Chapter Playlist: Waves by
Dean Lewis
●●●
I wipe the beads of sweat off of my forehead as I lift a chair from it's heightened position from a table. Bo's Bistro is about to open and I arrived pretty early.
It's cold outside but I'm sweating buckets. I'm running a fever but I really don't want to miss work, despite it being my day off.
Mom was moved into a hospice earlier this morning when things got pretty bad. I decided I need to work extra shifts to earn more money so her passing will be as peaceful as possible.
I know that what I earn can barely cover the funeral costs of a goldfish - much less the type of funeral I want for my mother, but I have to do something to bide my time. I'd go crazy if I sat at home doing nothing.
I genuinely dread the thought of asking Lauren and her family for more money, but the possibility of doing so is becoming more and more my reality by the day.
I don't know much of my family - and the ones I do know either work for the mafia with my psychopath father or they live miles away in Trinidad with no intentions of ever speaking to my mother because she went off and married a drug lord (my psychopath father).
After all I've been through, my future better be great - else I'm just be a cursed individual.
Work drags on and every so often I think about my mother. She seems very accepting of everything that is happening to her but I can't help but wonder if she's scared.
"Of course she's scared," I think out loud.
You only die once. It's not like you can die, come back, be told you're dying again and think 'oh this has happened before and it's not all that bad - I've got this.'
Nope. She's unaware of what is to come and fear of the unknown can be pretty terrifying - even for the strongest people.
"I'll have some popcorn shrimp with a side of fries and bottled water, please." A friendly man who looks like he's in his mid fifties smiles politely at me.
I have to do a double take. It's Pablo from yesterday. I wonder if he has a single clue that I was spying on him and Mr Romano just the day before.
"Coming right up." I politely smile back.
His order is ready in ten minutes flat (which is probably a personal record for the busy restaurant) and I bring it to his table.
"Anything else?" I ask.
He is mid head shake when something seems to have clicked in his mind.
Oh boy, what if he was somehow aware of my presence outside the conference room the entire time yesterday at Romano & Co? What if he wants to ask me about that?
"Actually, do you mind if I ask you a couple of semi-personal questions? It's for a social experiment and you might get a business proposal out it," he says, eyeing me carefully, the polite smile still intact.
I'm a little puzzled but I oblige. "Sure, I guess."
"Okay; first things first. What is your name?"
"I'm Sadie. Sadie Torres."
"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Torres; you can call me Pablo. Now, it's important to be honest when you answer these," he starts. "Two days in a cabin by the lake with your significant other or two days in a five star hotel?"
I consider this for a second or two.
"Can I choose both?" I inquire.
He ponders over the question. "I suppose you can so long as you don't keep picking both for every option."
"Alright. In that case I'd like spending time by the lake and retiring to a five-star hotel two days later wouldn't hurt," I respond.
He nods, processing the information. "Alright. Would you prefer a fairytale wedding that costs fortunes - but with no guarantee that the marriage will last - over a very simple wedding, but you will be guaranteed that the marriage will work out?"
I can see where this is going. Does he really think I won't notice the pattern of his questions? The conversation is already starting to give me a headache.
Money is a topic I really don't like to discuss; what more dissecting the topic with a stranger I happen to spy on the day before. Talk about uncomfortable.
Either way, I've suffered most of my life because of money and I'm not interested in being asked about it.
"These questions seem to dance around one question, so I'll answer it: no, I am not a materialistic person - I'm not sure if it's because I've never been the wealthiest person out there or because the lifestyle simply doesn't appeal to me, but I hope that answers the rest of your questions."
Pablo eyes me for a good thirty seconds - I was counting. His eyebrows slowly rise in what I can only interpret as surprise.
"It's quite refreshing to find a young lady of your age-group not telling me about her fantasies of rolling in money. Don't get me wrong; money makes the world go round but my business proposal is more fit for someone like yourself," he says.
"What is this business proposal about?" I ask, curious.
He hands me a card. "Meet me at Romano & Co tomorrow at 10 am sharp. That's my business card incase something comes up or you need directions."
Oh trust me, I don't need directions.
"Tomorrow is a Wednesday and I work at a nine-to-five pace, six days a week - every weekday," I inform him.
"By tomorrow you won't need this job anymore. We're talking two million dollars. You fit the job description perfectly and you're hired - with your permission, of course. I can't talk about what will be required of you right now because walls have ears, but rest assured we will be discussing it tomorrow."
My eyes widen.
Two million dollars?
I wonder what the job entails.
As much as I want two million dollars, this job might be something I can't do and I can't put my current job at stake just yet.
"What if the job description doesn't fit me? I have to know what it entails before I risk losing the one I have."
I mean what kind of a job - that pays two million dollars - would a guy from Romano & Co possibly want to offer an untrained, inexperienced individual like myself?
Pablo sighs in resignation, nodding. "You're right Miss Torres. I'll speak to the manager on your behalf."
Pablo tells me who to ask for at the front desk upon arrival at the building tomorrow.
I wonder why he tells me to ask for Mr Romano at the front desk instead of him as I wipe the dirty table tops later that day.
It's a quarter to five PM and I'm about to head home since we've closed a little early.
Pablo managed to get me permission to ditch work for a little bit tomorrow. Apparently he is a very respected man who can easily persuade anyone to do his bidding, just by introducing himself (according to my fellow employees of course, who for some reason know him).
