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Broken Butterfly Page 4
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Page 4
The next morning, Mallory stepped into the shower, inhaling the hot steam. The warm water splashing against her face mixed with the clean smell of soap woke her fully as her unwarranted thoughts drifted back in time.
Mama’s boyfriend stood over the bed, staring at her, his face twisted in anger. “What did you do with it?”
She scooted against the bed frame, yanking the covers to her chin.
“Answer me.”He grabbed her shoulders from beneath the blankets and shook her.
Mama stood in the doorway, her face blank. Mallory wanted to cry out, but she was too terrified to make a sound.
He caught Mallory’s gaze drifting, begging for help, and slapped her. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. Now answer me. What did you do with it?”
Mama lifted a cigarette to her lips. “She’s only eight, Donald.”
“Don’t argue with me, woman. I can’t find it, and I know this little brat took it.”
Mallory covered her face with her hands, her cheek stinging. “I don’t have it.” Tears ran freely down her cheeks, soaking through the sheet. What was he looking for? Waiting for the next blow, she sank deeper into her covers, but none came. He stomped from the room, slamming the door behind him.
Mallory scrubbed harder to wash away the grunge of memories until her skin tingled with pain. She dried her hair and bound it back with a beaded clip Nancy had slipped into the shopping cart yesterday.
Mallory opened the bag of makeup. She settled on the blush and lip gloss. Jake never allowed her to wear makeup, unless she was home with him. She quickly shook the thought, not wanting to ruin the hope she held for the day.
With one last glance in the mirror, her tense muscles loosened. She still had a job and the staff, and even Mr. Chamberlain seemed to like her. If only Ms. Chamberlain would change her mind.
Mallory followed Nancy into the kitchen to start breakfast at seven. Sebastian took her arm when she entered. He was a big man with a gruff voice, but kindness shone in his eyes like sparkling diamonds.
First he showed her the pantry filled with supplies. After leading her back to the counter, he broke an egg against another one and dropped the liquid center into a bowl set on the counter.
“Here, you try.” He placed one egg in each of her hands. “Now hold them together in one hand.”
She shifted the egg from her left hand to her right and both eggs slipped and splattered against the marble floor. She flinched, expecting a blow, as a memory crashed through the moment. Silver cabinets lining the space and the tall steady stance of Sebastian edged her back to reality.
Covering her face, she hoped no one noticed. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s okay, it happens to every chef. Even the ones who don’t admit to it. Marla will clean that up for us so we can move on.” Sebastian winked. “Here, try another one.”
With trembling fingers, she took the eggs and cracked them in the bowls, but a few pieces of cracked shell slipped in with the yolk and egg white. “Oh no, I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry, we have plenty of eggs.” Sebastian lifted the silver container and started to drop the contents into the trash.
Mallory watched in horror. “What are you doing?”
He paused, bowl in hand. “I’m throwing it out.”
“But there’s nothing wrong with the egg. Can’t we pick the shell out? There’re starving people everywhere.”
Sebastian’s lips straightened into a thin line. Mallory tightened her fingers around her apron. She shouldn’t have said anything.
“You’re exactly right.” He placed the bowl on the counter and with a spoon sifted through the eggs, searching for the cracked shell pieces. “We can’t waste a perfectly good egg.”
He stood by her side as she placed the butter into the black iron pan, and Mallory waited as it melted.
“It’s time to flip the bread.” Sebastian’s gruff voice made her jump.
He smiled, easing her nervous tension, and Mallory twisted the spatula and flipped the moistened bread over in one fluid motion.
His smile widened his cheeks. “Nice job.”
Removing the toast, she placed it on a square, white plate, and sprinkled powdered sugar across the top. Taking deep breaths, she savored the moment, unable to believe she was responsible for the beautiful dish.
She moved to the dining room, and a rush of tumbling nerves invaded her stomach when she counted the minutes from the grandfather clock. It wouldn’t be long before the Chamberlains came down for breakfast.
Nancy straightened the centerpiece on the table. “Ms. Chamberlain’s daughter, Victoria, will be here for breakfast this morning. She invited a guest.”
A jolt slammed across Mallory’s chest. Would Victoria dislike her too?
Nancy stepped toward her. “You and Victoria are the same age, by a year or two.”
“Really?” Though Mallory tried giving an interested response, the word fell flat. At least she had suitable clothes to wear today. Maybe Ms. Chamberlain would change her mind once she saw her in uniform.
Mallory scrutinized her reflection in the dining room mirror. Her wrinkle-free top and black pants looked professional. Maybe Ms. Chamberlain wouldn’t recognize her.
They returned to the kitchen, and Nancy patted her back. “You’ll do fine.”
Moments later, the door bell chimed.
Once everyone was seated, Mallory followed Nancy into the dining room.
Mr. Chamberlain cleared his throat. “Mallory, this is my sister Ms. Chamberlain. You weren’t introduced properly yesterday.” She didn’t miss his sarcastic tone. “And this is my niece, Victoria, and her friend, Eric.”
Ms. Chamberlain’s somber look didn’t surprise her. She nudged her daughter with her elbow before dropping her gaze.
