Pepper Kisses

(Note: one of the other members of my group had the mother as the main focus of the chapter she contributed.  In her chapter, the mother is described as somewhat snobby and the type that does everything for her kid and expects him to be perfect.)


    James Earl Radcliff glared at his reflection in the mirror of his cramped, somewhat moldy bathroom.  Although he was only 37, more gray hairs were appearing every day, even sprouting on his face when he was too lazy to shave.  Soon, I'll look like an exotic species of skunk - the silver-striped polecat, found only in Chicago on East 32nd Street, Apartment 9B, he thought, grinning proudly at his wit.  He straightened his name-badge, which read "Jim," plucked one last gray hair from his head with the tweezers, and staggered into the kitchen for a quick lunch.  Ham and swiss on wheat, with brown mustard and banana peppers, his favorite.  Couldn't forget the Doritos and tall glass of milk, of course.
      In accordance with his usual routine, Jim lost himself in thoughts while he ate, the type of thoughts one wouldn't expect of a janitor, or "custodial assistant," as he liked to call himself.  Important thoughts, like, what did it mean to be a middle-aged janitor with no wife or kids (and a bitter ex-girlfriend)?  Why did he have to wear a one-piece uniform that dug at his crotch?  Why were they called banana peppers?  And, most importantly, would he get time and a half for coming in on a Saturday and cleaning up after a bunch of pimply 7th graders after their science experiments had exploded or rotted?  He vowed to himself that if the answer to the latter was "no," he would give up his mop and broom once and for all.
                                                    * * * * *
         When Jim stepped out of his tan Camry and headed up the steps to the side door of PS 116, he noticed Mrs. Miller and her son Andrew walking out.  He paused, admiring the angelic effect the afternoon sun had on her slight figure, outlining her in white light.  Dressed in a khaki skirt and a light purple top that complemented her hazel eyes and dark hair well, she was Jim's idea of a perfect woman.  He sighed as he started towards the school; he knew a woman like that would never even notice a guy like him. 
    "Hi," Jim said, coming upon the duo.
    "Hello," Mrs. Miller replied, barely looking at the janitor.
    "Beautiful day, isn't it?"
    "Yes, it is." 
    "I only got second place," the boy interrupted, pouting his lips.
    "Well, that's nothing to be ashamed of, good for you."
    "Yes, Andy, come along now," Mrs. Miller said, gently nudging him forward.  She did not want to be stuck in a long conversation with a cleaning person, although, admittedly, a handsome one.
    "Have a nice day," called the janitor after her.
    "Thanks, you too," replied Mrs. Miller, her voice a bit strained from walking so fast.
                                                    * * * * *
         Entering the gymnasium, Jim shook his head and let out a small disappointed sigh.  It looked like the remains of a battleground.  Yellow, blue, and white streamers (the school's colors) hung from the rafters and littered the floor.  The remains of science experiments were ranged across the gym in neat rows in front of bright, colorful posters.  There was a putrid stench in the air, a mixture of rotten potatoes, dead plants, and carbon dioxide.  How original, another volcano. 
         As Jim began tearing down the streamers and the experiments that represented hours of hard work now abandoned, he began to think of other places he could be. Anywhere else would be preferable, really.  Home, Europe, Hawaii, Alaska, the grave...  As he was tearing down an experiment involving finding the most efficient stain remover, he was startled by the sound of high-heeled footsteps echoing on the hard wooden floor.  It was Mrs. Miller, towing Andrew behind her.
    "Well, go get it," she instructed her son, but he didn't move.
    She noticed the janitor looking at her and explained, "He forgot his experiment.  He wants to keep it."
    "Which one is his?"
    "Um, that one over there, I think," she said, pointing towards the corner of the gym.
    "You're lucky; I haven't gotten to that side of the gym yet."
    "Oh."  Without a word, she quickly strutted past him, Andrew in tow.
She came back carrying a poster under her arm and a cardboard flat full of plants, labeled "water," "pop," "milk," etc .
    "Here, let me help you with those," Jim offered, for she looked like she was going to drop the heavy box.
    "Oh, um, thanks," she said, handing the box to him.
    "Is water the best 'water' for plants.  Hmm, interesting."
    "Huh?  Oh, right, the poster."
    "Looks like a good experiment."
    "Thanks, Andrew and I worked hard at it.  Didn't we, honey?"  Mrs. Miller said, flattered at the compliment.  Someone was finally noticing her hard work, instead of giving all of the credit to her son.  This janitor was handsome and kind.
    "Yeah, I guess," Andy muttered in reply.
    "Well, we better get going."
    "But Mom, I gotta pee."
    "Ok, I'm gonna head to the car.  Meet me out there."
    "K"
    "I'll help you carry these out," Jim said, hoping to linger in her company.
    "That's very nice of you, but..."
    "No, I insist," Jim claimed with a smile.
    "Thanks."  She had to admit, he had a nice smile.
Mrs. Miller's Lexus was parked at the back of the parking lot because she was worried someone would scratch it if she parked close.  On the way to the car, they made small talk about the weather and the science fair.  With a beep, Mrs. Miller remotely popped the trunk open.  As they both leaned over the trunk, him with the plants and her with the poster, Mrs. Miller caught a whiff of something pungent but delightful.  Straightening up, Jim noticed her lingering look.
    "What is it?  Is there something wrong?"
    "Oh no, it's...it's nothing, just that...you smell like banana peppers.  My husband doesn't let me keep spicy foods in the house because he had a stomach ulcer and can't eat them anymore, so I've been craving them," Mrs. Miller replied, laughing at how stupid she must sound.
    "You have quite a sense of smell; I had peppers on my sandwich earlier."
    "Craving makes the senses keener, I guess.  Well, anyway, I better get going."
    "Yeah, me too, I still have half a gym to clean."
Jim, always a gentleman, leaned over to shut the trunk.  When he did so, their eyes met and they leaned in close.  Later, she could never figure out whether the banana peppers or something else was to blame.  Whatever the reason, their lips met.  Just as they were going for a second, deeper kiss, they heard the door to the school open - Andy was heading towards the car.
    Embarrassed, Mrs. Miller quickly stepped back from the janitor saying, "Thanks for your help.  Bye," and got into her car.
    Jim walked back to the school, a grin on his face.  He knew he would never have a woman like Mrs. Miller, but for one brief moment, his favorite food had allowed his lips to touch the perfect woman.