Crumbling Cakes

Part XIV

Eventually, he shook his head. "I have no idea how we came to deserve you, but you're a gift amongst this shit of a life we have."

"Oh stop." I nudged him in the arm. "I know what this is like, Tony. Don't think I've forgotten how this feels." I looked around their tiny village. "I'm so proud of you. Look what you've managed to build out of nothing." My eyes drifted back to his, ensuring that he saw my truth. "As long as there is breath in my body, I will never stop helping you in any way I can. Do you understand?"

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Now cheer up, buttercup." His lips drew up in a lazy grin "Where are the rest of the kiddos?" I peeked around him, rubbing my hands together. It was like a ghost town. Tony looked behind him.

"Most of the little ones are napping. The others I told to stay huddled in the tent until the food is ready. Paul and Rosie are off on a—" He looked away, scratching his neck sheepishly. "Um, a supply run."

"Ah." I nodded knowingly. My fingers instantly flexed. "Okay. Let's go hand these out to the munchkins."

Tony briefly stopped to stir the creamy soup before we made it to the tents. The kids squealed in delight when we handed out the shirts. Nobody cared that they were too large or that they were all black. Poverty has a way of making you appreciative of every little thing that came your way. It's a hard lesson to learn so young, but it's a beneficial one.

"Put them on under your current clothes," I instructed as one by one crashed into me with hugs. "They'll work best that way."

I watched Tony lay out the blankets and noticed a face was missing. "Where's Liz?" I asked.

He glanced at me and nodded in the direction of the tent next door. "In there."

"Alone?" Her solitary preference concerned me, that much was evident.

"Today, yes. She's getting better. Talks more and hangs out with the group." He stepped out and straightened to his full height. "But she still likes to be alone from time to time. Nothing to worry about."

My head bobbed in acceptance. "Okay." quickly, I made my way to her tent and opened the flimsy door. She was curled up on her side. Burrowed into a couple of thin blankets and the sweater I had given her. I smiled at the sleeping angelic face. My hand shot out behind me and was instantly filled with a blanket and a shirt.

Crawling in carefully, I draped the blanket over her body. The extra layer would do her good. Feeling the additional weight, she stirred.

"Mama?" Her sweet voice called out. Eyes fluttering open, disoriented. My heart broke. Fractured down the middle—resembling the San Andreas fault line. Liz's eyes took in my face. Her dainty hand reached out to touch my cheek. "Dalia."

It was a statement. Just my name. But in that one word, there was so much adoration that I couldn't breathe. The feeling of undeserved devotion washed over me.

"I came to bring you some warmth, baby." I tucked the long sleeve shirt to her front, just beneath the blanket. "Put that one on under your other clothes, okay?" Her hands wrapped around the shirt, hugging it to her.

She nodded. I tucked her hair behind her ear, then caressed her rounded cheek—one that was thinner than it should be but still held onto the roundness of a child. Leaning over, I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, whispering, "Go back to sleep, Eliza."

Her head bobbed once more, tired eyes fluttering shut. Adjusting her blanket—being sure to tuck the edges in around her—I ran a warming hand up and down the lump I figured was her arm. Shortly after, I crept back out.