“You’re late,” Chantelle hissed as Sydney walked into the brightly lit kitchen. Sydney flinched and opened the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs and butter. With the ease of years of practice, Sydney slid a pan onto the stove, turned on the burner, and pulled out a loaf of fresh bread.
Chantelle twirled around on her stool like a child, as if she hadn't just celebrated her twenty-first birthday. Her long, blonde hair swirled around her as she spun. Sydney cracked the eggs into the pan and dropped bread into the toaster. Chantelle picked up a pale pink envelope from the counter. She held it up to the light to try to see through it and then hid it again under her fashion magazine.
Sydney’s heart caught. It had been months since her younger sister Ava’s last letter, and Sydney anxiously awaited each one. She wanted that letter more than anything. Ava's letters were filled with the mundane, the routine of her life at boarding school, but they meant much more. A letter meant Ava was doing well.
She flipped the eggs with finesse as her stepmom entered the room and sat beside Chantelle at the counter. Not a hair was out of place, and she wore a classic black suit and teal blouse. Gold bracelets on her wrist tinkled against each other.
The beaming smile Belinda had for her daughter morphed into a deep frown as she addressed Sydney. “I do hope this tardiness won’t become a habit. We cannot be late for work. You’re aware of your responsibilities and the consequences for shirking them.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sydney replied. She was very well aware and remembered every threat Belinda had ever made. They ranged from simply withholding Ava’s letters, to cutting the power to her room, to threatening to release Ava to foster care. For years now, Sydney toiled and did anything and everything asked of her in order to keep Ava safely tucked away at school.
She plated the perfectly cooked over easy eggs with crisp buttered toast and served Belinda first. Within minutes, Chantelle’s breakfast was ready as well. Sydney poured orange juice for Chantelle and coffee for Belinda, just as they liked it, and poured an additional coffee for Belinda’s latest husband, Tad. Moments later, he walked into the kitchen, grabbed his mug, and returned to his home office without a word to anyone.
After they finished their meals, Belinda grabbed her purse from the counter and stalked through the house and out to the garage. The door slammed behind her.
When they were alone, Sydney took the opportunity to ask, “May I have my letter, please?”
Chantelle laughed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She flounced from the room with her magazine and the letter in hand.
Sydney wanted to go after her, but any commotion would garner Tad's attention, and that would be worse. On a whim, he could decide to fire her from his restaurants, and that would put Sydney out on the streets and Ava into foster care. Her biggest fear, the thing that kept her going every day, was letting Ava down. She hadn't seen her sister in years, but she was the only real family Sydney had left. Ava was the most important person in her life, and she would do everything in her power to make sure she had stability and a good education.
Sydney gritted her teeth and washed the breakfast dishes. Half of Belinda’s meal was still on her plate. Sydney had tried once to make her a smaller meal, and she lost the privilege of her bus pass for a week for her thoughtlessness.
Living with Belinda, Tad, and Chantelle wasn’t so bad most of the time. Sydney made their breakfasts and was responsible for cleaning, but then she went to work and didn’t have to think about them. She had her own room, which she collapsed into at the end of each exhausting day. Ava would be graduating soon and turning eighteen later in the year. Sydney just had to hang on a little longer, and then they could leave Tad and Belinda behind and figure out their futures together.
With the dishes clean, dried, and put away, Sydney grabbed her own lunch and rushed out the door to catch her bus to one of Tad’s restaurants. He owned three restaurants in the city, as well as a large event space that was gaining in popularity. The space was beautiful and popular for weddings, charity events, and other community gatherings. Sydney spent most days hidden away washing dishes, cleaning floors, and removing grease from kitchen surfaces at one or more of the four businesses.
The restaurant she was assigned to for the day was the trendiest place in the city. It opened a year earlier to great acclaim. It was called, simply, Black. The name was a mystery to everyone, because it had nothing to do with the concept of the restaurant. There wasn’t a single black surface in the establishment. It also wasn’t ironically white. The place was furnished in shades of blue, from the robin’s egg blue floor to the navy wall treatments and midnight tablecloths. The dishes that she would spend all evening washing were a striking canary yellow.
