Gen 1 – Chapter 8

Kitty Black

When I said yes, I certainly hadn’t been expecting a ride in a limo.

I mean, he could have mentioned he was the CEO of DewCorps before pulling his snazzy limo up in front of my house (I swear they’re almost the same size, if you look at them from the right angle). Harriet, of course, had  a field day. She didn’t believe that a limo could be coming for someone like me. She looked like a complete fool, stepping out on the front porch to greet ‘her’ guest, only to hear the driver call out for me.

Something went well that day.

By the time we were munching on our key lime pie deserts, he was offering to make this luncheon a weekly event. Again…who was I to turn him down?

———-

As time passed, I fell into the habit of meeting him downtown. It was a great way to get publicity for my music. And, well, it was also a great way to pass time when he was late. Which happened from time to time. He was a CEO after all. He had meetings he had to attend, even on the weekends.

Which was all fine by me. On top of the publicity, I was making a lot of friends. People would come to eat their lunches in the park and listen to me play.

One person in particular made permanent alterations to his jogging schedule in order to stop by the park I played in.

Christopher Steele. Friendliest man I had ever met.

Now, when he asked me to the theater, it was a completely different feeling than with Gunther. I didn’t feel out of my league. In fact, I was completely at ease.

We just sort of fit right together, like two pieces from a puzzle.

It should be no surprise that this became a weekly event for me as well.

———-

Which brings us full circle to the first few years of my life in Sunset Valley. That’s pretty much all there was to it. Work five days a week. Saturday lunches with Gunther. Saturday trips to the theater with Chris. Daily care for Bernard.

Bernard was the complete opposite of Harriet. Where as she was mean and loud and just plain horrible, he was the sweetest baby I had ever seen.

I was the one that taught him how to walk at seven months old.

That look on his face, that smile and wonder…it could really warm a girl’s heart.

This whole world that had crushed my spirits…it was all new for him. Who could say? Maybe in ten years time, everything would be completely different.

That spark in his eyes gave me hope.

Hope was something I was desperately in need of then.

On the outside, Harriet appeared to be, well, a decent mother. But when push came to shove, she wasn’t really there for him.

Usually it was just me and little Bernard.

But really, we wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Happy fourth birthday kid.

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