Clandestine

seventy seven

We sit in the kitchen, back in the corner. The staff is confused as why we are here, sending us barely concealed glances and whispering, but no one is brave enough to approach us and ask what we are doing.

The party is starting to pick up. I can hear it through the double doors. The light music and drone of conversation. This is still the sophisticated part. People come and eat and talk. Mostly adults, though a few teens that are forced to come along. Then along ten o'clock the adults begin to disappear and the teen crowd comes. The music switches and more alcohol appears, mostly brought by the teens, and it's filled with shouting and laughter.

I'm not sure what's worse.

The barely there politeness or the unconcealed chaos.

I think I hate both of them equally.

These parties are not one thing that I will miss.

I stop that thought.

I can't think like I'm about to die. I can't give up hope yet. If I don't have hope, what do I have?

I don't have a plan. I don't have an advantage. I just have a girl trying not to tremble besides me with two guns stuck into the waistband of her nylons.

Oh, what has the world come to.

The head of the staff, Linda, comes up to me.

The lady comes up to me and holds out a hand. "I'm Linda."

I shake her hand and say, "Diane."

She hesitantly smiles, "Yes, I know who you are. You are the hostess after all. We were just wondering what you were doing in the kitchen. After all, it is your party. Why don't you go enjoy it?"

I say, "Are we in the way?"

"No, we were just worried that something is wrong. Is that the case?"

I want to to laugh because something is very wrong, but then I want to cry, so instead I just shake my head. "We are fine. We just wanted to talk for a while. We are waiting for the party to grow until we make our grand entrance."

Her eyes narrow a little. She's probably thinking about what a little snob I am. Fine. Let her think what she wants to think. It makes no difference to me. If it saves our cover, she can think whatever she wants.

I say, "Are we a trouble in here? We may be able to move somewhere else. Or if there's a better place to wait in the kitchen, we could move there."

Mindy shakes her head, "No, you are fine there. Thank you for asking."

I nod and she hurries away. She snaps at the people still staring at us, commanding them to get back to work. I wonder if we are in the way. Even if we were. she wouldn't be able to kick me out of my own kitchen.

Julia says, "Do you not know who your staff are?"

"They aren't my staff all the time. We couldn't afford them. We just hired them for a party."

Julia nods and says, "I used to always learn the name of my staff. They were part of my family. And then I learned the way they thought of us and the way that most people of our status thought of them. People were constantly leaving and coming into the service. And then I realized that these people weren't really part of my family, they were just there for the job. They didn't care about me or what I wanted. They wouldn't have stayed at our job because they cared about me when there was a higher paying job elsewhere. They went where the money was. Not a care for me."

I say, "I'm sure that some of them cared for you. Maybe they just didn't have the resources to stay."

Julia just shakes her head and presses her lips together. "It doesn't really matter."

She shifts against the cupboard we are leaning against. Seated on the cold wood floor, our backs against the wooden doors of the cupboards, the knobs digging into our back. This spot is the furthest back in the kitchen, walls on two of our sides. We can see both of the entrances to the room and there is no way to sneak up behind us. Our hope is to see Julia's mother when she walks in and react from there. What we do to react, well, that's a mystery. It depends whether her mother is armed with her words or her weapons first.

Julia fiddles with a chain bracelet around her wrist and hums. She glances up at me and says, "Do you know how crazy this is?"

"Yes."

"I'm here with my family's enemy. My mother killed your father. I have two guns in my waistband to protect us from my mother. I don't know if I'm going to have to use them or if I'm going to be able to use them. And I don't know if that one second of hesitation is going to mean life or death."

"Plan A."

"Plan A." She echoes.

A staff member comes through the doors, one of the servers. My eyes glaze over her until I catch her whispering with Mindy. They are both staring at us.

I stand and say, "Is something wrong?"

The server steps forward, "A girl asked me to give this to you."

A note.

"Teenager or woman?" Julia asks.

"Definitely a teenager."

"I'll take it." Julia steps forward.

I warn her, "It might not be safe. What if--"

"What if it says something important." Julia grabs the note and sits back down. I sit beside her as she opens up the paper.

It reads. She is here. In the main room. Asking people for the hostess. Be ready. Be safe. Plan A.

Julia crumples the paper and stands up. "I guess this is it."

"Where are you going?" I stand. leaning against the counter. After a second of hesitation, I swipe a knife from the counter and slip it into the waistband of my shorts. It's not a gun, but in hand to hand, it might help.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm waiting. I'm ready." Julia says.