The Espinosa family come home and enter to the dining room, sitting where the food is placed. The well-dressed man comes up to me and smiles.
"Welcome to our home," says the man, "I'm Hector Espinoza, the head of the house and we are glad to use the extra help from The Veiled community." He shakes my hand and motions to me.
"Thank you, my name is Sam Santiago." I smile my best smile and stop as soon as he walks away. His wife then walks up to me and greets me.
"I'm Elena Espinoza and I'm his wife and mother of my three kids. I trust you met them last night?" She looks worn but still courteous in her stance. I nod my head and smile. "Yes, they are wonderful and sweet both Haley and Iris." Elena smiles and then whispers, "If you are in any need of anything for the house, don't be afraid to call me." She hands me a card with her name and number and title of her workplace. Elena Espinoza, Superior Officer of the Law, (747) 325-0111 was written on the card.
She winks and walks to her place at the table. Iris and Haley wave at us in the corner and I smile in return. My eyes then spot Anthony lurking in the entrance of the dining room staring at Natalie as I see her hairs on her arm stand straight up as if she could sense his intense glare. I look back at him and he collects his composure before entering to greet his parents. They all start to eat and laugh and create chatter while Natalie and I wait till they are done.
Anthony laughs at whatever his dad said and glances at me for a second. I return the contact before I turn to look down at my worn shoes. I look up and continue to notice the eye contact from Anthony the whole night. Does his family know of the abuse? How long has this been going on? Why hasn't Natalie left for another job? Is there motive of these callous actions? Is there more to it than what meets the eye of this perfect family?
Whatever the reason, I hope it's not leverage or worse. The family finish up dinner in the dining room, which leave Natalie and I to clean up and get the children washed and ready for bed.
. . .
I'm on the bus finally after a long day at the Espinoza house, waiting to get home to take a shower and sleep for the night. My hair is dry and itchy from the chlorine water in the pool and my skin is dryer than usual. My mind fights the sleep, so I don't miss my stop.
Finally at home, I showered and treated my hair and used lotion to soothe my dry skin. I feel refreshed and suddenly the drowsiness kicks in once I lay on the pullout bed in the living room and I knock out as soon as my head hits the pillow.
I'm at work folding laundry. Suddenly I'm walking up the stairs to the parent's room towards the closet to put away the folded laundry. I feel hands all over me, caressing my curves in all the right places. The hands start to go up my ribcage to the front of my breasts. My breathing is shallow but surprisingly I am also aroused from this intense touching. The person surrounds my whole backside and I feel his breath on the nape of my neck. This feels so good even though I'm at work and am bunched for time. I try to resist but can't help to moan from such a delicate touch from his lips. He chuckles as my body shivers underneath him and I fall to the ground.
I wake up from a cramp in my left calf that causes me to jump out of bed to get rid of the searing pain. My mother is in the kitchen cooking us a three-egg omelet that we divide between the each other before we go off to work.
"Walk it off Sammy," says my mom without turning around. I start to walk around to work out the charley-horse without falling to my knees. It feels like something squeezing the hell out of my calf as I walk a couple steps. I breathe deeply as I shift my weight to my right leg and the pain subsides for now. I sit down to rest after waking up so painfully.
"Morning, mama." I take a sip of water and eat my portion of breakfast with a slice of toast. My dad walks in dressed in his janitorial clothes, ready for his 12-hour shift. "Morning, dad," I say as I down the last of my breakfast with some orange juice.
They look at me as I get up from the table and put away my plate and fork in the sink and I turn to ask them what's wrong.
"How's work been treating you," asks my mother. My dad looks back to his plate to concentrate on eating.
"It's work. Between the warehouse and being a maid, I hardly tell the difference between the two." Except I witnessed a rape scene yesterday and tried to pretend it was normal for the sake of my coworker. I leave the room to go change for work and pack my black apparel for tonight. I slip on my shoes and check the time for when the bus arrives and run to the front door. My mother is cleaning up the kitchen and my father already left for work. "Bye, mama."
After I leave the apartment building that I call home, I run for the next block to make my bus that comes in 10 minutes.