Happy Face Pancake

It’s 7am and Nando opens his eyes, with a dry mouth and pounding head. Looking up he does not recognize the yellow ceiling. As he turns his head around he can see the kitchen sink full of dirty dishes and the coffee table next to him full of empty Modelo bottles.

“Where am I?” he thinks to himself.

He notices his friend Orlando sleeping on the gray couch next to him still holding on to a bottle in his hand. He shakes his head grinning and both his temples pulsate so hard it makes him clinch. He then remembers he came out to have a beer with Orlando and ended up having a few too many. He wants to check his phone but hesitates. He knows he probably promised Karla he would be home early last night. He knows she will be mad he didn’t come home but he’s not in the mood to read her angry texts so he just puts the phone away in his pocket. He jumps out of the couch, puts his ragged Timberlands on and storms out the door.

As he starts his blue Ford Ranger the grinding sound of the engine makes his headache worse. He wants to go home but decides he better drive to Nat’s Early Bite to pick up breakfast for Karla and the kids. He’s sure the gesture will soften her up, it always does. He orders happy face pancakes for the kids and a country omelet topped with sour cream for her, just like she likes it. “This will do,” he thinks to himself. He thinks of ordering something for himself but the thought of food makes him nauseous. He reckons what he needs is booze to make him feel better.

As he approaches home, he starts to feel uneasy. He hated conflict especially with Karla, she would yell at him and he would yell back at her; he couldn’t stand the saddened look on the kids’ faces when that happened, it made him angry.

“When did she turn so uptight?” he thought.

This was her fault too! After all, she knew he liked to drink, there was no surprise there. Wasn’t that what had drawn her to him? The club, the parties with friends; she was fun then, not anymore. She changed. Although if he was honest, he had changed too. It had been months since he was drinking daily. Every morning before leaving for work, he drank a beer to start the day. That first beer would hold him up until lunchtime and then that one would hold him up until he got home back from work. It wasn’t that bad he thought, he wasn’t missing work and he was providing for the family. Karla was just hard to please. He had a job. He did what he had to do for the family. What more does she want!? he thought angrily.

He parked the noisy truck on the driveway and noticed Karla’s black CR-V was not there. Maybe she’d run to Nat’s to buy a country omelet with sour cream? He hoped she didn’t, it would ruin the surprise he had brought her. When he walked inside the house, the stilled silence of the place gave him chills down his spine and a deep sense of loneliness took over him. He placed the food on the table and noticed little Logan’s high chair was missing from the kitchen. He then quickly walked over to the kids’ room and when he opened the door, he noticed there were no toys scattered on the floor, no ipad sitting on the dresser, no crib, no wife, no family, the room was empty. It then hit him like a ton of bricks; he remembered that three months ago, Karla had finally had enough and left taking the kids with her. He’d lost them on a cold night in December when he had spent the night at Orlando’s after having a few too many.

“They are gone. They’re really gone,” he murmured.

He’d lost them and he wished he had them back. He stood numb standing by the kitchen table and felt like a dumb ass when he noticed the happy face pancake smiling at him, it knew he was an idiot and it was laughing at him. He angrily slammed it off the table and the happy face fell splattering its whip cream smile and sweet strawberries across the kitchen floor. As tears rolled down Nando’s face he wished he had listened to Karla and stopped drinking. He wished he could just stop, he wished he could make her happy but he couldn’t. He rationalized it was too late now, so he walked over to the fridge, opened the door and pulled out a six-pack. He dragged his bulky feet over to the living room; he felt heavy and utterly helpless. He was drowning and Karla was not there to help him. He sat on the lonely grey couch for a long time staring at the empty wall. The house was so quiet he could hear himself breathe until the hissing sound of his beer can erupted. He then chugged two beers before passing out on his own couch this time.