Chapter 1 - She Asked For My Boss's Chair While His Fiancee Held Her Clutch Tight
The candles had just stopped smoking when Lily stepped out of the blue hallway light. I could see the flames reflected in the wine glasses and the water glasses lined down the dark wood table, white runner straight, white plates set, the wall sconces warm behind the curtains. Mr. Balanki sat at the head in his black double-breasted suit, white pocket square folded sharp, his long dark hair pulled back enough to show the tattoos on his neck, his large gold-tone watch catching light on his left wrist. It was supposed to be a quiet dinner service, him and his fiancee and the guest in the tuxedo, and me against the wall waiting to clear.
Then my five-year-old walked toward the empty chair with the white upholstery and dark wood frame, her light brown curls bouncing, her sleeveless pale pink lace dress moving with her, the little bow at her back untied on one side, her white socks silent on the floor, and Selene in her black long-sleeve satin gown turned her head with that diamond teardrop necklace flashing and smiled the way she only smiled when she wanted someone small to feel small.
My name is Maya, and I was holding a water pitcher when my daughter walked in.
It was night, dinner already underway, the formal dining room warm and the hallway and staircase behind us cold and blue. I remember the exact moment because the guest man in his black tuxedo, white shirt and black bow tie, short dark hair and light stubble, had just set down his fork and looked toward the hallway. Lily stopped by that empty chair, looked up at Mr. Balanki with her hands twisted in her dress, and spoke clear and hopeful.
"Mr. Balanki, can I sit with you?"
I froze with my hands clasped tight in front of my apron, my brown hair pulled back, my black short-sleeve dress with the white collar suddenly too tight. That was the close-up moment for me, not the table, not the candles. Her voice. Her eyes lifting. His eyes moving to her, slow, breathing steady. The guest man turning with concern. Selene setting her small light metallic clutch purse on the table edge and letting the sternness settle over her face.
She laughed once, short. "This table's for family, sweetheart, not the help."
That was the lie dressed as manners. Lily's face fell. I saw it happen inch by inch, hope going out of her mouth and eyes, her shoulders sinking inside that lace. The guest man shifted and did not speak. I wanted to move and could not.
Mr. Balanki stood. His chair scraped soft on the floor. He came around the head of the table, past the candles, and took hold of that dark wood chair with the white upholstery. Selene watched him, her dark brown hair pulled back, her earrings catching, her mouth tight. He pulled the chair out and looked at Lily, not at Selene, and his voice was low and even.
"Sit down, Lily, that chair is yours tonight."
For a second nobody breathed. I felt my hands shaking against my ruffled white apron. Selene's fingers curled around her clutch. The guest man glanced from Mr. Balanki to Selene and then down at his plate. Lily climbed up carefully, her socks slipping a little on the seat, her dress spreading over the white cushion. Mr. Balanki pushed the chair in for her. I stepped forward with the pitcher and then stopped, because serving felt wrong and leaving felt wrong.
We tried to eat around it. Mr. Balanki leaned toward Lily and spoke reassuringly, his beard close to her eye level, his tattooed hand resting near her plate. I covered my mouth with my hand when I saw her eyes go wide and anxious, darting from Selene's crossed arms to the staircase light behind us. Selene had stood by then, black heels planted, black gown smooth, arms crossed hard over her chest. The guest man kept watching, quiet.
Then Lily slid down from the chair. She went to Mr. Balanki's side and tugged his suit sleeve right beside that big gold watch on his left wrist. Her small hand pulled once, insistent. He turned and bent to listen, seriously, fully, his breathing slowed. She pointed past the curtains and sconces toward the staircase with the cooler blue light.
May you like
"She had that card when she came out of your locked room."
Selene uncrossed her arms and clutched that small light metallic purse tight to her side with both hands. The table went frozen. The candles burned. No one answered yet.
