The Hand That Feeds You

Contrary to popular belief, brunch is actually the most important meal of the day. I mean, let’s be honest, no one really has time for breakfast these days and if you’re anything like Pam, married with the kind of ambition that propels you so high up the corporate ladder that it’s deemed “emasculating” then, brunch is probably your most cherished escape.

“Did you guys see the pictures that are trending?” She excitedly asked as soon as she was seated at the table.

She always got brunch with the same set of friends: Mizwa, her best friend and college roommate; Thobile, her sounding board and the only other person who was willing to attend the Christmas church service with her and finally, Selena whom Pam always viewed as a bit of an enigma.

“You mean the ones of that fitness couple?” Thobile asked, with great enthusiasm.

“Oh please,” Mizwa said, lifting her mimosa to her cherry red lips so she could take a sip, “those people are barely a couple!”

“Don’t say that!” Pam responded.

“Well, it’s not like she’s wrong!” Selena quickly interjected, “honestly, if I were you, I’d stop investing so much hope in all these social media couples.”

“Come on!” Thobile chimed in, “I think you guys are being too harsh on them!”

“By pointing out the truth we see?” Mizwa asked.

“It’s your perspective, yes but, you don’t really know if it’s the truth,” Thobile calmly stated.

“Are you ladies ready to order?” A waiter gleefully interrupted, armed with a pen and paper so he could take their order.

“Yes. I’ll have one plate of a faithful man with a side of thoughtfulness and deep pockets,” Selena said, disarming him.

The waiter stood there, completely dumbfounded.

“Do you know why you can’t get it for me?” Selena doubled down, “it’s because that’s not a thing that exists.”

The table erupted in agreement. All the ladies seemed to fully embrace the sentiment except one — Pam but, no one seemed to notice.

The waiter cleared his throat, “You ladies obviously need a bit more time. I’ll be back to take your orders.”

To no one’s surprise, once brunch was over, Pam announced that she’d be staying behind to work.

“Don’t forget about my show on Friday!” Mizwa reminded her before walking out behind Selena.

“Will you need anything else?” The waiter asked as soon as he was done clearing the table.

“Yes, I’d like a coffee please.”

“Make that two!” Thobile said rejoining the table.

“You’re still here?” Pam asked in shock.

“You know I hate being alone around those two!”

“Well, that’s understandable!” The waiter chimed in.

“Excuse me?” Pam said, trying hard not to laugh, “if you’re not careful, those ladies will come back and snatch your tip.”

The waiter scurried off, giving them room to release their laughter. He came back a short while later with their coffees.

“Okay, jokes aside,” Thobile said, “are you really okay?”

“What do you mean?” Pam replied, nonchalantly lifting her cup to her lips.

“I saw how you reacted when Selena pulled her shenanigans.”

Pam’s nonchalance quickly dissipated and anguish overcame her face.

“Sometimes I just wonder if they view my own relationship in that way, you know?”

Thobile paused for a moment to compose her thoughts.

“Would it matter if they did?”

“Well,” Pam said, lifting her cup for another sip, “I don’t really care for Selena’s opinion but Mizwa is my best friend.”

“Yeah,” Thobile rolled her eyes, “so much of a best friend that she didn’t even notice the harm her words caused you.”

Pam sat, allowing herself to process the bitterness those words had suddenly charged into her.

“I hate to speak ill of my own friend but we both know how selfish she can be!”

“That’s the thing,” Pam said, her voice barely audible, “I don’t think my reaction has anything to do with her.”

“What do you mean?” Thobile took another sip.

“I think my husband is going to leave me.”

Thobile choked.

“Would you ladies like anything else?” The waiter said, making his return, “a fresh batch of muffins was just -…”

“If you say one more word…” Thobile said threateningly, a finger raised to caution the waiter.

The waiter pursed his lips and, once again, scurried away.

“Why would you say that? I mean… did he say something?” Thobile asked, her attention turned back to Pam.

“It’s the things he’s stopped saying that make me worry!”

“What do you mean?”

“I…” Pam searched for the right words in her brain, “I know this might sound childish but he’s being too good to me.”

