Chapter 4: The Kitchen After Everyone Left
The house went quiet in a way that didn't feel quiet at all. I could still hear the dining room in my head, the clink of the glasses and Selene's voice and Mr. Balanki's chair scraping when he stood up. Mom had her hand on my shoulder and was walking me fast, not rough, just fast, down the blue-lit hallway past the fireplace and through the swing door into the kitchen.
The kitchen was warm from the ovens and smelled like lemon soap and roasted chicken. The catering trays were already covered in foil on the counter and there was a tall stack of white plates by the sink, the ones with the gold rim from the table. Mom didn't turn on the big light. She left the little light on over the stove and shut the swing door behind us.
She let go of my shoulder and I saw her hands were shaking a little. She pressed them flat on the counter like she was trying to hold them still.
"You stayed in that chair too long," she whispered. She wasn't mad. Her voice was thin, tired. "Lily, baby, you can't ask that."
"I just wanted to sit with him," I said. My dress felt itchy around the back where the bow was. "He said I could."
Mom looked at the swing door, then back at me. She crouched down so we were eye level. Up close I could see the little line of sweat at her hairline and the white collar of her dress had a spot on it.
"Listen to me," she said, very quiet. "This isn't our house. We live here because Mr. Balanki lets us. That means he can decide tomorrow he doesn't need us anymore. That's how it works here. No contract. No warning. If they say leave, we pack the car and we go. You understand me? Where would we go?"
I nodded but I didn't really. I knew our room was off the kitchen, with the two twin beds and the little bathroom with the humming fan. I knew Mom kept our suitcases on the top shelf of the closet, always packed except for what we needed that week. I just hadn't thought of it as something someone could take away in one night.
She stood up and started rinsing plates. She didn't wait for me to answer.
I climbed up on one of the stools by the island and my white socks slipped a little on the rung. "She said that table was for family," I said after a minute. "Not the help. That's what she said to me. Like I was being bad."
Mom's hand paused under the water.
"Then Mr. Balanki pulled the chair out," I went on. My voice got smaller. "He touched the back of it and said it was mine tonight. And I sat down. And everybody looked at me. I felt happy and then I felt like I was going to throw up at the same time."
Mom turned the water off. She dried her hands on a towel and came and stood in front of me. She tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.
"You weren't being bad," she said. "You were being a kid. But when a lady like that says something, you smile and you step back. You don't wait for a man to save you from it, even a kind one. Because then she remembers your face."
I swallowed. "I didn't mean to make her mad."
"I know." She glanced again at the door that led back to the main house. No one was coming. The house was still holding that fake quiet. "Did you see anything else tonight? Before dinner?"
I thought she meant the dining room. I shook my head.
Mom lowered her voice even more. She leaned in like she didn't want the plates to hear.
"I was coming up the back hall with the laundry around five," she said. "The hallway by Mr. Balanki's locked room. Selene came out of it. She shut the door real quick behind her. She had something flat in her hand, cream colored, like a thick card. She slid it into her clutch before she saw me."
My stomach dropped. That was the line. The last line I heard before Mom pulled me out. She had that card when she came out of your locked room. That wasn't my line. It was Mom's. I realized she must have said it or mouthed it in that last second when Selene was holding her little clutch with both hands.
"It was her?" I whispered.
Mom nodded once. Her eyes were wet but she wasn't crying. "I didn't say anything then. I should have kept walking like I didn't see. But I saw."
"Are you going to tell Mr. Balanki?" I asked.
She put both hands on my shoulders and squeezed, not hard.
"No," she said. "And you are not going to tell him either. You promise me right now."
"But he should know," I said. "He said that room is always locked."
"Lily, who do you think they will believe?" she said. It wasn't mean, just flat and true. "Her, who is going to marry him and lives in the guest suite in silk, or us, who fold his towels? If we say she took something and we have no proof, she will say we are lying because we want something. Or that we took it. And then we will get a check on Friday and a conversation about how it's not a good fit anymore. That's how fast it happens."
I started to feel tears come and I hated it because I didn't want to cry in that pretty dress.
"So we just say nothing?" I asked.
"We keep our heads down," she said. "We do our work perfect. We don't go near that hallway. We don't repeat what we saw to Mr. Balanki or anyone. Not until I say so. Promise me."
I looked at her hands on my shoulders, at the white cuffs of her dress. I nodded.
"I promise," I said.
She let out a breath and pulled me into her, and I smelled that lemon soap on her skin and the faint candle smoke in my hair. She held me tight for a second longer than usual.
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"Tomorrow we act like tonight was normal," she whispered into my hair. "You don't go looking for Mr. Balanki to talk about it. You stay with me unless he calls you. You understand? We stay away and we stay quiet and we keep our room."
I nodded against her shoulder. I promised again. But even as I said it, I could still feel the weight of the chair under me, how solid it had been when he said it was mine, and the way Selene's fingers had tightened around that clutch. I had the memory now and I couldn't put it back, even quiet.
