, the limbo of love, twilight rather than dawn.
She still polishes his medals to this day and admires his uniformed photos, all these years later , her son had grown up resembling his late father as the days went on, some part of her knew she should treat him diferrently, to hug her son tighter than she always does, she wasn't distant, she was caring but maybe she gave him too much freedom, so much that he too barely met her. She thought it was fine because that's what she had always known. The sun starts to rise and the rest of the city awakens. She hears the birds, the cars and the local shops shutters open, and something else. Something new, not quite enough to go unnoticed but not loud enough to discern what it is , she shrugs it off,
'Must be the neighbours cat or something'. Getting breakfast out of her way she continues on her morning routine, a walk outside and maybe check for packages her son sent. She opens the door ,walks down, pets the neighbour's cat and checks her delivery. There they lay, she instinctively looked back hoping for her spunky neighbour to help out but he wasn't there. She just picked up one box, slowly carrying them, one at a time, as she made her way upstairs she heard a couple giggling but a familiar voice between the two. She confronts the source of the noise only to see her neighbour, it's Adrian, along with another woman, a beautiful one.
"Oh, Mrs. Campbel good morning.Let me handle those." the young man wished the lady, as he snatched the boxes from the frail lady.
"It's okay boy, i would'nt want top trouble you, especially since you seem busy." Mrs. Campbel definetly doesnt shy away from pointing out
the new visitor. Rosalind also blushes slightly.
"Pish posh, you should just leave the boxes and gety some soup ready. Mrs. Powel would you like some as well?"ADrian swayed looking at Rosalind.
"I'm full, but i wouldnt mind helping with the cooking".Rosalind cleverly chose to distance from Adrian.
Adrian got the current box to their door and went down for more of them, while Rosalind glanced through the old lady's room.
"Dear you dont have to bother ,I cook better alone anyway" Mrs. Campbel smiled trying to keepthe guest comfortable.
"I insist, I'll handle the table and dishes then."Rosalind being polite, elegnce leaking trhough every word she said.
Mrs. Campbel got to preparing the stew, chopping vegetables and getting the spices mixed. Rosalind got the tablecloth and grabbed a towel to
clean the dishes, sink full of water and dish soap Rosalind got to scrubbing. The light music from the record player mixed with the subtle bustling of
a city on Sunday, a symphony of calm.
"So, you two dating?" the question dropped like a bmbshell. So did a plate which Rosalind was cleaning. She took a deep breath ,calmed herself down and responded.
"Yes" . . .
"That's nic--"
"No , NO! I mean't no. Why did I say yes." rosalind grabbed her cheeks flushed as any tomatoe. Her thoughts gouing in a spiral once again.
Meanwhile Adrian was on the ground floor, looking at the pile of boxes to carry.
"Geez, how much does she get ordered . Heck where does she even keep it". He tried to stack two boxes but hey were too heavy so he had to carry them
individually. One step at a time. Every time he wondered what could possibly be in one of these boxes, always resisting the urge to peek. Also the boxes
were ealed shut so he couldn't peek even if he wanted to.
"Breathe honey, there's nothing wrong about feeling young love, agian. Love is complicated. You seem a bit confused "Mrs. Campbell asked in a calm tone.
"I don't know why i said that, maybe i'm still hungover. This is wrong, he's my junior collegue and i have a kid."
"So divorced ,aren't you"
"Yes, he fell out of love."
"Young ones, make love and fall out just as easily"
"What about you miss, you can't find anyone more loyal than an army man".
"Astute observation, you have".
"How was he?"
"Tall, handsome, dreamy, someone who always brought a smile on my face no matter the distance between us".
"Sounds , nice"
"Have any kids, do you?"
"Yeah, my 7 year old son, Daryl. He's at that age where he questions a lot".
"Tough it must be, to live everyday with everything you already have to carry".
"But he is a treasure, i wish to keep him away from my work life , keep him happy. Not a minute goes by where i wonder to just leave it all behind and hug him take him as far away as possible".
Mrs.Campbel stayed silent, she too was a mother but of very different values and even more different life, these two were worlds apart. Yet she knows,
patting Rosalind on her back, slowly and repetedly.
"You are strong, you will get thorugh anything life throws at you, but if you ever feel like resting, i have a spare bed and warm soup always ready. "
Rosalind gave in to her warm embrace.