Pam paused, picked her cup back up and shook her head.

“I know how it sounds but he used to complain about everything! How hard I work, how I barely make time to show up to his work events and how, even when I do, I make him look bad AND…” she slammed her purse onto the table and started rummaging through it like a dog digging for a bone.

Thobile watched on in inquisitive confusion.

“The other day,” Pam continued, “I found this in the pocket of his blazer.”

She slammed a tube of lipstick onto the table. Thobile couldn’t conceal her shock. She gasped so loudly that other patrons turned to look at their table with great concern.

“You should’ve led with this!” She said, lifting the tube so she could inspect it.

“So then you agree?” Pam asked, anxiety riddled all over her face.

Thobile looked back at her in confusion.

“He’s obviously about to leave me!”

“I mean,” Thobile shrugged, “he might be cheating and, that’s a big MIGHT but, it doesn’t really mean that he’s going to leave you!”

Pam buried her face in her hands and started to cry. Thobile shuffled over to the other side of the table to console her.

“It’s okay,” she said, softly brushing Pam’s back to bring her comfort, “you’ll be fine.”

“How?” Pam said, lifting her head to look Thobile in the eye.

Her face was a mess. The make-up had melted under her tears and mascara was running down her cheeks.

“The same way you were before ever even meeting him,” Thobile responded before taking a pack of wipes out of her purse.

“If anything,” she opened the packet, drew one wipe, took Pam’s face in one hand and started wiping with the other, “I think you should be thinking about whether or not you want to stay.”

“I’ve never even thought about leaving!” Pam said, her voice cloaked in so much sadness it made Thobile’s heart ache.

“That man has been my lifeline since the very first moment I saw him. I was living as shadow of myself before he fed love, light and purpose into me.”

“And I’m not trying to downplay that,” Thobile said, “but sometimes the hand that feeds you is actually giving you poison.”

Her words knocked the air out of Pam’s lungs.

The waiter returned. This time, he knew it would be stupid to speak so he quietly cleared the table.

“I don’t know what to do,” Pam declared once the waiter had left.

“Well,” Thobile put an arm around her, “I’m not really sure that I can advise you on that.”

“What would you do?” Pam asked with so much sincerity that Thobile searched the depths of her heart for the truth.

“I honestly don’t know…”

“At least now you know how I feel.”

“Well I can’t say I’m shocked to find this workaholic still here,” Mizwa casually stated as she strolled back in, “but Thobz, I’m truly disappointed in you.”

Mizwa barely noticed the state her friends were in as she started moving things around, looking all over as though she had misplaced something.

She snapped her fingers at a passing waitress, “What did you guys do with my phone?”

“Sorry?” The confused waitress asked back.

“My phone!” Mizwa condescendingly repeated, “I mistakenly left it.”

“Woah Mizwa, are you sure?” Thobile chimed in, “we’ve been here the whole time and we didn’t see anything.”

“Then call it! I’ll bet you it’ll ring in one of their pockets!”

“Mizwa!”

“What!? You know how underpaid they are. I’d also resort to stealing.”

Pam took her phone out to dial Mizwa’s number when suddenly, her purse rang.

Mizwa’s face reddened in embarrassment as she realised that she had caused a scene for absolutely no reason at all.

“I’m SO sorry,” she said, “I’ve been so stressed with work that-…”

The waitress didn’t bother to stick around for the rest of that sentence.

“Well, that was rude!” Mizwa remarked, taking the “missing” phone out of her purse.

“She was rude?” Thobile inquired.

“Ugh. Don’t start!” Mizwa nonchalantly said, plopping back onto a chair, “what are you two even gabbing about and where are the drinks?”

Her eyes scanned the table for a brief moment before lighting up as they landed on one object.

“My lipstick!” She exclaimed, excitedly reaching over to grab it.

She popped the lid open and twisted the tube. Cherry red lipstick came bustling out in all its glory and she applied a fresh coat.

“I’ve been looking all over for this! Where did you find it?” She innocently asked.

Pam and Thobile were too stunned to speak.