by Shawn Keys
Cadence felt much stabler as she pulled to within a couple blocks of her uncle’s restaurant. She parked there, walking the rest of the way. It wasn’t deep in the tourist section, but the surrounding markets choked the streets and made driving through the area miserable. She used the brisk walk up to the restaurant to get into the right mindset. It wasn’t as hard this time.
With her father’s brewery, there had been dormant memories that crept perilously close to being fond ones. Once I get past the ‘being forced to brew beer’ part, those learning sessions are some of the few times I recall seeing him honestly happy.
But her uncle’s restaurant was a different story. She hated working there. She hated being paid next to nothing. She hated the hard-nosed attitudes of both her uncles who ran the place, treating her service there like they were doing her some kind of favor instead the reality: that they were keeping her caged in a prison masquerading as a family business.
Seeing the place carved up and sold off to someone else didn’t bother her in the slightest. As the sign came into view, her heart skipped a beat. It made her realize she hadn’t been there since Daniel pulled her out after that fight where he set her free. Approaching it now took her right back to so many evenings, walking fast to get to the restaurant on-time, balancing her distaste for being there with a far greater distaste for having Uncle Marcel smack her around for ‘disrespecting’ him by being late. Le Goût Croquant. Marcel’s life work. In the family for three generations. It could burn to the ground for all she cared.
She stepped through the door and scanned the place. Same old furniture. Same effort put into making it look like a semi-respectable place while not quite rising above a diner. Her gaze finally settled on the wooden podium where the hostess normally stood. The place didn't need it, but Marcel said it added a touch of class. Unsurprisingly, he was a traditional, old fart. He had kept the males of the clan in the back, cooking. The females of the family were the waitresses, trading off the hostess role.
Many of her male cousins had been tossed into prison along with her Dad, Marcel and the last of their brothers, Seon. From the emails she had received from her still-free cousins, Cadence knew that her uncles hastily hired a chef by the name of Craig to run the place while the trial was ongoing. Craig had brought in a little of his own talent to aid him in the kitchen, a fact that was no-doubt giving Marcel daily heart-attacks since he had always insisted this had to remain a family business. Given his patriarchal tendencies, it was ironic that the only family remaining in the restaurant were the females.
At the hostess podium, her tallest cousin was stooped over, leaning on her elbows as she read a paperback novel. She was Seon’s second daughter and third-born child, about a year younger than Cadence. Not looking up, Anya Amirault said, “Closed for the evening. Sorry.”
Cadence considered what that absentminded brushing-off told her. The restaurant being closed wasn’t a surprise. That was why she was there, after all. The final sale was tonight. She was there to witness on her father’s behalf. In this case, she wouldn’t walk away with a percentage. That was fine with her. Good riddance to this damned place. But the place was going to be open tomorrow under different management. Rudeness to customers would get noticed. “Giving the new boss a reason to toss you out? Unlike your Dad, I’m pretty sure he’ll let you quit. No need to piss him off until he fires you.”
That caught Anya’s attention. Her eyes flickered up from her book. She had eyes that couldn’t be ignored. Technically grey, the exact shade was as close to silver as one could biologically get. Cadence swore that in low light they would glow. What’s more, they were alive, actively searching Cadence’s face. She often wondered if that was a habit from her own less-than-pristine childhood. Reading when she was in danger. Knowing before it happened if a family member was about to hurt her. Her father hadn’t been any kinder than Cadence’s. Anya also had two brothers who bought into the family tradition of male dictatorship. Awareness of her surroundings was a survival skill for Anya.
Cadence smothered an inappropriate smile. She knew that her cousin had suffered a lot worse until she got old enough to deliver fierce kicks into her brothers’ more sensitive bits whenever they started being serious assholes. Even the urge to smile faded when she thought about how Uncle Seon would punish her following those encounters. Punish her for daring to defend herself. Her jaw clenched. Rot in prison, Uncle. You deserve it.
