“Geez, Emma, can’t you handleanything?” Delilah, one of the other waitresses, rolled her eyes as she went to fetch the mop—again. During my employment here, we’d gone through at least three of them. I was pretty clumsy off-ice, so I didn’t know why my mom had chosen me to be a waitress. It was like asking for trouble. The other waitresses hated getting me on their shift, because a lot of their time was spent cleaning up my messes.
I’d never fit into this world. I didn’t belong here— though I wasn’t sure I belonged much of anywhere. I couldn’t even handle a minimum wage job. I longed to get out of Detroit, but it wasn’t like things would better anywhere else. I’d probably still be spilling things on businessmen. I spent the rest of my shift hiding from Delilah and pretending to do dishes, while really scrubbing the heck out of the mark on my hand. It didn’t fade a bit.
I had to figure out what this freaking thing meant. But who was I gonna ask? Gandalf?
When I got off my shift that night, I surfed through the mail to see if anything had arrived for me while Mom lit a fire in the living room. I’d ordered new skating gear online and needed it for practice.
But I didn’t see a box. Instead, there was a letter in the mail, addressed to me. A long envelope made of parchment paper had my name on it, written in blank ink and fancy cursive on the front.
There was no return address. On the front of the letter was inscribed,Notification of Your Acceptance.
My fingers itched to open it. Was this some kind of college acceptance letter? I hadn’t applied anywhere. I went to open the letter, but before I could, Mom snatched it out of my hands. She’d silently come up behind me without me noticing.
“Hey! What the hell!” I exclaimed. I chased after my mom as she stalked into the living room. “That’s mine!”
“You don’t need to read it. It’s not important.” Mom threw the letter into the fireplace, and I watched it burn with a sinking feeling. Mom had never done something like that to me before. What was in that letter that she didn’t want me to read? Things were getting weirder and weirder around here. I wanted to argue with her that what she did was wrong, but the look she gave me was so serious, I was put off confronting her. I went up to my room and made sure to slam the door. Loudly.
On the last Monday of August, there was a knock on my door. I was washing dishes. I dried my hands and went to open it quickly, as my mom had a headache and went to lie down. I didn’t want whoever was banging on the door to wake her. She often had migraines, and I did whatever I could to help her with them.
I opened my mouth to tell whoever it was to fuck off and go away, but the words fell flat when I came face to face with what I immediately knew was an extraordinary person. A woman stood outside my door. She wore a light blue pantsuit, had deep blue eyes, and a pixie cut that styled her white hair in a fashionable way. She wore heels, light makeup, and was carrying a designer purse that she clasped with elegant hands. Her shoulders were thrown back in a poised way.
“Are you Emmaline Sosna?” the woman asked, politely, but with a brisk sharpness to her voice.
“Uh… yeah,” I said slowly. “Who’s asking?”
She didn’t introduce herself. The lady strutted into my house like she owned the place. She put her designer purse on the closest armchair and sank onto the couch in a delicate way, sighing in a slightly dramatic fashion.
“Would you mind making me some tea? I’ve had a very long journey, and your local airport is… dismal, to say the least.” She gave a pleasant smile. “Biscuits would also be nice. You refer to them as cookies here. I do love my sweets.”
Who da fuck? Who was this bitch, coming into my house and ordering me around like she was the Queen of England?
But she had a quality to her voice and a light in her stare that made me feel compelled to obey her. It was clear she wasn’t messing around. Sheexpectedme to do what she asked.
I had the thought this lady might have some idea about the wolf that had chased me the other day. I decided the best way to get information out of her was to give her what she wanted.
Still, I wasn’t going to show her I’d be that easy of a pushover. “Can I at least get a name?”
“In time.” The woman gave another polite smile. “Although, I suggest you do get a move-on with that tea. Tea and I are as close as coffee and Americans, if I’m right with the comparison. I hope I’m not being rude.”
She was, but it was rude in a way that I was kind of… used to. I couldn’t really describe it. She had this warm and welcoming atmosphere about her that was comforting, even though I had no idea who the hell she was. I turned into the kitchen and put on a pot of hot water. Out in the living room, I could hear the woman whistling and talking to my mom’s pet cockatoo, like it was a person or something.
Weirdo.
When the tea boiled, I poured it into a fancy china cup. I figured that this lady wouldn’t find a normal mug acceptable. I handed the cup to her on a saucer. “I’m afraid we only have green.”
“It’s perfectly fine, thank you.” The woman took a sip and made a face. “Though what accounts for tea in this country would be equivalent to fish water in mine, I’m afraid.”
Everything that came out of this lady’s mouth was off-putting. It was offensive and funny at the same time. I hated how much I liked her, even as she was insulting me.
“I hope you do forgive me for barging in like this,” she began. “But you see, I simplyhadto come by, as we never received an answer from your letter.”
My letter. I thought back to the letter my mom had destroyed. This lady was here because ofthat?
It was at that moment my mother decided to come downstairs. My mom had red hair, like me, though her eyes were blue and not green. Her skin was pale, but despite being in her early forties, her skin showed little signs of age. Most people mistook me for her sister and not her daughter. Though years had passed, she looked the same as I’d remembered her being when I was a little girl.
Mom paused at the bottom of the stairs, placing a hand on the railing when she saw the stranger. Momhatedcompany, and she hated unexpected visitors even more. She had a weird thing about talking to people outside of the diner— almost in a paranoid sort of way. She’d never had any friends, as far as I knew of. Most of the time growing up, it was just me and her. I expected her to go loony at this crazy lady’s arrival, and throw her out.
“Hello, Evonna,” the woman said cheerfully at my mother’s arrival. “I haven’t seen you in quite some time. How have you been faring?”