“Good morning.” Mallory kept her voice confident and steady, though she felt neither. The girl, Victoria, rolled her eyes and Mallory’s stomach lurched. The beautiful, black dress, the barrette holding back her hair, with only a few loose, golden curls framing her face, didn’t match her bleak expression. It didn’t matter how close they were in age, they would never be friends.
Nancy took her hand. “Thank you, Mallory. You may go back to the kitchen for now.”
When she stepped through the double doors, she grabbed her list pinned to the cork board then went through the back hallway to finish her chores. Though Ms. Chamberlain hadn’t been overly friendly, she hadn’t dismissed her either. Relieved to still have a job, she worked through the list with careful attention to detail.
Mallory finished changing the bed linens upstairs and paused to admire the paintings along the balcony when an unfamiliar voice resonated from below.
“Paul and Rachel are going to dinner later this afternoon. We could tag along if you want.” The young man’s voice carried up the stairs. She moved to the balcony’s edge and peeked over.
“If you really want to, but it would be more fun if it were only the two of us.” Standing close to the tall, dark-haired guy, Victoria flipped her blond waves to one side.
Mallory couldn’t see his face, but his hair was cut short around the sides and back, longer on top. He wore a yellow shirt and khaki pants.
The young man opened the door, and Victoria followed him out. Mallory was glad to see them go.
Eric glanced at Victoria as she studied her reflection in a lighted mirror. The way she and her mother reacted to the new maid this morning took him by surprise. The dark color of the girl’s hair didn’t match her other features. But her eyes, the pools of chestnut, lingered in his mind.
When they reached the restaurant, the hostess led them to a table in the center.
Victoria took his arm. “Can we sit somewhere more private, like the booth in the back?”
“Sure. That’ll be fine.” The hostess smiled and led them further down t
he aisle.
When Victoria had taken her seat, Eric centered his attention on the hostess. “Thank you.”
“What can I bring you to drink?”
Victoria rested her elbows on the table. “I’ll have a fizzy water.”
“I’ll take a Coke.” Eric extended his legs, taking in the beautiful girl sitting across from him. Her blue eye shadow held a hint of glitter. Her sweater brought out the deep ocean blue of her eyes, and he had trouble looking away.
“So I guess you’re finished school since you’re working for my uncle.”
“I just graduated.”
“I’ll be glad when I’m finished.” Her eyes softened. “It takes all my time.”
He finished his last bite and stretched his arms behind his head. “What are you studying?”
She pouted her sultry pink lips. “Psychology. I’m planning to transfer to NYU as soon as I can.”
“But, you just moved here.”
“Does that mean you want me to stay?”
He laughed. “I’d like you to stay long enough for me to see you again.”
She made no response to his joking tone; instead she took on the look of a first grader winning a prize. “The gods are looking out for me. You’ll make living here so much better.”
The gods? What had she meant by that?
Her unwavering manner and the meaning behind her words left him unsettled as they left the restaurant.
She turned to face him as soon as he stopped in her driveway.
“I’ll be looking forward to the next time. Thank you for a wonderful time.”
Maybe he was making too much out of her comment. “It was my pleasure.”
He started to drive away from the mansion, when the dark-haired maid walked across the yard and without warning hyper-awareness coursed through his body.
Five
Mallory had settled into a daily routine and the past two weeks played over in her mind as she gathered the remaining trash from Victoria’s bath. These people were becoming like family to her, a family she’d never had. The connection with her past and new life were blurring into a thin line. If only she could somehow find a way to befriend Mr. Chamberlain’s niece.
Victoria brushed past Mallory. “Do you mind? I would like some privacy.” Her icy voice echoed against the bathroom tile.
Startled, Mallory stood quickly. Some of the litter fell to the floor around her feet.
A haughty laugh slipped through Victoria’s perfect, pink lips. “Pay attention to what you’re doing. It’s only a matter of time before Uncle Robert gets rid of you.” Victoria slammed the door, her whispered words crushing the weeks of high spirits she’d experienced in that one split second.
Mallory grimaced. The strong, sweet aroma of Victoria’s perfume hovered, burning her nose. Thoughts filling her mind were replaced with a pang of familiarity. Why was she surprised? She certainly hadn’t expected Victoria to warm up to her.
Later that afternoon, Mr. Chamberlain approached, his attention fixed on the contents of a folder. “Mallory, may I speak to you for a moment?”
Her pulse quickened, and she tightened her grip on the duster.
“Why don’t we talk in my office?” He allowed her to walk through and left the door open. “Have a seat.”
Had Victoria said something to him?
He crossed his arms, his gaze focused on his desk. “Mallory, if you don’t mind me asking, what was the last grade you completed in high school?”
Her eyes widened. When she didn’t respond, he raised his gaze to hers.
She pushed her hands under her legs. “I didn’t finish high school, Mr. Chamberlain. I couldn’t, I mean I quit in the tenth grade.”
What did that matter? She didn’t need school to clean his mansion. Had Ms. Chamberlain put him up to this?