By the time Adrian had arrived they had the table ready. The soup was delicious . they didn't talk much but it was nice.
"Adrian, you haven't introduced me to this fine lady yet." Mrs.Campbel subtly nudging the two.
"Yeah her, this is my boss, we went to a party last night and she wasn't feeling well so i brought her home".
Rosalind slowly sipping her soup trying not to blurt anything unnecessary.
"Oh , also can she borrow a dress of yours , her dress hasn't dried yet and my pajamas would.t suit a lady."
Rosalind coughs, allmost choking on her soup. Adrian worriedly passed a napkin. Mrs. Campbell patted her back holding back a laugh.
"Come dear, pick out something you like".
"We didn't do anything" Rosalind whispers .
"I know honey, the walls are thinner than you think." Rosalind getting edder by the second.
A few minutes pass and they leave, Adrian being the dense protaganist didn't leave her home all the way and only got her a taxi. Well Rosalind wasn't
in the mental space to even allow huim anyway, keeping the worlds apart just for a bit longer. Adrian goes back to his room and Mrs.Campbel gets ready for lunch. whenever
the packages arrive so does her son. She hadn't been close with him for a few years after his graduation, something related to his job, but since a few months he's been visiting a lot more, also to help his job she recieves the packages because apparently the "warehouse" is closer to her house than his.
The clinking of cutlery was the loudest sound in Mrs. Campbell's dining room. The aroma of her famous chicken curry, usually a comforting scent, seemed to amplify the awkward silence between her and Leo.
"So," Mrs. Campbell began, her voice a little too bright, "how's… how's the city? Bustling, I imagine. All those… new buildings popping up everywhere." She gestured vaguely towards the window, as if the apartment building across the street had sprung up overnight.
Leo, hunched over his plate, mumbled, "It's… fine, Mom. Same as always." He took a large bite, trying to fill the void. He really only came for the packages, and the forced small talk that came with lunch was always the price.
Mrs. Campbell tried again, a hopeful note creeping into her voice. "And your apartment? Still enough light? I always worried that one window of yours didn't get enough afternoon sun."
"It's good, Mom. I'm barely there anyway," he replied, taking a sip of water. He glanced at the stack of brown packages in the living room, a familiar knot tightening in his stomach. He just needed to get this over with.
"Oh, right, your work," she said, her eyes lighting up. "Always on the go, my Leo. It's truly admirable, your dedication. So, anything… exciting happening with your business? Any new clients? I know you mentioned those 'logistics' you handle." She smiled, a gentle, encouraging curve of her lips.
Leo hesitated, a strange warmth spreading through him. His mom was actually trying. She wasn't just asking about his window, or the weather. "Uh, yeah, actually. Things are… picking up." He even managed a small, genuine smile. "Got a couple of new routes. Big ones. Means a lot more… volume."
"Volume!" Mrs. Campbell's face beamed. "That's wonderful, darling! I knew you'd make a success of yourself. You always were so resourceful. Remember that time you somehow convinced Mrs. Henderson to let you 'borrow' her entire collection of vintage comic books?" She chuckled, a fond memory clearly playing in her mind.
Leo actually laughed, a rare, unforced sound. "She never got them back in the same condition, though, did she? Spilled juice on the first edition Superman." He felt a lightness he hadn't expected. Talking to his mom, really talking, wasn't so bad when she wasn't asking pointed questions. He even found himself leaning forward a little. "This new route, it's… it's really something else. High stakes, you know? One wrong move and it's… well, it's all over. Had to deal with some real… characters to get it set up. But it's paying off. Big time."
Mrs. Campbell, lost in the glow of his newfound enthusiasm, didn't seem to register the subtle shift in his tone, or the loaded words. "High stakes, you say? Oh, Leo, you always did have a head for business! And meeting new people, that's just part of the adventure, isn't it? As long as they're not too… gruff." She laughed, picturing her son charming some stern-faced businessmen. "I'm just so proud of you, always making your way in the world." Her eyes, full of unconditional love, shone brightly.
Leo felt a pang of something he couldn't quite name – guilt, maybe, or just the uncomfortable awareness of how far her perception of him was from the truth. But he just smiled, a little colder now, and took another bite of chicken, the moment of genuine connection fleeting. He knew she wouldn't understand, and maybe, in her loving blindness, that was exactly how he preferred it.