1

Background color
Font
Font size
Line height


I stick my hand under the water, feeling its chill all the way up to my elbow. It hasn't warmed up at all; it's still just as cold as it was when I first turned the tap on. There's no way I can shower in this. I'm going to have to boil gallons of water if I want to give the girls a bath tonight. At least, if the stove decides to work today.

I shut the shower off. There's no point. I'll just have to wear my hair up and shower at Karla's when I get the chance.

"Alright, girls. Have you finished your breakfast yet?" I head back into the living room. Both girls are still sitting at the dining table, but Hayley's bowl is already empty. Penelope still has plenty of cereal left, but she never finishes her food on her own.

"I finished mine," Hayley grins cheekily. "I can have an extra cookie for snack now, right?"

"Maybe. We'll have to wait and see," I smile. "Do you want to help your sister finish her food while I pack your lunches?"

She nods her head and hops off her seat to stand beside Penny's high chair. She's done this plenty of time before. I used to let her pack her own lunch while I helped her sister out, but it's too dangerous in the kitchen. I've had to ban the girls from going in there. Half the tiles are either missing or cracked, the cupboards are falling off their hinges, and there's a collection of exposed wires right beside the door where a PowerPoint used to be. Hayley can easily reach it now, and I've zapped myself enough times now to know the kids are better off far, far away.

I pack two sets of identical lunches, with the same food they always get — Lunchables for recess, and a banana, peanut butter sandwich and teddy cookies for lunch. There's a 3 year age difference between the girls, but as long as I cut the crusts off Penny's food, they can finally eat the same meals. The transitioning stage between baby food and solids is an absolute nightmare when you also have another toddler to care for. It's too much hassle. Nobody warns you for the small things like that. But then again, nobody warns you you're going to end up as a 26-year-old single mother with no career or stable income.

At least for some being a mother would be an achievement. They'd have built a whole family.

But that's not what it's like for me. I'm not their mother. I didn't pop these kids out. It's not something I achieved or even desired for. It was thrust onto me. All I achieved was somehow managing to keep these sweethearts in my care without interference from CPS, while their actual parents run amok in Virginia. At least, that's where my sister is. I have no idea where the girls' fathers are. They probably don't even know they're fathers.

"Alright, my sweeties, are we ready to get going?" I return to the dining room, just in time to see Hayley return the spoon to the bowl. They've made a bit of a mess, but that's to be expected. "Good job, Hayley. Go ahead and put your backpack on."

I quickly wipe Penny's face and clear her bowl. It's still early, but at least we'll be on time for once. Penny hurries after her sister as soon as I put her back down on the floor. She trips over her own feet as she does it, but picks herself right back up.

It doesn't take much longer for us to leave the house and start making our way to daycare. It's only a five-minute walk, but it usually takes us twice as long. Hayley always manages to find at least three rocks she wants to bring to class, and Penny can't help but pat every dog she sees. I don't mind it, though. These girls are angels — much easier than they should be. Still hard as fuck, but bearable. Stopping to look at rocks five times isn't that bad once you learn to take it into account. Besides, both of them run off to their classes with no complaints, while a boy to our left won't let go of his father's hand.

As soon as the girls are inside the building, I beeline towards the subway. My train is already standing there, just a few minutes earlier than it should be. Maybe skipping a shower this morning was actually a blessing. You can never be too careful with the subway. The arrival and departure times are purely suggestive. It's a 45 minute trip to where I need to be, too. Who knows what can happen during that time.

And sure enough, we get stopped for a police matter before we've even left the Bronx. It's the same shit every day. Most of the time it's just because there's kids messing around on their carriage, or some kind of drug found beneath a seat. It's never anything serious, but it delays the train nonetheless, and I'm stuck just a few feet away from a puddle of something that looks like puke, and a man watching porn on his phone with the sound on.

I can't wait to shower tonight.

By the time we reach my stop, I'm surprised to still be on time. The New York City streets are littered with people, all making their way to and from their favourite coffee stalls, designer shops, or daily business meetings. And in this side of town, they're all decked out in neat suits, sleek dresses, and other businesswear. At least when I work the morning shift, my black blouse, sneakers and jeans blend in with the morning joggers. Now I just look like a tourist.

Benny's Bistro is located off of 5th Avenue, across the road from St Patrick's Cathedral, and between Armani Exchange and the Cathedrals gift shop. But the restaurant does not belong here. It's not sleek and modern like its neighbours. It's old and rustic, built out of brick rather than glass and cement, and decorated with purely red wood. It's a typical Italian restaurant that just happens to cater to New York City's elite. The Rockefeller Centre, Sainte Systems, and the Ferrari Corporation are right down the road. And with the bistro's dark exterior, we don't attract many tourists. From the street, the entrance is just a door.

When I walk inside, there's only a handful of customers spread across the restaurant. Karla is standing behind the counter, organising the wine bottles on the shelf. I start heading towards her, but before either of us get a chance to speak, our boss interferes.

"Amy!" he calls out. My expression drops. He knows that's not my name. I've worked here for years now. It literally says Amelia on my name tag and my paycheck. He knows damn well what it is.

"Morning, Eric," I try to give him a polite smile, but it's hard when he's scowling at me as if I just killed his cat.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"What do you mean?" I check my watch. "I'm on time, aren't I?"

"You were meant to be here an hour ago!"

"What?" I furrow my brows.

"I texted you last night. We've been short-staffed all morning!"

"I didn't get any texts, Eric."

"Save the excuses," he scoffs. "You should be happy I still give you any shifts at all. You have absolutely no dedication to this job!"

"What do you mean?!" I defend. "I show up on time every day, don't I?"

"I don't want to hear it, Amy. I need you to put your apron on and get started on the lunch prep. And make sure you put some makeup on before the Ferrari's show up, yeah? You want them to come back, don't you?"


You are reading the story above: TeenFic.Net