Blue Bunnies

"I'll just have the usual, thank you."

"And I'll have the avocado toast—on rye, please."

The waitress gave a warm smile before walking back to the kitchen. The two ladies smiled at each other briefly before each taking a sip of their coffees.

"You come here a lot?" Margot asked.

"I do, actually. It's my husband's favourite." Caroline smiled brightly, her lips stretched around whitened teeth.

“So you did tie the knot! Joe Thompson? Oh man, I remember you two together. We all knew you were going to make it.”

Caroline shifted in the booth slightly, “No, actually. Don Harper.”

“Oh. Well, that’s amazing! How long has it been now?”

“Almost three years now.”

“Wow. That’s amazing.”

Both of the women took another sip of their coffee. A beat passed.

Margot’s eyes drifted to the television behind Caroline. She grimaced slightly at the face on the screen.

“God, I wish someone would step in,” Margot said.

Caroline twisted in the booth, bracing her palm against the table. She turned back around, her eyebrows raised.

“I’m not sure. He seems like he knows what he’s doing.”

“You think so?”

“Well, he seems to be cleaning up. My husband’s brother works with them. He tells me all the time about how important it is that those people get sent out. They’re just… not good for the country.”

“Even the children?”

“What about them? They belong where they came from. Why should they be here?”

Margot thought for a moment. “Why is it important they leave? I’m not convinced anyone could change our systems, especially with him in power.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Caroline. “Anyone could be a threat. It doesn’t matter if they’re tattooing their faces, selling drugs, or putting feathers in their hair. You just don’t know with people like that. Can you imagine if they ran the towns here? We’d be in shambles.”

Margot blinked hard and stared at her coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just… don’t you hear how that sounds?”

“I know how it sounds.”

“They’re people.”

“So are we.”

Margot’s eyes followed a man and woman who just entered, sitting down at a booth with their little one, no more than three years old, clutching at a teddy bear. A waitress came promptly with a high-chair for the boy. They asked politely for a coffee and two glasses of zumo de naranja.

With her voice lowered, she asked, “What about the boy in the blue bunny hat?”

“The boy in the blue bunny hat.”

“You know the story, right?”

“Yes, I know the story.” Caroline sighed loudly. “They’re all the same. So what does it matter?”

Margot watched silently while the boy’s mother picked up his fallen teddy bear, returning it to his arms. A small giggle left his lips.

“Perhaps there is something else we could talk about. What about Don? What does he do for work?”

“He’s in finance. He travels a lot.”

“That must be hard.”

“Maybe for the unfaithful.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It'd only be hard if I had eyes for someone else.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you miss him?”

“Yes, I miss him a lot. But it'd be different if I felt like I had to go after someone else while he's gone.”

“And Don would never…?”

“No. If he ever did, he hasn’t told me. That might be better anyway.”

“Better for him not to tell?”

“Yes. It would only make things hard for us, you know.”

“Right.”

Another sip.

“So,” Caroline asked, breaking the silence, “Do you still write?”

“Yes, actually. I took a journalism course a few years ago, and I’ve had a few reporting jobs here and there. But I’ve been running a blog now for about the last six months.”

“Oh, yeah.” Caroline picked at a hangnail. “How's that going?”

“It’s good. I’ve had a steady amount of readers over the last while, and it’s been enough to pay my bills.”

“Mhm. What do you write about?”

Margot looked again to the boy, drinking his juice out of a sippy cup his parents must have brought.

“People.”

“People? Like celebrities?”

Margot’s eyes did not flick to the television, but she was reminded of the view.

“Sort of.”

Caroline gave her a puzzled look.

“I mean, I write about lots of different things.”

“Like the boy in the hat,” Caroline said flatly.

“Like the boy in the hat, yeah. But other things, too. Injustice. New bills. Women’s issues.”

She scoffed. “Right.”

Margot’s lips thinned.

Caroline rolled her eyes. “It’s just that–”

The waitress arrived at last, setting down a plate of avocado toast on rye and Caroline’s usual—the traditional breakfast. The meal stopped the conversation for a while, though Margot felt as though she no longer had an appetite.

After the food was finished and packed, Caroline politely stated that they should meet again sometime. Margot agreed, without offering any specific date. They left separately, Caroline the first to leave. Margot noticed Caroline’s shoulders tense, clutching her purse tightly as they passed the couple and their little boy.