Nothing in Anya’s attitude suggested amusement at Cadence’s dark joke. “Not in the mood tonight, Cuz.”
Peering deeper into the restaurant, Cadence caught sight of Craig, Marcel’s eldest daughter Bellamy, Seon’s eldest daughter Enora and the lawyer handling the paperwork for the sale. There was another pair of suited men that Cadence didn’t recognize; they had to be the buyer and his lawyer. The gang was all there, probably waiting on her to add the last name to the list and finally bid farewell to Felix’s share in the place.
Screw ‘em. They can wait a few minutes. “I know this paperwork is sort of a turning point, Anya. But there’s a clause saying all the cousins keep their jobs if they want them. With decent salaries.”
“It isn’t about that,” Anya scowled, pushing off from the podium and crossing her arms in annoyance.
Cadence didn’t read the annoyance as being with her. At least not directly. She folded her own arms, taking the time to scan over her cousin’s frowning features. Besides her piercing eyes, Anya’s height was the quality that stood out most. Cadence was tall. There weren’t many women who could meet her eye to eye. But Anya was a good two inches taller than her. Physically, she looked down on nearly everyone. But emotionally, she wasn’t one to pass judgment. Even now, pissed off as she was, Cadence wasn’t getting that sort of vibe. “Then what is it?”
“Got some news.”
“Want to share?”
Anya huffed, batting the air with one hand. “Haven’t told the others.”
“You’re keeping a secret?” Cadence’s lips curled into a small smirk.
Anya’s blank expression crumbled a little. “Don’t…” Her shoulders slumped a little. “I mean, it’s complicated. You know that as much as I do. You got out and one half of my brain is thrilled to see you get out of this mess.”
“And the other half?”
Finally, Anya met her eyes. She gave a soft shrug. “Prison is better when the gang’s all on the inside.”
Nodding slowly, Cadence guessed, “So your news is about your own way out?”
“Mostly regarding how it just fell apart,” Anya confirmed.
“Can’t hurt to tell me about it.”
“I’m not letting it get around.”
Cadence laughed gently. “I’m not here to gossip. My other cousins can hate me for keeping secrets if they want. Meanwhile, you get it off your chest. What’s up?”
Anya frowned, clearly wanting to get it off her chest and yet worried at the same time. Working up to it, she offered, “Three bits of mail.”
“All on the same day?”
“Practically in the same envelope.” Anya sighed. “I got my GED today.”
Cadence’s eyebrows rose in happy surprise. “That’s great!” Her cousin was in her early twenties, but it wasn’t uncommon for teenagers to start working upon turning 14 and stopped being legally required to attend school. For some, working simply slowed their progress. For others, it stopped altogether. Hearing that Anya had kept scratching away until it was done was inspiring.
“And accepted to the Collège de Nouvelle Marseille,” Anya added.
Excitement welled up inside Cadence.
Before she could explode, Anya held up a hand to cut her off, “I can’t afford it, Cuz.”
That derailed Cadence. Her face fell.
“Besides, it’s totally contingent on being given a volleyball scholarship.”
Cadence brightened momentarily. “You’re still playing?”
“Of course, not!” Anya mocked the very idea. “Last time I played w
as when I was actually in high school. I’ve done classes by mail or online since then.” Anya pointed over at one of the booth-style tables. “Sitting there when the customer traffic was low.” She huffed, shaking her head. “Not a lot of space to play volleyball.” She gave another sigh. “I got an affidavit from my old high school coach and the principal of the school. Both of them remembered me and wrote letters that said if I had graduated on time with the grades I had, I would have been on their list for possible scholarships.”
“But?”
This time, Anya took time to work past her sadness before saying, “But… I didn’t. Scholarships don’t work the same when you finish late.”
From deeper in the restaurant, Bellamy had caught sight of her. “Cadence! Back here!”
“Hold on!” Cadence called back, then refocused on Anya again. “Nothing?”
“Worse. Partial scholarship. That hurts worse. Somewhere around half of what I’d need.”
