"How much?" I asked, picking up a beautiful painting of a wine bottle from the lady's table.
"You're lucky I'm selling it in the market," she replied. "Lowest price, I can do fifty."
I smiled dreamily, thinking of how wonderful it would look hanging up on the kitchen wall back home even though we had thousands of pieces of artwork crowding our small apartment. Plus, I didn't have the money. "I wish I could, I really do..." I locked eyes with the woman. "But I don't make enough. Neither do my family. Sorry."
She shrugged sympathetically. "Don't worry about it. I figured as much, considering how often you come here."
"So rich people obviously don't visit, I suppose."
"No. No, it's too bad. They might buy some of our stuff if they managed to fit something like this into their tight schedule of doing nothing," she laughed. "But they'll never come."
I set the painting down gently. "Who knows?! Maybe one of these days..."
She waited before replying, staring down at all of her pieces. I couldn't imagine how much time and effort she put into each one of them, considering the beauty and texture of them all. "That day will be the day I die."
My smile faded almost immediately. I didn't like hearing those things, so I wished her a good day and strutted down the street back to the house. "Isla, honey!" My mom clashed into me with a hug. I could smell the usual aroma of espresso from her coffee shop down in the lobby of our apartment building. It always comforted me.
"How much did you make today?" I asked hopefully, taking a quick glance down the stairs at the main counter.
"Ah, around one hundred. Not too much. But it is better than what came out of the profit a week ago, I guess..."
"And where's dad?"
"He went out to the garden. He told me it was time to harvest the veggies, as the fruit trees aren't ready yet, that way we can have pie in a few days and cook some good sides tonight." Her eyes lit up at the idea of having real food in our home. "What about you? How much?"
I frowned, my eyes dropping to the ground and clouding with a daze of sadness. "I only worked three hours so I got three... and then I went to the market but everything was over by five today."
She sighed in disbelief, taking my hands into hers. "Those prices seem to go up every week, am I right?"
I nodded. "Well, I'd better go check to see if any tourists are coming."
She smiled and then walked off to the back door. I figured she was going to check on dad, see if he was having any luck with the vegetables. I certainly wasn't the last time I tried.
If anything were to stop me from working, it would be my best friend Adalina. As soon as she marched into the coffee shop, she called my name and snapped her fingers, motioning for me to go where she was immediately for some 'important' news. (It usually ended up being something like how her crush smiled at her while he passed her in the street, or how the old lady next door ordered a hot chocolate somewhere else.)
"What?" I hissed once I reached her, the line exceeding in length, which made me more busy.
"The South side of town came to see our side today!" she squealed.
For a moment, I didn't believe a word. But after looking directly in her eyes, I could tell she wasn't lying. "Really?" I scanned the other people, wondering if they were wearing fancy clothing. Four or five of them were, making my heart soar in hopes of making more money.
"Good luck with the profit!" She patted my head. "I'm sure you'll do fine this week."
I couldn't take my eyes off of the rich individuals. "Yeah," I said dreamily. Maybe money wouldn't be a worry today. For once.