He rubbed his chin. “I found this notebook in the library. Nancy thought it belonged to you.” Lifting it from the desk, he revealed the worn, brown cover.
It suddenly made sense, and she twisted in her seat. “I used the library a few times after my shift. Nancy told me I could read any of the books after work. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again. I must have left it.”
He had set his folder aside and flipped through the pages of her history. She wanted to snatch it from him.
“Relax. I’m not upset. I’m impressed. I took the liberty of reading a few of your short stories. I hope you don’t mind.”
Heat climbed up her neck. Short stories? It wasn’t short stories, but her story—her journal.
“You enjoy reading then?”
She swallowed hard. “Yes, sir.”
He crossed his arms, his eyes searching hers. His expression caused an ache deep in the recesses of her soul. The kindness Mr. Chamberlain and Nancy had shown her in the past few weeks were leaking their way through. If she didn’t get out of here, Mr. Chamberlain would be the beneficiary for all her pent-up emotions. She started to stand.
“It’s hard to believe you dropped out. Your writing reads like poetry. I was captivated by your words. Would you be interested in finishing school?”
Her laugh bounced off the wall-to-ceiling bookshelves. “I’m too old to go to school.”
He cleared his throat. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-two,” she said confident he would change his mind.
“Do we ever really stop learning?” His soft laugh was amusing and comforting. “What I had in mind didn’t exactly mean you would go to school.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I would hire a tutor.”
“Mr. Chamberlain, you’ve already done so much. I couldn’t possibly…”
He shifted, his leather seat squeaking beneath him. “Don’t think of this as charity. I simply don’t want to see this special gift God has given you wasted.”
A gift from God? Is that what he thought of the way she wrote her story? No one had ever said something like that to her before. Could it be true? Had God given her a gift? A giggle bubbled up in her throat as she fought against a smile.
“Victoria has a friend who has agreed to tutor you, if you’re interested.” Pushing his chair back, he stood. “You could get your GED and even take some courses at the college when finished if you’d like.”
Four words rang through her ears—a friend of Victoria’s. The news robbed her breath.
Now, of course, I have not met this young lady. If you don’t feel comfortable, I will find someone else, but she comes highly recommended.”
Of course he’d respect his niece’s opinion. “Yes, sir.”
He handed her the notebook. “I hope you’ll continue your writing and feel free to use the library whenever you’d like. Tutoring will begin Monday at three.” He headed toward the door.
Mallory followed. “But, I’ll still be working …”
He turned to face her and twisted his gold tie clip. “Yes, with the tutor. Your chores will end everyday at two forty-five until further notice. Everything has been taken care of.”
To finish school had been a long, lost dream—a dream that could become a reality. She soared in the moment of expectancy, until the truth set in and threatened to steal her joy.
The tutor was a friend of Victoria’s.
The sun was setting as Eric double checked the final figures for the playground addition at the children’s center. He had promised to stop by the Chamberlain’s to discuss the numbers on his way home for the evening. Movement near the water fountain caught his eye. One of Mr. Chamberlain’s maids, the young, dark haired girl, walked through the back yard.
She traced the concrete wall surrounding the fountain and strolled toward the flower garden. Bending down, she brushed her finger against the open rose blooms when the sprinkler sprayed and she jumped back. Her soft echo of laughter reached his ears.
Wiping her hands against her black pants, she took slow strides along the cobblestone walkway toward the apartment. He suddenly felt guilty for watching, but her facial expression held his gaze. Weary hopefulness filled her face. She walked the entire path and stood only yards from him now, but the winding trail suddenly turned. She took the last few steps at a quicker pace before he had a chance to speak.
The scuffling of shoes reached his ears and he turned to find Mr. Chamberlain next to him. “Eric? Why on earth are you parked way over here? Feel free to use the front driveway whenever you visit.”
Startled from his thoughts, Eric scrambled with his folder. He managed to gather his senses and slipped the pages into his open briefcase. In one motion, he exited his truck and closed the door.
Eric jogged to keep up with the older man. “Sir, I have those figures for you.”
“Wonderful.” Mr. Chamberlain kept his eye averted as he led Eric toward the house. “Beauty can be a funny thing. It often appears where you least expect it.”
“Excuse me, sir.”
“Oh, nothing. I was only thinking out loud.”
Mallory checked the clock once more. She would be meeting the tutor in a few more minutes. She changed into one of her new outfits and brushed her teeth. Why would Mr. Chamberlain do this for her? She felt guilty for dreading the appointment. It was a wonderful opportunity—one she never dreamed would happen.
The clock in the apartment read two fifty-five when she closed the door behind her. Legs trembling, she walked to the main house.
She hoped to reach the library before the tutor, but was too late. The girl already sat in the chair closest to where she stood with her back toward Mallory. Setting everything out on the conference table, the tutor hadn’t noticed her arrival. She stared at the back of the girl’s head, imagining the monster she’d find on the other side. Would the tutor scowl like Victoria, or worse? If she treated her unkindly would Mallory be able to tell Mr. Chamberlain? Ms. Chamberlain and Victoria would only blame her.