Chapter 4
Danielle
“Oh, no,” I thought, as I heard the sickly splatter of Veronica’s mess, all over that poor guy’s shoes. And let me remind you that this was an upper-class restaurant, so even the waiter’s shoes were more expensive than any pair I had ever owned.
He stared at the mess, gaping in horror, then looked up at me, his eyes wide with astonishment. I knew, in seconds, I would see anger there.
Which meant I only had seconds to react.
Immediately, I snapped into action.
“I am so sorry, sir!” I exclaimed, leaping from my seat and taking his tray from him. “We will clean this up right away!”
“Y…you?” He said, still baffled.
“Yes, sir,” I stated back, so matter-of-fact and businesslike that it brooked no argument. “It is our mess, and we will clean it up. A mop, please. And leave those shoes here. I’ll clean them off, too.”
I’m not sure if he was just a placid fellow, or if my self-assuredness got to him, but he nodded, kicked off his shoes, and then marched off. In the meantime, I pulled Veronica upright, thrust a glass of water in her hand, and ordered her to sit still.
Moments later, the water returned with a mop, towels, and a bucket of soapy water. I plucked a towel from his hand, bent, and began scrubbing at his shoes. Within ten seconds, they were cleaner than when he’d started his shift.
Trust me. When you’ve raised four little brothers practically yourself, you learn not to be afraid of a little sick. And you get awfully good at cleaning it.
Fortunately, because Veronica had had little food, it was mostly just booze anyway. It probably wasn’t too different from somebody spilling a drink. In no time, I had it squeaky clean, and then turned my attention to Veronica.
She was sleeping.
“Veronica,” I said.
She shifted, letting out a wheezing snore.
“Veronica!”
She jumped, and then opened her eyes, smacking her mouth like a cow. A small but mean part of me thought, Let’s see if all those guys are interested in her now.
“What?” She demanded.
“You just made a big mess. I need you to apologize, both to the waiter and to the manager of this restaurant.”
“Why?” She grunted, threatening to fall face first onto the table as she jutted her chin at me.
“Because it’s the right thing to do. Now, eat some of this bread, and get up.”
“Aw, do I have to?”
“Yes.”
She glared at me. “I hate it when you get like this,” she muttered. “Fucking mom.”
But she took the bread and began nibbling at it. With every bite, she made a face like I was making her eat cow droppings, but at least she was eating it. And already, I could see her sobering up.
I decided it was time to find the manager. It didn’t take long. I guessed it was the tall, stately dressed woman in the high-heels, scowling at our waiter.
“Ma’am,” I said. “I’m so sorry about all this mess, and I assure you that I will do everything I can to make it right. Which starts with this.”
I went over, grabbed Veronica’s hand, and marched her back to where the manager waited. I glanced at her nametag and saw, “Rita” before turning to Veronica.
“Now, Veronica,” I said. “Don’t you have something to say to Ms. Rita here?”
She glared at me. “Mm’sorra.”
“What?” I insisted.
She glared harder, and then switched her gaze to Rita. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said, with clarity. Then she turned back towards me, “I’m getting us a cab,” she said icily.
“Wonderful,” said I, smiling benignly at her as she stomped away.
Rita hadn’t responded. She was busy watching Veronica leave with amusement, annoyance, and something like wonder.
“It’s not often I get an apology from a girl like that,” she muttered, then looked at me. “She a friend of yours, then?”
“Yes,” I answered truthfully. “Though I haven’t seen her much since college. I just moved to New York today, and she was showing me sights.”
“She definitely showed quite a sight tonight, then, huh?” Said Rita, chuckling. I smiled. The women didn’t seem too mad. I wondered if this sort of thing happened all the time.
“Yes,” I said. “And I’m sorry again. We mopped up, and I dried the place too, just in case. Is there anything else I can do?”
Rita gazed at me strangely, a thoughtful frown on her face. After what seemed ages, she asked. “You’re new to New York, then? Where did you come from?”
“Valley Springs, Vermont,” I said proudly. “My brothers and I grew up there.”
“Huh. How many brothers?”
“Four. All younger,” I answered.
Much later, it would occur to me just how weird this conversation was, between two New York strangers. At the time, however, it seemed perfectly natural. I was from the country, after all.
“Huh,” Rita said again. “So that means you’re used to this sort of thing?”
She nodded in the direction of our table.
“Too used to it, actually,” I laughed. “When I wasn’t watching my brothers, I was helping out my neighbor at her daycare center. You name a bodily fluid, and I’ve cleaned it.”
Weird, Danielle, weird! The little alarm bells in my head cried as spoke. I could just imagine Veronica rolling her eyes and looking at me in disgust. But Rita didn’t seem disgusted. Instead, her look of thoughtful ponderance increased.
“So,” she said, “do you have a job yet?”
“A job!” I gasped. “No, I don’t!” Was she about to offer me a job? There was no way. My friend had just puked all over her staff! But she was looking at me appraisingly, and I dared to hope.
Imagine…working at a place like this…
“Would you be interested in working as a nanny?”
It took several long seconds for her question to penetrate my brain.
“A nanny? Oh, yes, I suppose. I’ve got plenty of experience.”
It took a lot of effort to say that. I was too busy watching my daydreams of working at the hotel itself bursting into little puffs of smoke.
“Great,” Rita said. She reached into her breast pocket and pulled out a small notebook, in which she began to scribble. “I need you to be at this address, at 8 o’clock sharp tomorrow morning. Think you can manage that?”
I glanced at it. I was familiar enough of New York geography to know that it was not far from the hotel.
“Of course!” I exclaimed. Though that means about four hours sleep. I couldn’t complain though. I needed a job, and I was frankly lucky the woman hadn’t kicked me and Veronica right out.
“Wonderful,” said Rita. “I’ll see you then. And don’t be late!”
“Yes, ma’am!” I promised. She nodded, then walked away.
Feeling dazed, I paid our bill then and meandered out to the entrance, where I saw Veronica waiting with her arms crossed and scowling.
“About time,” she exclaimed. Her voice had lost the harsh bluntness of intoxicating, to be replaced with something needling and venomous. I smiled at her, unperturbed.
“Come on, Vee,” I said. “Let’s get your drunk ass home.”
And thought I had never done it before in my entire life, I hailed a taxi cab, ushered Veronica in, and together we went back to the apartment.