“With your new paycheck from here? Still not enough?”
“I can’t, Cadence. I got my GED working here, but this is a whole different thing.”
“What did you apply for?”
Anya raised the novel she was reading up to be seen. It was 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne. “Literature. Focus on early Science Fiction.”
“That’s some hard-core nerd stuff,” Cadence grinned.
Anya grinned back. “Don’t make me laugh right now. I don’t want to laugh.” She waved the book. “I did the math. To make enough money to cover the difference, I’d have to work around twelve hours a day. When you add that to the six hours of class time, we’re already down around six hours of sleep. That’s without study time or even the small things like… eating. Doesn’t leave a lot of time for breathing, much less playing volleyball.” She shook her head. “Can’t be done.”
Bellamy said again, “Come on, Cadence. Catch up with Anya later.”
“Are the lawyers billing you by the hour?” Cadence snapped back, irritated for being drawn away from Anya’s problem.
“Yes!”
Cadence scowled, then shifted back to Anya. “Sorry.”
Anya shrugged. “Nothing’s going to change in the next few minutes. Go do your thing. We can commiserate after. Can you stick around for a bite to eat?”
“Umm, I hadn’t planned on it,” Cadence stopped short of saying more, since eating in Le Goût Croquant again verged on being the last thing she wanted to be doing, especially when her original plans involved a couch, TV and orgasms.
“That busy in your new life? Commercial to shoot?”
Cadence beamed. “You’ve seen one of them?”
“They don’t show up in Portesara a lot. I went looking on the internet. Very nice.”
“I feel like an idiot while I’m doing them. I have no idea what’s going on. They tell me that it’s gone great. The commercial ends up looking OK. But… under the cameras, I’m just spinning in circles. No movie career for me.”
Anya chuckled. “Maybe you’ll get used to it.”
“Somehow, I doubt it.” Cadence sighed. An idea occurred to her. “I might stick around if I thought it could make a difference. I can listen to you mope on the phone.”
“I know I said I didn’t want any pity, Cuz. But maybe a little would be fine.”
Cadence leaned against the podium in what she meant to be interpreted as a challenge. “Let me ask you something. You applied for a scholarship, right?”
“Yes. We covered that.”
“Willing to take that money? No attacks of conscience about the free cash?”
“Hey, they’re offering. Don’t see why I should feel guilty about that.”
Cadence grinned. “I am so glad you put it like that.” She gestured at the back of the restaurant. “Thought the place was closed. The kitchen is still open?”
“Charles is back there to cook. Craig wanted to give everyone the chance to order something if they wanted.”
“Whole menu?”
Anya shrugged. “Might piss Charles off if you don’t go with one of the three selections he prepared. But I’m sure I could ask nicely.”
“Does one of those three include the mango and avocado salad?”
“No. But it’s even better now. Craig added a citrus spritz over it.”
“Hmm, might have to piss him off then.”
“Cuz!” she almost shouted, snapping Cadence back into their more important conversation. “Why did you ask about the scholarship money?”
Cadence smiled. “I’m thinking that I’ve found a nice way to spread a little good will. Might not have enough money to start a scholarship fund or anything, but nothing says I can’t make sure my cousin gets to college.”
Anya’s mouth gaped open. “You’re going to pay for the other half?”
“If that’s what makes sense. Could be the whole thing. Does this scholarship come with any strings?”
“What?”
“Promises. Conditions. Reasons why they might strip it away.”
“Have to maintain a 3.0 GPA and maintain a position either on the varsity or back-up volleyball team, depending on how my tryout goes,” Anya said.
Cadence nodded. “Do you want to?”
“What? Play?”
“Yes. Are you there for the books or the sports?” Cadence pressed softly.
“I… ahhh… I mean, I…”
“Give it to me straight, Anya.”
“Both.” Anya’s eyes didn’t waver, declaring her honesty. “I want both, alright?”