Not that Jake wouldn't have understood my reasons to ditch work for most of the morning - he knows I wouldn't just skip a shift for no reason.
My mood dampens when I catch sight of Olivia in the back, giggling away at something on a call she's having. Earlier on, she had accused me of flirting with older men for extra cash when I returned from Pablo's table.
I had simply flipped her off and continued on with my day. It wasn't very classy of me but I'm not a very classy person either.
●●●
I step into the dark cold house that my aunt and I now share. I can already feel my mom's absence as I step into the gloomy place.
I hear laughter coming from upstairs in my aunt's room - and what sounds like a male voice.
Why is she back from work so early?
I vaguely remember her mentioning that she was seeing someone but that was months ago. I never met him - or heard of him after that.
"So when are you telling her?" I hear the male voice ask.
I move closer to the staircase so I can hear them more clearly - not that I have to anyway; their conversation is loud enough for me to hear everything even if I wasn't listening in.
This is my second time listening in on a conversation in the span of two days; and I know that nosiness isn't a becoming trait but I can't help but assume their discussion has something to do with my mother.
I hear aunt Lizzy sigh. "I'll have to tell her tonight."
The male voice speaks up. "Finally. She needs to be out of here by the end of the week."
My ears perk up.
"No, that's a little harsh, David. She is my niece after all."
My heart starts pounding erratically.
"You've done all you could for them, Liz. It's time to live your life. Your sister is practically gone now and your niece is an adult. They're not your responsibility anymore," the man says.
I feel like I just chewed glass and swallowed it. I mean, I know I have to leave my aunt's house at some point but for some random man to determine when, and for him to speak about my mom's condition in that manner is utterly disrespectful.
I make my way to the refrigerator, take some OJ out and slam the 'fridge door loudly enough to make them aware of my presence.
Aunt Lizzy might as well tell me now instead of tiptoeing around the matter. I don't want to feel awkward in her house the entire time until she tells me.
Silence.
I pour the juice into a glass and sip on it patiently waiting for my aunt to come and face me like the adult she's supposed to be.
I finally hear the creeking of the wooden stairs and my aunt descends with a younger looking man by her side.
He has a buzzcut and is a little scruffy in worn out boots and a uniform splattered with paint. I guess he's a painter or he does something associated with construction.
My aunt looks like she's just seen a ghost and the man looks at me almost as if he wans to flush me down the toilet.
I sip on my OJ, keeping myself from saying something completely out of line.
"Sadie. You got off work early today?" My aunt asks.
I clear my throat. "Uh yeah, I did. Is there something you'd like to tell me?"
Her eyes widen a little, possibly surprised at the prospect of mousy little Sadie cutting straight to the chase.
The truth is, my aunt barely knows who I am.
"Why don't we sit down first?" She asks wearily.
I oblige. The man stiffly follows us. He hasn't said a word yet but he manages to annoy me more and more by the second.
I take a seat on one of the worn out couches, opposite them.
Aunt Lizzy sighs. "Look, Sadie. Your mom has given up the fight. I've done what I could for you guys and I just think that... that maybe it's time for you see for yourself from here on.
"You could maybe rent out a small apartment - I'll pay the first few months to get you on your feet," she finishes.
Wow. For someone like my aunt, that was very kindly put.
I smile reassuringly at her. "I completely understand. I appreciate everything you've done for my mom and I. I honestly can't thank you enough."
She smiles sadly. "Oh Sadie...I knew you'd understand, you've always been such a sweet girl."
I nod, a small smile still on my lips. "I mean, I am nineteen now. Given the circumstances, it's about time I got on my own two feet. Is there a specific time I should be out of here?"
I've always been a straightforward person, I can almost never beat around the bush.
"Oh no don't worry about deadlines, dear. It's not like I'm tossing you out of here; I just thought you should start thinking about a place of your own." She smiles kindly.
The man - who I forgot was even there - clears his throat.
"Didn't we agree on two weeks, Liz?" He pipes up, his tone brittle with annoyance.
I furrow my eyesbrows. "Who even are you?" I ask rather unceremoniously.
He turns so red he starts to resemble a pimple with a body. He opens his mouth to say something but my aunt cuts him off.
"Nonsense. Don't listen to him; take all the time you need," she assures me, putting a hand on the man's leg to silence him.
I notice a shiny engagement ring on her finger and I suddenly realise what all of this is about. She's getting married, he's probably going to move in soon - or vice versa - and they don't want a nineteen year old to be in the way of everything.
I smile at my aunt. "I'll try to be quick about it; there are some apartments I was already looking at," I say honestly.
That seems to visibly put her at ease. "Alright, dear. Just make sure to tell me when you find one so I can cover the costs."
"Thank you," I say, grabbing my jacket that was next to me. "I think I'll have an early night, I'm super tired. Goodnight."
I speak looking directly at my aunt, completely ignoring the frowning douchebag next to her.
"Goodnight, darling," she says as I make my way to the stairs.
As soon as I enter my room, I put my favourite playlist on and I hit the shower to clear my thoughts.
I lather my hair with my favorite strawberry shampoo as my thoughts wander back to the 2 million dollar proposal I was offered earlier on, hoping it isn't a fraudulent business scheme.
I'm going to need this now more than ever. I just hope the job is something I can manage to do.