Grilled Cheese

Step 1: Butter both sides of two pieces of bread. Put mayonnaise on the outside of both. 

The crows outside caw his arrival from their nest up the light pole. I can tell they’re talking to me because I’ve learned that even crows sound different when they talk to their young. It’s less of a squawk and more of a grunt. Still gruff, but a sweeter huff. The babies seem to like it. When he enters the kitchen, he says: “Son, make me a grilled cheese.” 

Step 2: Put one slice mayonnaise-side down in the skillet. 

There are needles in the bathroom. They come wrapped in wads of toilet paper. Doesn’t he know I can see this shit? 

Step 3: Three slices of cheese, no more, no less. Put on the other slice of bread. 

“Do you remember your momma?” he asks while rolling a joint. 

“No.” 

He takes a drag. “Do you remember anything about me? Before they put me away?” 

“No,” which is true, but I’d heard enough disparaging stories about him from my grandparents, from my classmates, from his old friends. People only talked about him. Never her. 

Step 4:  A sprinkle of garlic and onion powder. 

He says, “I don’t want to get in your way. I just need a place to stay. Get back on my feet.” 

“Were you ever on them?” 

“On what?” 

“Your feet.” 

“Help me out here.” 

Step 5: Cook until the cheese is melted and the bread is browned, not blackened. 

“Your momma used to make the best grilled cheese. When you were born, I swear, that’s all we ate.” 

“I never got to try it.” 

“What did they tell you about what happened?” 

“You were high on something and pushed her out of the car.” 

The crows watch through the kitchen window. Their chicks are getting bigger, almost fledglings now. I don’t mind when the parents raid my garbage. It must be hard to provide for so many mouths. I only worry about the needles. I put the grilled cheese in front of my dad and watch him consume every crumb. 

He wipes his hands on his shirt. “I’m serious about starting over.” 

“So start,” I say. 

“I’ll tell you how she made grilled cheese.”