Chapter 1 - The Doors Start To Open
The marble was cold through my shoes and the music was too loud to think. Mom smiled for the people by the banquet table with her teeth showing, and then her hand was tight on my shoulder where they couldn't see. The gray mop bucket sat by the white column where it wasn't supposed to be, and white cloths were spread out on the floor like someone had tried to catch something fast.
Dad stood by the closed wooden double doors with his wine glass, half in the warm light from the chandelier. He looked like he was waiting for the party to be over. Mom looked perfect in her dark maroon dress and her low bun, and she was already mad.
My name is Lily and I was six that night in the pink dress with the sash.
The double doors with the stained glass started to open a little and cold air came in. I heard plates clink on the banquet table. The maid bent down by the mop bucket to wipe the marble. Her black uniform pulled at her shoulders and her dark bun had come loose. She didn't look up.
Mom stepped forward in her heels. I saw it close. Her fingers pointing down. A white cloth under her shoe. A dark cloth twisted near the bucket. She said it loud enough for the people closest to hear, but like she wanted only the maid to feel it.
"You're just a maid. Stay out of my family. Get down and clean it."
The maid bent lower. She didn't answer. I could hear her breath. I wanted to tell her I was sorry about my spilled drink, but my throat wouldn't work. I looked at Dad because he was supposed to be there and he wasn't.
He moved so fast his wine glass shook. He lunged past the column toward the banquet table and grabbed Mom's raised wrist in the air. Two chairs were already overturned behind them on the marble. The cloths were still on the floor between their shoes.
"What the hell happened here?"
Nobody moved. The chandelier buzzed over us. I could smell the cleaner from the bucket and the sweet punch from the table. Mom tried to pull her wrist back and Dad didn't let go.
"You're not touching her again."
His voice was low and shaking. He wasn't looking at me. He was looking only at Mom, face to face, holding her wrist up where everyone could see it. The maid stayed bent over between them with her head down like if she stayed small it would stop.
I ran before I decided to run. My sash came undone a little and my shoes slipped on the marble. I hit the maid's waist hard and wrapped both arms around her and wouldn't let go. She smelled like soap. I cried into her black uniform and the white collar scratched my cheek.
"Dad, she knows what mom does to me."
May you like
I said it to Dad and my voice broke in the middle. I felt the maid's hand stop in the air over my back, afraid to touch me with Mom watching. Dad's eyes finally left Mom's face and dropped to me.
The room went quiet around the table. Guests blurred behind Mom's shoulders. The double doors were still half open. Mom stared forward with her eyes wide and tears starting, her held wrist trembling in Dad's grip, and no one had explained anything yet.
