Sofia
***
The wind was brisk as I made my way through the warm drizzle that had started just as I'd left the residence. I kept a watchful eye as I walked, ever conscious of my surroundings.
The place was still new to me and so different from home. I felt a slight pang when I remembered my home. The fact that I will never see it again made the memory bittersweet.
I clutched the piece of paper close to my chest as I recited the list on silently moving lips. English was still relatively new to me, and some of the syntax was still hard for me to grasp. But my memory was sharp as a tack, sometimes too sharp.
I placed my hand on my tummy that was just now starting to grow as fear rose up inside me. Things may be different here than in my village, but a young unwed mother faced the same challenges no matter where she was in the world. And for one such as myself, with not even family or friend about, it was doubly hard.
At the supermarket that was not too far from the house, I opened the paper and tried to read what was written there. The cook had the poorest handwriting I'd ever seen, and it was only because she had spoken out loud what it was she needed that I was able to find them on the shelves.
I ignored the looks from the men as I passed and the sneers from the women that were so unfounded. I paid and walked out into the drizzle, which had grown heavier.
I hurried back the way I came and was soon safe inside. "What was she doing out in the rain?" I jumped a little at the voice. Draco Russo, the oldest son and the one I tried to avoid most.
I kept my eyes to the ground lest he read my thoughts as the cook rushed to appease him. Everyone knew of his temper and that it was best to steer clear, though he'd never been cross with me. Which most claimed was a minor miracle.
But with me, he seemed quite different than he was with the others. In fact, from the day I was hired, he'd been very distant, except those times when I felt the warmth of his stare. Those I feared worst than his anger.
"We ran out of the sherry I needed for your father's hunter's stew. I didn't know it was raining when she headed out. Why didn't you take the umbrella, girl?" This last was directed at me, but by now, I was trying to escape into the wall. Before I could answer, though, he butted in again.
"Now you're gonna blame her? You sent her out there? Even a blind ass could see it was gonna rain. The shit's only been set up since this fucking morning."
I think maybe I should say something. Somehow his anger did not seem to fit the situation. And I felt guilty for poor cook who was getting an earful because of me.
"It's noth-nothing. I wasn't out in it long." I hate that stutter that only seems to show up when he's around. I wish I had my papa here to tell me what was going on, but he wasn't…
"You're new. I don't expect you to know any better, but Kate, I expect better from you. Next time tell dad to go get his own damn sherry if it's that important."
She laughed and swatted him, and the mood changed just that quickly. I moved to go by him as he stood there in the kitchen watching me. My face heated up, and my skin began to tingle in that way it had started doing whenever he was around.
I escaped to the study where I'd been dusting before I was called away to go to the store. This was one of the easiest jobs in the house, and I was lucky to get it so soon after being hired. The others were a little put out that I had been given such a light load, seeing as I was one of the newest hires and was still getting paid nicely.
But I think Kate had done it because of my size. I am a bit small to be tackling some of the jobs the other servants did. Though I certainly wouldn't have minded as desperate as I was when I turned up here.
The mansion in the small town in Connecticut is massive. The rooms are bigger than the cottage I'd been born in, and the ceilings are so high I get a crick in my neck just looking up at them.
Kate had taken one look at me after my interview and shook her head. "Only one thing you can do around here, and that's dust and run errands here and there."
"But how much will that pay?" I didn't mean to sound so hungry, but I was. I'd barely landed in the states with the clothes on my back and a few dollars. If I didn't find something quick, I would starve.
It was very daunting to realize that intelligence in Sicily wasn't measured the same here. Whereas back home, I was a bright little Bambina; here, I was little more than a pauper.
I was barely eighteen, and my life was already bleak; this job was the third I'd gone after in as many days. No one wanted to hire someone with very little English and who looked like what I am. A beggar.
Things might've been easier in one of the big cities, but papa had warned me to stay away from those before he'd sent me away.
Kate had looked me up and down after my outburst, and instead of the disgust I'd seen so often in the last few days, I saw compassion enter her eyes.
"I'll see you make the same as the others, but don't you go running your mouth. Where are you staying?" I rattled off the name of a street I'd seen on my way here and hoped she didn't press for more because I hadn't a clue.
That was almost two months ago, and now the child in my womb was starting to show himself. I wanted it to be a boy; I needed him to be. He will have lots of work to do.
The bitter taste of vengeance was heavy on my tongue as I took out my anger and frustration on the shelves as I dusted.
Funnily enough, I felt no hate for the child, only love. He was a part of me, after all. And instead of seeing him as a dark reminder of my worse fate yet, I chose to see him as the only good that had come out of that chapter of my life. My gift.