“Melanie?” squeaked the brown-haired girl, dropping into a chair in the center of the Bay Ridge newsies’ kitchen. Its legs clacked tiredly against the linoleum flooring, the glue of its fastenings creaking in exhaustion. “Melanie?”

Promise Kept dangled one wrist over the wooden slat back of the chair in front of her, a thin silver-colored bracelet tapping lightly against the worn wood. “Yep. Melanie. Melanie Ayanna Smyth. Smyth’s for me, a’ course.” Her light green eyes were sparkling amusedly from underneath her pale brown bangs.

“And Ayanna’s for…for…” Melanie motioned vaguely with her dark-haired head. “Charity?”

“Who else?” Promise Kept smirked lightly. “An’…”

“And…” Melanie trailed off, her cheeks pinking lightly under her luminous blue eyes.

“An’…”

“And Melanie’s for…for…me?”

“Named ‘er aftah the two goils who’ve made me realize what life’s really about,” explained the sixteen-year-old, tossing her head carefully to get her sandy hair out of her face. She scanned Melanie’s expression and found it almost unreadable. “I…” She bit her lower lip lightly. “I can change it, if y’ want…”

Melanie shook her head, dark curls tumbling in front of her shoulders. “No, no… No, definitely not at all…” She laughed, a distracted, pale laugh. “No, I love it.” She looked at her hands. “I…I’m flattered, really. I’m sure I…don’t deserve such a thing. At all…”

“Mel,” sighed Promise Kept, sliding to a seat on the chair she had been standing behind only seconds prior. She rested her elbows on the tabletop and her chin on her folded hands, eyeing the eighteen-year-old skeptically. “Don’t even pretend like you believe ‘dat.”

A thin smile settled onto Melanie’s face. “I’m not perfect.”

“Well, sure you ain’t. Nobody is. Nobody’s sayin’ you are. I didn’t say I named ‘er aftah ‘da poifectest person I knew… I’m sayin’ I named ‘er aftah a goil who made me realize what life’s all about. Friendship. Loyalty. Love…for yerself as much as for others.”

“Promise…”

“Mel…”

“Better watch out with that one, or you’ll have me and your poor daughter confused out of our minds.” Melanie smiled a little. “Maybe I’d better give up on my nicknames…or she’d better.”

“Or maybe we’ll just figure ‘dat out when people start gettin’ confused,” interrupted Promise Kept, putting a hand on the table between them. “Don’t ‘chu worry, Mellie, it’s all gonna be great.”

“I’m glad you’re well.”

“As’m I!”

“So, tell me everything I need to know.”

“Well, y’need t’know everythin’. Been too long wit’out sharin’ all my chitter-chatter.”

“Well, if we’re going to be here all night, I’ll make coffee and cookies.”

“In that event, I’ll go put on an evenin’ dress,” smirked Promise Kept, leaning back on her chair.

“You always looked nice in silk,” Melanie responded with a laugh as she filled the coffeepot with water.

“Yeah, I know. Was t’inkin’ I’d put on ‘da apricot one wit’ all ‘da underskirts.”

“Those are going out of fashion. They’re moving toward the lace-fronted look, now.” Melanie grabbed down the coffee grounds out of the tall cabinetry. “Besides, you’ll blend in too much with the table. I was thinking more the navy merino.”

“Nah.” Promise Kept chuckled into her hand to hide her amusement and then put on her serious face again. “Merino’s too heavy. I was thinking something lighter.”

“It’s the middle of winter!”

“It’s March!”

“Well, there’s still snow…”

“Anyway, you need help so I can stop sittin’ here like a lump?”

“I thought you were nice decoration.”

“Mel…”

“Yes, mom?”

“Aw, be quiet.”

“Better start getting used to it now, dearie… You’ve got a long eighty years to go.”

Promise Kept snorted. “Eighty years…”

“Ninety, then.”

“Gimme ‘da God-damned coffee and start makin’ cookies.”

“Fine, fine…yes ma’am.” Melanie smirked at the younger girl, fetching her flour and sugar.

more to come...