Chapter 6: How I Got To The Ballroom
The suite was quiet after Vivian left. The door clicked and I heard her heels go down the hall. Richard didn't move right away. He stayed kneeling next to the chair where I'd sat down, his hands on his knees. The ring and the folded envelope were on the little table between us. I still held the cloth.
He breathed out slow. "Ellie," he said. "How did you get here tonight? Who brought you?"
I looked at my lap. My shawl had slipped and I pulled it tighter. "Nobody brought me."
His eyebrows pulled together. "You came alone? To this building?"
I nodded. I hadn't planned to tell it all at once but the words came out anyway. I told him about the bus. After Mom died, Mrs. Alvarez from next door stayed with me two nights. She helped me pack. She didn't have money to keep me, she had her own kids, but she walked me to the Greyhound station on Main and bought the ticket with the cash Mom had taped inside her dresser drawer. Forty-seven dollars folded with a note that said for Ellie.
"It was the early bus," I said. "I sat by the window. Mrs. Alvarez told the driver to watch me."
He swallowed. "How long was the ride?"
"About four hours. I didn't eat. I kept the invitation photo in my pocket so I wouldn't lose it."
He leaned forward a little. "What invitation photo?"
I reached into the pocket of my dress under the shawl and pulled out my mom's old phone. The screen was cracked in the corner. I showed him the picture. It was a photo Mom had taken months ago, a cream-colored card on our kitchen table. Gold letters. It said Fall Foundation Gala, the ballroom downtown, tonight's date, seven o'clock. She'd kept it on the fridge with a magnet even though it wasn't ours.
"Mom kept this," I said. "She said you would be there. She said if I ever needed you, to go where the chandeliers were. I remembered the name of the hotel from the picture. I asked a man at the bus station which way to walk."
Richard stared at the photo. His hand was very still.
"Ellie, where did you sleep last night?" he asked quietly.
I didn't want to say. My face got hot. "Behind the church. On Locust Street. There was a parking lot and the lights stayed on. I put my duffel under my head."
He closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them they were wet.
"You slept outside," he said. It wasn't a question.
I nodded. "The doors were locked. It was cold but I had my shawl. I didn't want to go back to the station. They said they'd call someone if I stayed."
He looked at the cloth in my hands, then at the envelope on the table. His voice got lower. "Your mom... Caroline... I sent a check. Years ago. After you were born. For support. I thought - I told myself it was taken care of. That she'd cashed it. That she was okay."
I shook my head. "We never got a check. Mom worked at the diner. She counted tips on the table. She wouldn't have taped forty-seven dollars in the drawer if we had a check."
He pressed his fingers to his mouth. I could see his chest move with his breathing.
"She never cashed it," he whispered. More to himself than to me. "She never cashed it. And there's no one at home waiting for you right now, is there? No family?"
I shook my head again. "Just Mrs. Alvarez but she said she couldn't keep me. She told me to be brave."
For a long minute he didn't say anything. The music from the ballroom was faint through the walls. Then he stood up slowly and pulled his phone from his suit pocket.
"I'm not sending you back out there tonight," he said. He looked at me to make sure I heard him. "Do you have a bag? Somewhere here?"
"At the coat check," I said. "A blue duffel. The lady said she would keep it. It has my clothes and Mom's picture."
He nodded and tapped his phone. "Michael, it's Richard. No, don't come in the front. Come to the service hall by the dressing suites. There's a small blue duffel at the coat check for a little girl. Ellie. Have them give it to you and bring it directly to me. Don't hand it to anyone else. Yes, now please."
He hung up and knelt back down so we were eye level again. He didn't touch me without asking. He just put his hand gently near my shoulder.
"That parking lot is no place for you," he said softly. "You're safe here tonight. I mean that. We'll figure out the rest tomorrow. Is that okay with you?"
May you like
I felt my throat tighten. I clutched the cloth a little harder and nodded. The tears that came were quiet. He didn't look away.
Outside the door, the ballroom sounded far away, like a different world. Inside, it was just us, the ring on the table, and his phone on speaker waiting for his driver to answer.
