“You look terrible.” I walk into the house and ignore Jasmine’s greeting, going straight to the kitchen.

“Thanks, kid.”

Miss Karen is standing at the counter, rubbing her forehead, and straightens when she sees me. Her smile’s just as bright as it is in the beauty pageant pictures on her mantle, with a face that’s aged just barely. Soft black curls frame her face, brushing her slim shoulders.

“Kaija Nicole.” She’s walking towards me and opening her arms and I sink into them immediately, inhaling that always subtly nutmeggy scent and the special comfort one gets from grandmothers.

“Hey Miss Karen, how’s your day going?”

“It’s going, honey. I’m about to head out to the center, but I’m glad you got my message because I want to talk to you about a few things.” Am I imagining her voice sounding more tired than usual? Maybe I’m projecting.

I need a good 12 more hours of sleep.

I pull out a chair at the table and plop down, smiling gratefully when Miss Karen slides a coffee cup in front of me and a small plate.

I close my eyes reverently, pulling the plate closer. It’s cinnamon cream cheese coffee cake with streusel. It’s still a little warm from the oven and I could just moan right now.

“If you ever looked at a man the way you look at my coffee cake, you wouldn’t still be single.” She sips from her mug, pomegranate green tea instead of the mocha coffee she always has for me.

“But that’d be cheating.” I slide my fork through the crumbly goodness, and try not to shove my face into the cake itself.

This is the only right way to start a morning.

We sit in silence for a little bit, and when Miss Karen sits her mug down and leans forward, rotating it in both hands…I know it’s time for whatever she wanted to bring up.

“So…you know I’ve been seeing James for about a year now.”

“Ahhh yes, how is Mr. Rollins?” I grin, shaking my cup a bit to move around the chocolate.

Is that a blush on her face?

“He is very good. We’re thinking about traveling, finally.”

“Oh? Like a few days vacation?”

“Mmm more like a few months…maybe years.”

“Wow.” I put my cup down, swallowing. “That’s pretty serious.”

“I’m not getting any younger, and…now seems like a good time to have a little more fun. Explore.”

“Good, that’s good.” I nod, feeling conflicted.

I want Miss Karen to be happy, and James makes her happy.

But she’s always been in my life in some capacity, and it’s a bittersweet feeling to think of it being any different.

She watched me as a child sometimes, and then I started volunteering at the rehab center where she worked when I was in high school/college…after I went through my rough patches.

She was a very large part of me getting my shit together.

“I can’t say I won’t miss you, but you deserve a little downtime, we both know that.”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“You’re making me nervous.” I put the fork down, my stomach knotting. “Are Laurie and Yani okay?”

Miss Karen has fostered kids for years, almost as long as I’ve known her. Some cycled out, got placed with families that adopted them. Others like Laurie and Yani came in too young to age out of the system but past the usual age a lot of families wanted to adopt.

For them, Miss Karen tried to be a guiding figure rather than full on parental. They’re both level-headed girls, just needed a little prodding to stay on track.

Now they’re a freshman and sophomore in college, and they’ll usually stay with me for a few days when they’re home on break.

“Of course, they’re fine. I want to talk about Jasmine.” She hesitates.

She should know that nothing would surprise me at this point.

We’ve both seen far too much.

“If you keep me in any more suspense, I might pass out right here. This isn’t good for my digestion.”

She rolls her eyes, pursing her lips and looking towards the living room.

“You know what Jazz’s home situation is like, and she hasn’t said anything, but I fear it might be worse than she’s letting on.”

“Do you think it’s time to involve CPS?”

“I don’t know. She spends enough time here that I’d know if she had bruising or was withdrawn, but I can’t know unless she talks to me. But I’m leaving…” she trails off.

“And you want me to find out, and watch over her while you’re away.”

“Yes. She spends time with you anyway, but I wanted to make sure it’s okay that she comes to your place and has someone looking out for her still.” We both look up as Jasmine comes into the room, and she glances between us, shaking her head.

“She’s roped you in, hasn’t she?”

“It didn’t take much persuasion.” I wink, scowling when she plops down in another chair and slides my plate towards her. “You know there’s more in the oven.”

“But yours is right here.” She smiles sweetly, shaking long hair out of her face. “I for one, am very excited to disrupt your life.”

“Yeah, I bet. I’m looking forward to more consistent insults and you eating my food.”

“See? We’ll be fine. Now, go get to packing and get out of here soon before you change your mind.” Jazz tells Miss Karen, pointing my fork at her. “You worry too much.”

“I think of you girls like my own children, so it’s my job to worry.” She smiles softly, rising from the table and pulling her pink cardigan off the back of her chair and shrugging it on. “Alright, work calls. You two have a good day, and Kaija - go on a date or something.” She drops a kiss on my forehead and ruffles Jazz’s hair as she walks by, grabbing her keys off the counter.

I get another small piece of cake from the oven, and sit back down, eating in silence.

“She’s worried you’re not telling her something.”

“I know.” Jazz says quietly, keeping her eyes on her plate.

“Are you?”

“I can handle it, I promise. If it was something major, I’d tell you two…but it’s not and sometimes, I just need to figure things out myself. I’m not a kid anymore.”

“I know, kid. You’re 16, practically an AARP member.”

“Har har.” She grabs the empty dishes from the tables and I subtly check her over as she washes them at the sink.

“Is that skirt supposed to be that high?”

“Sorry my legs are long. It’s all an illusion.”

“Mhm. Come on, I’ll take you to school.” I turn off the lights in the kitchen after Jazz goes into the living room to grab her schoolbag. Most mornings, she leaves her house early and walks over to Miss Karen’s so she has a little peace before school.

She’s on a track scholarship at a private school, and things are looking good for her to get into the schools she wants to later on if she keeps everything up.

I lock the door behind us and slip on my shades.

See Jazz safely to class, then just hope the day goes by quickly so I can hop right back into bed.