“Then what you can’t be doing is working here.” Cadence gestured toward the table. “Craig still owns the place. Get back there before he sells it. Give him your notice before this new guy starts asking for two-weeks’ notice. Quit tonight. Start writing your acceptance letter.”
Anya’s mouth worked open and closed, trying to get anything out.
Cadence jumped in before she could. “Please, Anya. Don’t refuse. Don’t say you can’t because of how much money it is or… oh, I don’t know. Any other reason! I got the hell out of this place. I’m chasing my dream right now. I’m earning a little extra cash, but I’m getting my own share of help as well.” She reached out and clutched her cousin’s forearm. “You don’t have to go it alone. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, no-one does.”
“But Cuz… Cadence… this is a lot! More than a lot!”
“I’m going to Cuba in a week, Anya. The Caribbean Games.”
“I remember your text. Congratulations.”
“I’m not flying there on my own money!” Cadence sighed with some amazement at the whole affair. “The Portesaran government is paying the way so I can put a score on the board they’ll be proud of. That’s all well and great. Win-win, right? If I do well, they’ll dump even more money into my training. French Language games. Pan Am games after that. World championships. Then God willing, the Olympics. Thousands of dollars thrown right down the drain if I don’t keep my act together. Pressure? Sure. But that can keep me focused.” She shrugged, then smiled. “Not disappointing me seems a whole lot easier.”
“Oh yeah?” Anya asked, still sounding shocked. “What are your strings?”
Cadence smiled. “Do it right. I don’t even know what that means, I guess. But I figure you’ll find the right way through it all. If you can still look me in the eyes every time we get together, then that’s good enough for me. Let me do this for you. Please?”
Anya struggled, debating in her mind if she could really accept.
From the back table, Bellamy called, “What are you two doing up there?”
Enora demanded, “Some of us have plans!”
“By the hour!” Bellamy reminded them.
With a flare, Anya turned and said, “Enough! Both of you!” She focused on Cadence, hope filling her. “I’m going to say ‘yes’ before you come to your senses.”
“Awesome!” Cadence stepped around the podium. “Come on. Quitting is a beautiful thing.”
“And if they’re pissed off that I’m leaving them?”
“That’s easy,” Cadence said, her grin remaining. “We don’t give them the chance to kick us out. We’ll go to Fête du Ciel. They have a killer avocado and fruit salad. Best way to celebrate your newfound freedom is to let someone else wait on you for a change.”
Chapter 7
Led by Daniel, his team accompanied by Evelyn and Azélie filtered through the small crowd at the airport. They were substantially early for their flight. Daniel had done this on purpose; he had flown often enough to know it would take a while to check in all their athletic gear. Fortunately, that hadn’t taken as much time as he had feared. Unfortunately, that left them with excess time to burn. Better than racing about like crazy people.
He pointed at the sign ahead. “There’s our gate.” The Portesaran airport wasn’t the equivalent of most international facilities. There were only eight embarkation gates on the international concourse and only four of those were showing pending departures.
They weren’t the only athletes that would be on the flight. The hundred chosen members of the national team had been scheduled to make their way to Havana over the span of three days. They happened to be traveling with the last group of around twenty. Daniel didn’t recognize most of them. The few he did were nothing more than faces he had seen during random encounters. Most weren’t from the track and field community, except for Coach Saunier and his two contenders: one for shotput and one for the discus.
Aiming for the waiting area across from their gate, they dropped their bags, settled in and got comfortable for their long wait.
Evelyn perched in a chair at the end of the row, folding her nylon-clad legs one over the other. Daniel cloaked his smile and tried not to be too obvious in his admiration of her. Short business skirt, black stockings and high heels to match. It wasn’t any different than most outfits she wore. That didn’t make seeing her sexy legs one last time before they left any less sweet as a parting gift. Evelyn met his eyes, then stifled her own wry smile as she uncrossed her legs and folded them the opposite way, enjoying that he was appreciating every second of it.