At this time of day, though, she helped out with setting the restaurant up for opening, making sure everything was in order for service. Everything had to be perfect here, and she appreciated the concentration it took to complete her assigned tasks. Once the dishwashing started in earnest, her mind had time to wander, and she desperately wanted to know what Ava had written in her letter.
Ava was nearly ten years younger than Sydney. Their mom had died weeks after Ava was born, and Sydney tried to be the best big sister she could. She adored Ava from the moment she was born. A few years later, their father met Belinda and Chantelle. They were a happy family for a few years until Sydney and Ava tragically lost their father to a heart attack. It didn't take Belinda long to remarry, and they’d been at Tad’s mercy ever since.
Ava was sent to boarding school within a month of Belinda's remarriage, and she had written Sydney a letter nearly every month until recently. Sydney was becoming increasingly anxious about what would happen when Ava graduated. Belinda hadn’t said a word about it, and Sydney wondered if she even remembered how old Ava was. She was only a few years younger than Chantelle, but she had been placed out of sight and out of mind. Ava's name was only ever mentioned to keep Sydney in line.
Sydney hung on every word she received from Ava, reading every letter over and over. There wasn’t much about friends in her letters, but she often shared what she was learning, what she thought of her teachers, and what projects she was working on. Ava was a good student and enjoyed school, which Sydney clung to whenever she was having a difficult day. As long as Ava was happy, she could keep moving forward.
Sydney picked up a rack of martini glasses and turned to take them to the bar when another employee came around a corner too quickly and slammed into her. She tried to right herself, but she watched the rack slip and topple as if in slow motion. Every glass in the rack hit the floor in a loud crash of shattered glass. Her co-worker paled, backed away, and rushed from the room, leaving her to deal with the cleanup.
Tad burst into the kitchen, took one look at the mess, and yelled at her to clean it up before someone got hurt. She jerked into motion and gathered what she needed to clean up the thousands of tiny pieces of glass. Tears sprang to her eyes as she mentally estimated the cost of the broken glasses. Tad would surely schedule her to work extra hours to make up for it. There would be no arguing that it wasn’t her fault.
Tad disappeared back into the front of house to return to greeting guests. Not one other employee in the kitchen even looked over, much less offered to help or commiserate. This wasn’t the first time and wouldn’t be the last. She wished it had happened at the diner instead of Black, though. These custom martini glasses with yellow woven through the stems and dark blue rims were much more expensive than the simple glasses used at the diner.
Sydney swiped at the tears and made quick work of cleaning up the mess. When each shard of glass was swept up and thrown away, she looked up to find the dishwashing area stacked high with the tiny yellow plates that every appetizer was served on, more martini glasses, and dozens of wine glasses. Before she could even start on those, she had to trek down to the basement for a new case of the glasses that had broken.
She hated the basement in this building. The stairs were a hazard, and the only reason the city allowed the restaurant to remain open was money and Tad’s assurance that the basement was never in use. Indeed, the door remained locked at all times, but Sydney had a key. She was the designated person to navigate through the maze of the back room, unlock the nearly hidden door, and brave the rickety stairs into the dimly lit basement.
The large area was used for storage of wine and glassware, as well as old linens, furniture, and decades of dust. Deliveries were made using an exterior door at the building next door, and there was a tunnel between the two buildings. Ingenious really, but as a practical matter, Sydney hated it. At the bottom of the stairs, she took a deep breath and regretted it as she was overcome with a coughing fit. Once she could breathe again, she picked her way across the room and found a case of the right glasses and hefted it back up the stairs.
She took care to lock the door and sorted the new glasses into the dishwasher to deliver to the bartenders as quickly as possible. She worked her way through the rest of the dishes, finishing well after closing. She was one of the last people in the building by the time she stepped out into the freezing darkness and trudged her way back to the bus stop.
When she got home, the house was dark, as usual. She slipped up the stairs without making a sound and got ready for bed. Her body ached with exhaustion, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep, but her mind wouldn’t rest. Her room in the attic was so cold that her breath turned to visible vapor in the air, but she had accumulated a nice nest of blankets, warm socks, and sweats.
She didn’t want Ava to come home and live like this with her. Ava needed somewhere to go when she graduated. Somewhere safe and healthy. Somewhere she could make her own choices and do great things.